by Ginny Dye
“Looks like these people just up and run,” Pompey whistled.
“They probably found out their house was in the wrong place,” Moses said. “McClellan brought his men right through here a year and a half ago. From what I heard, Rebels cleared out as fast as they could. Left everything and haven’t come back. Most of them are in Richmond, I imagine.”
“We get to tear things up?” one of his soldiers called eagerly.
“Those are our orders,” Moses replied, wishing it wasn’t so. The idea of destroying such a magnificent place didn’t set well with him. On the other hand, he understood that if the South was to be broken, their morale would have to be destroyed as well. With the grand plantations decimated and all the slaves missing, there was no way they could return to their former way of life.
Moses gave directions for ten of his men to demolish the insides of the house, then took the rest, and headed in what he thought was the direction of the slave quarters. “I don’t really expect to find anyone,” he confided quietly to Pompey. “This place is so close to Fort Monroe that any slaves wanting their freedom would have taken off long ago.” A quick inspection of the ramshackle buildings proved him right. No one had been on this land in a long time.
Moses gazed around, envisioning the land lush and green with crops. He would love to have the chance to bring it back to life, to see it planted with tobacco and corn and grain. His eyes swept the land, his longing to be a farmer intensifying. Someday, when the war was over, he would return to the South and claim a piece of it as his own. He would make it bloom again. The destruction would end sometime. Then the rebuilding would begin. He was eager to be a part of it.
Moses motioned for his men to remount and retraced their steps to the house. He could hear the sound of breaking furniture and crashing glass. His men were doing their job with gusto. He called for them, and they appeared on the porch, their faces creased with grins.
“We be havin’ a real good time,” one of them called. “Feels real good to have the power for a change.”
Moses opened his mouth to rebuke the soldier but then stopped. He understood how they felt. All their lives they had lived in awe of the big house. Slaves had looked and longed but then had always returned to their tiny shacks with the certainty they would never have a chance for such a life. Most of his men had escaped from slavery, with the scars to prove it.
“Fire it,” he said abruptly, turning away. He would follow orders, but it didn’t mean he had to like it. Minutes later flames were licking from the stately home. Great clouds of dark smoke rose into the air.
“Let’s go,” he ordered his men. If there were any Confederates in the area, they would be drawn to the smoke like moths to a flame. He didn’t intend to stick around and wait for them. Ignoring the open road, Moses urged his horse into a nearby stand of woods and became intent on working his way north and east. Their mission had begun. From now on, secrecy and quiet would be the keys to their survival.
Two weeks later, Moses’ men had good reason for the quietly jubilant looks on their faces. They had increased their number by almost fifty. Ten plantation houses had been destroyed, and there were wagons, stolen from the plantations and filled with goods and hidden in the woods. They would be driven back to the fort when his men returned from their mission.
Moses knew they would have to head back soon. Their number had grown so large it was becoming harder and harder to stay quiet and invisible. Always present in his mind was the knowledge that any of his men caught would be instantly hung for treason. As the number of black soldiers increased, so did the South’s anger.
“What we doin’ today?” Pompey asked as he strolled over and settled down next to where Moses sat on a log and stared out over the James River.
“We have one more stop to make,” Moses said quietly. He knew he was only a few miles from Cromwell Plantation. He couldn’t squelch the urge to see whether any of his old friends were still there. None of his men knew where he had come from, and he should probably just swing a wide berth around the whole place, but he couldn’t bring himself not to visit.
Pompey looked at him curiously but just nodded easily and heaved himself up. “I’ll get the men ready.”
The sun was hanging low on the western horizon when Moses broke out of the woods behind the slave quarters at Cromwell. He gazed around. The place seemed to be deserted. Then he glanced over at the cabin Carrie had had built for Rose and him and stiffened. He held up his hand for silence as he watched the wispy plume of smoke curl up from the fireplace.
Looking around carefully, Moses swung down from his horse and advanced on foot. If Cromwell was now deserted like all the rest had been, there was no telling who was in the cabin. He was almost to the tiny porch when the door burst open.
“What you doing here?” the man staring at him exclaimed. Then he peered more closely at Moses. “You a Union soldier?”
“Yes,” Moses said simply.
“What you doing here?”
Moses tried to decide how to answer. He didn’t know who this man was, so he couldn’t be one of Marse Cromwell’s old slaves.
“We be recruiting slaves for the Union army,” one of his new recruits called loudly. “You gonna be a man and join us?”
“I reckon I be a man whether I fight for the Union or not,” the man replied quietly.
Moses liked him instantly. He waved his hand for silence and shot a withering look at the man who had spoken before he turned back. “May I ask your name?”
“Who’s asking?” came the even reply, the eyes dark and cautious.
“My name is Moses Samuels. I am a United States soldier,” he said proudly.
“You really recruiting soldiers?” the man asked suspiciously.
