by Ginny Dye
She took a deep breath, knowing that once again she was letting her fears stop her. Suddenly Sarah’s wise face rose into her mind and she could feel her calm voice reverberating in her heart. “Ain’t nothin’ wrong with fear unless you let it stop you, Carrie girl. God done got big things for you to do, girl. You can sit in one place and ignore that, or you can stare down them fears and go do what you gots to do.”
“You’re right,” Carrie said finally. “I’m coming back to be a doctor,” she said firmly.
“When?” Janie asked, a broad smile breaking out on her face.
Carrie closed her eyes for a moment. “I’ll start in April,” she said, a feeling of freedom and excitement washing over her as she said the words out loud. She tipped her head back and laughed loudly, watching as the wind whipped dead leaves in a dance over her head. “I’m going to start medical school in April,” she said again, more loudly this time.
“I’ll be here waiting,” Janie replied.
It took a moment for Janie’s words to filter through her excitement now that she had made her decision. She turned and stared at her friend’s dancing blue eyes. “What did you say?”
“I said I’ll be here waiting.”
Carrie kept staring at her, trying to decide what she meant.
Janie grinned. “I was content being a nurse for a long time. I watched you all those years at Chimborazo, and I didn’t think I could ever be a doctor because I didn’t have your confidence.” She held up a hand when Carrie tried to interrupt her. “I almost let Clifford destroy me, but I found the strength to escape. Doing that…coming here…seeing the college… It’s made me realize I want the same thing. I want to be a doctor,” she said boldly. “I’m going to stay here in Philadelphia and study every book I can get my hands on. I’m also going to get a job in the hospital as a nurse, if they’ll have me. When you’re ready to come, we’ll start medical college together.” She dipped her head. “While you were in your interview, I talked with someone in admissions,” she confessed. “They assure me my experience will qualify me for medical school.”
When Janie opened her mouth next, she answered the question in Carrie’s mind. “Aunt Abby is an angel. I’m borrowing the money from her for school. She wanted to give it to me, but I just couldn’t accept it. It may take me a while, but I will pay it all back,” she finished firmly.
Carrie sat silently while Janie’s words seeped into her brain. Suddenly she jumped up, grabbed Janie’s hands, and began to whirl her in a circle, laughing loudly. “A doctor! We’re going to be doctors together!” Her mind began to swirl with plans. “We’ll live at Abby’s house. We’ll help each other study. We’ll keep each other company when we’re lonely. We’ll have other students come over for dinners…”
She collapsed onto the bench shivering in spite of her excitement, pulling her coat close as the wind picked up. Metal-gray clouds scuttled across the sky, sinking lower as she watched. The images of medical school swirled as wildly as the clouds, threatening to overwhelm her. It wasn’t until just that moment that she realized how much she had dreaded being in Philadelphia alone. She would still be leaving so much behind, but she would have Janie!
Janie tilted her head up to stare at the clouds. “I think Abby’s house sounds quite wonderful right now.” Her eyes were bright with excitement, but her cheeks were red from the cold.
“It’s going to start snowing soon,” Carrie said, pushing aside the images when she realized Janie was shaking. “Let’s go someplace warm.”
They chattered excitedly all the way back to Abby’s house, planning what life would be like as they both studied to become doctors.
******
Matthew trudged up the stairs to Thomas’s house, heavy-hearted in spite of how glad he was to be home. Darkness had fallen, making the glowing light from the lanterns even more appealing. The air was rich with the smell of burning fires. Even in the dark, he could see the white plumes of smoke curling from the houses surrounding him. He had been gone for almost a month. Each day had brought him to a new level of despair and anger.
Abby was sitting in a chair pulled up close to the fireplace in the parlor when he walked in. “Matthew!” she cried. “I didn’t know you were coming tonight. Why didn’t you telegram us?”
Matthew shrugged. “I just decided to come home yesterday. I didn’t want to waste time on a telegram,” he said wearily.
Abby sprang up to give him a warm hug. “My dear boy,” she murmured. She pulled him over to the other chair and pushed him down into it.
Matthew, in spite of the feelings rampaging in his soul, smiled. “I don’t know if I’ll ever get to old not to want you to call me your dear boy. I always know I’m home when I hear that.”
Abby reached for one of his hands. “You’ll never be too old, because I will always be this much older, and you will always be my dear boy,” she said tenderly. “You’ve had a difficult trip,” she observed as she took in his exhausted eyes.
Matthew sighed. “We’re living in difficult times. I don’t think it’s possible for me to have any other kind of trip. I don’t regret contracting to write this book, but there are times I wish I could just hide away and not be aware of all that is happening in our country.”
Abby smiled. “That would last for a short time, and then you would go mad sitting in ignorance.”
“Either way I lose,” Matthew said flatly.
“Tell me,” Abby invited gently, warm concern filling her eyes.
Matthew glanced at the clock. “Will Thomas and Jeremy be home soon?”
“Yes. I left the factory early. The last pieces of equipment were installed today,” she said proudly. “We’re opening for business in mid-January.”
Matthew forgot his own problems for a moment. “Congratulations!”
“Thank you. Thomas and Jeremy stayed behind to do some work on one of the machines. They should be along shortly.”
“If you don’t mind, I’ll wait for them to come. I only want to have to say all this once.”
Abby frowned. “That bad?”
Matthew nodded heavily. “That bad.”
Heavy footsteps told him he would have to talk about it soon. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to hold it in, pretending it wasn’t really happening, or if he wanted to tell it all with the hope it would lose some of its weight when it was out of his mouth. Not that it mattered. Abby, Thomas, and Jeremy needed to know.
Abby continued to watch him with concern and then pressed a kiss to his forehead, hurrying into the kitchen to let May know there would be one extra for dinner.
Thomas and Jeremy greeted Matthew and headed into the dining room.
“We’re starving!” Jeremy announced, his face flushed with excitement. He turned to Matthew. “Did Abby tell you about the equipment?”
“She did. Congratulations!”
“It’s been so amazing to see the building emerge from all that burned-out rubble,” Jeremy exclaimed. “I can hardly believe we’re just weeks away from opening. I always thought finance was satisfying, and I still feel that way, but being part of bringing a business together — especially with my brother and sister-in-law — is an amazing feeling.” He glanced fondly at Thomas and Abby, his eyes shining.
Matthew could feel Thomas preparing to ask him about his trip. “Have you heard from Carrie and Janie?” he asked. He sincerely wanted to know, but he also just wasn’t ready to talk about everything.
“Carrie is coming in on the train in three days,” Thomas answered. “Janie has decided to stay in Philadelphia,” he explained. “She is going to start at the Female Medical College in April.” He decided to let Carrie share her own news.
Matthew whistled. “Janie is going to become a doctor?”
Thomas nodded. “I know Carrie is eager to tell us the whole story when she gets here. We’re heading out to the plantation for Christmas the next day.”
Matthew stared at him. He had completely forgotten Christmas was so close. He grimaced. Cou
ld Christmas really happen in a country where so much evil was running rampant?
Thomas frowned. “Matthew? Is something wrong?”
“No talk until after dinner,” Abby said firmly. “Matthew has had a rough trip. He’s going to tell us about it, but not until he has a full stomach.”
Silence fell on the table as they ate. The wind kicked up outside the window, brushing the limbs of the magnolia trees against the screens in a weird type of orchestra. Sparks flew from the fire as gusts blew down the chimney.
Matthew felt some of the horror of the last weeks leave his body as the warmth and camaraderie soothed his soul. After so many years of living alone between assignments, it was wonderful to have a home to return to. By the time May placed coffee in front of him, he was ready to talk.
“I suspected things were going to be bad under President Johnson, but I didn’t foresee them being this bad.” He hesitated. “I think Miles and May should hear what I have to say.”
Abby got up and walked to the kitchen. Moments later Miles and May had pulled up chairs at the table, their eyes wide with questions.
“The last month has been a steady supply of one revelation after the other,” Matthew began. “None of them have been good.”
“Where have you been?” Thomas asked.
“I spent time in Georgia, North Carolina, Mississippi, and Florida. I talked to correspondents who have been in the other states to make sure I had a complete picture.” He scowled, trying to force aside his feelings for the moment as he reported what he had discovered. “There are times I truly hate politics, and this is one of them, but understanding the political scene is the only way to understand what is happening. I’ll try to make it as simple as possible.”
Miles shook his head. “Don’t you worry none, Mr. Matthew. Me and May might not speak so good yet, but we been keeping track of what be happening around the country. We read the paper every day,” he informed them.
Matthew stared at him. “You do?” He winced. “I’m sorry if I sound condescending. I know how intelligent you and May are.”
“Don’t you be worrying none. There’s still way too many of my people that gots no idea of what’s going on. I’m hopin’ that will change in time, but I don’t reckon it’s going to change fast enough for them to be ready for what’s gonna happen.”
May nodded. “You’s gonna tell us about the Black Codes, ain’t you?”
Matthew sat back in his chair and stared at her. “Yes.”
“You’s go right ahead. I’ll admit all that political talk done be real confusing. If you can make sense of it for us, I would be mighty appreciative,” May said, “but I know that don’t change what is happening.”
Thomas looked around the table. “I’m embarrassed to admit I may be the most ignorant one here. I’ve been so involved in getting the factory up and running that it has been easy to ignore what is going on in the country. I’ve enjoyed washing my hands of politics, but I have a feeling I’ve made a grave error. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I’m afraid I’m guilty of the same thing,” Jeremy admitted. “The last six weeks have been a total blur.”
“As they have been for me,” Abby added. She took a deep breath. “Tell us everything, Matthew.
“President Johnson’s Reconstruction Plan has been a complete failure,” he began. “Back in May, when he excluded Confederate leaders and disloyal wealthy planters from political affairs, there was hope there could be a true change in Southern politics.”
“Because of the pardons he required for anyone who had property worth more than twenty thousand dollars,” Thomas said.
“Yes. At first, Johnson was very cautious about granting them. By September, they were being issued wholesale — sometimes hundreds a day. Right now there are thousands of men in leadership whose only agenda is to do everything they can to rebuild the New South with the same agenda as the Old South.”
“Not all of us,” Thomas said quietly. “I received my pardon in October.”
“You are a very rare exception,” Matthew said flatly. “No one can completely understand why Johnson has abandoned the idea of depriving the prewar elite of its political and economic control. From everything I have learned, I suspect he has decided cooperation with the planters is indispensable in order to secure white supremacy in the South, as well as his own re-election.”
“Some of the fellows here in Richmond figure President Johnson be a little put off by how much we be willing to fight for our freedom,” Miles commented laconically. “He told some fellow over in England that we need to be kept in order while we ‘receive the care and civilizing influence of dependence on the white man.’”
He smiled at the surprised look on the faces surrounding him. “It’s just best to memorize some of what I be readin’.” He shook his head. “There’s lots of folks here in Richmond who want things to be different.”
“They’re about to get worse,” Matthew said with a scowl. “Miles is right. Our president believes only planters can supervise and control the black population. Since he believes that, he also decided the planters could not be barred from a political role in their states.” He took a deep breath. “This whole last three months has been a series of one state convention after another, followed by democratic elections because each state supposedly passed Johnson’s requirement for restoration into the Union.”
“Did they?” Abby asked. She shook her head. “I can’t believe I even have to ask that question. I should know what is going on!”
Matthew reached over and patted her hand. “It’s a full-time job to know what’s going on in our country right now. Yes, they passed the requirements, but I’d say it was more by adhering to the letter of the law. They surely have turned their noses up at the spirit of the law.” He scowled. “But then so has our president,” he said angrily. “President Johnson has made it very clear he favors a white man’s government. He has confirmed time and again that he is against giving blacks the right to vote. His stance has inspired Southern whites of all political persuasions to rally to his support.”
Abby stared at him. “What does he intend to do about winning the Northern vote?” she asked with disbelief dripping from her voice, her eyes wide and angry. “Surely he realizes he is taking a stance against everything the North fought for. Congress has just gone back into session a week ago. They will not let it stand.” She fervently hoped she was right.
Matthew shrugged. “It seems the new Southern leaders are predicting just such a breach. They are calling for the formation of a new party to rally around their president and sweep away everything that opposes him.”
“They’re mad,” Abby said bluntly.
“I hope so,” Matthew replied. “In the meantime, a whole series of Black Codes have already gone into effect around the South.”
“That’s what we been hearing,” Miles said. “They ain’t in Virginia yet, but I knows they talking about them.”
Thomas shook his head. “Perhaps I was unwise to step so completely out of politics. I don’t even know what you’re talking about. Keep going,” he said heavily.
“The Southern leaders have decided that since black labor can no longer be controlled by plantation owners, it must become the job of each state. They are firmly convinced that the only way to bring any kind of order back to the South is to make sure the freed slaves are still under control.”
Miles nodded. “They’s real upset that we want to control our own money. They’s also mad because we ain’t willin’ for them to have the right to beat us into doing things their way,” he said bitterly. “When Moses was here a couple weeks ago, he told me about Otis being shot ‘cause he weren’t going to let himself be whipped.” His hands trembled. “There be lots of that going on.”
Matthew clenched his fists. “He’s right. President Johnson has guaranteed the white South a virtual free hand in regulating their own internal affairs, especially in regard to the freed slaves. The South interprets stat
e’s rights as the right and power to govern the black population as they please.” He stared into the flames of one of the lanterns for a long moment. “Enter the Black Codes. At their core is the decision to replace the old slave master with the state. The state will now enforce the labor contracts and plantation discipline. The state will punish blacks that don’t comply.”
“All they’ve done is return things as close to slavery as they can!” Abby said angrily.
“I’m afraid that’s true,” Matthew replied. He pulled out a sheet of paper. “The best way to tell you about the Black Codes is to read how they are impacting the blacks where they have been put into force. They started in Mississippi, but they are now in force throughout the entire Deep South. There are slight differences in each state, but they are all very similar.” He began to read.
‘“All Blacks are required to possess, each January, written evidence of employment for the coming year. If they leave their jobs before their contract expires, they will forfeit wages already earned, and also be subject to arrest by any white person. If any person offers work to a laborer already under contract, they risk imprisonment or a fine of five hundred dollars.’”
“Preposterous!” Jeremy snorted.
“There is much more,” Matthew replied.
‘“Blacks are forbidden to rent land in urban areas. Vagrancy — a crime whose definition includes the idle, disorderly, and those who misspend what they earn — can be punished by fines or involuntary plantation labor.’”
Shocked silence fell on the room.
‘“In South Carolina blacks are barred from following any occupation other than farmer or servant unless they pay a high annual tax that very few can afford. The plantation laborers must work from sunup to sundown; and there is a ban on leaving the plantation, or entertaining guests, without the permission of the owner.’”
Matthew paused. “Florida’s code was drawn up by a commission whose report praised slavery as a kindly institution deficient only in its inadequate regulation of black sexual behavior.” He rolled his eyes. “They have made ‘disobedience, impudence and disrespect to their employer a crime. Blacks who break labor contracts can be whipped, placed in stocks, or sold for up to one year’s labor.’”