“Yes.” Moses prayed this man wasn’t a Southern sympathizer. He had heard stories of blacks turning other blacks in. He knew their rewards were high.
“My name is Zeke,” the man finally replied.
Moses nodded, wondering how to approach his next question. “You the only one on this plantation?” he finally asked.
“Maybe,” Zeke said carefully, his eyes guarded. “What’s it to you?”
Moses realized he was getting nowhere. He didn’t see any danger in letting his men know the truth. “I came from here,” he said simply. “I’m looking for my friends.”
“Do tell!” He heard Pompey exclaim behind him.
Zeke stepped farther out. “You said your name be Moses?” He paused, staring at him. “You Rose’s man?”
Moses smiled. “Yes.”
“I done heard lots about you,” Zeke said, smiling genuinely now, then nodded toward the big house. “Sam and Opal still be up there. Them kids, too. All but Susie,” he said proudly. “She be my wife now. We’re living down here in your old cabin.”
“You gonna be a man and come fight with us?” the same new recruit shouted.
Moses whirled around and glared at him. “That will be enough,” he ordered. “I gave clear instructions everyone was to remain quiet.” He strained to remember the man’s name. Finally it came to him. Saul.
Saul returned his gaze defiantly but fell silent. Moses frowned and swung back to Zeke. He was afraid Saul would cause trouble. Most of the new recruits were compliant. Saul was different. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly.
Zeke shrugged. “That man could be trouble,” he observed. Then he motioned in the direction of the big house. “Sam and Opal be up there.” He turned, re-entered his house, and closed the door behind him.
Moses smiled. He would love to have this man with him. His quiet confidence bespoke a natural leader. Somehow he knew without asking that Zeke had already considered fighting and decided against it. Moses hadn’t forced anyone to join them. He wouldn’t start now. He turned back to his men. “Take a rest,” he ordered. “I’ll be back.”
“Where you goin’? Saul called.
Moses ignored him and swung up onto his horse.
He was starting to ride off
when Saul challenged him again. “Ain’t you gonna let us take care of this house, too?”
Moses spun away and began to trot up the trail. Saul’s next words stopped him.
“I guess our mighty leader ain’t so mighty after all,” Saul sneered. “I know something about this here plantation. I been here before. It be bigger and grander than all the rest we done fired so far. I reckons it’s got a lot of things the Union would like to have. The rest of you boys just gonna sit back and let Moses steal from the Union?”
Moses tensed and swung around. He had sensed a showdown with Saul would come eventually, but he had hoped it wouldn’t be so soon. He was thankful none of the new recruits had been issued firearms. He glanced over at his men. Without exception, they were staring at Saul with seething anger. He knew a single word from him would result in Saul’s containment.
Then he inspected the new recruits. Most of them were glancing back and forth from him to Saul and uncertain as to what they should do. Moses knew they were good men, but they were used to being controlled by whoever had the most power. Until they learned to believe in themselves, they would believe in the strongest one around.
Moses locked eyes with Saul and rode forward slowly, not stopping until he was directly in front of the sneering man. “I don’t take kindly to being called a thief,” he said evenly.
“Then you shouldn’t act like one,” Saul said arrogantly. “Cromwell Plantation ain’t no different than any of the other ones. It ought to burn, too.”
“You would burn a house full of black people?” Moses was thankful Sam and Opal were still living there. “I would much rather be accused of being a thief than a murderer of my own people.” His voice grew sharper. “They’re living the life all of us wish we could live. So should I destroy the house they are living in, forcing them to return to the squalor of the slave quarters?”
“Let them fight for their freedom the way the rest of us are,” Saul protested hotly. “Why should it just get handed to them? Is the man living there a coward?”
Moses smiled coldly. “You’re letting your ignorance show, Saul. The man you are accusing of being a coward is almost seventy years old. The woman had her freedom granted her, then returned to care for children who have been left homeless because their daddy is in prison for spying for the Union.” He paused and looked around. He clearly had the agreement of everyone there. “I won’t touch one piece of that house,” he said firmly. He saw no reason to add that Carrie Cromwell was also one of his closest friends.
Saul glanced around realizing he had lost any support his challenges might have initially brought him. His eyes narrowed with fury. His face took on a caged look.
Moses watched him closely. He had known the humiliation would either cow him into submission or provoke his anger even more. It was obvious his years in slavery had left him bitter and vengeful. If his energy could be channeled, he would be a valuable soldier. If he was incapable of following orders, he would be no good to anyone. His presence in the army would give credence to the whites’ criticisms that blacks wouldn’t make good soldiers.
“I’m ordering everyone to stay here,” Moses repeated firmly, then turned, and urged his horse into a trot. He sensed Saul’s movement before he heard Pompey’s warning shot. Whirling, he had his pistol out before Saul got within five feet. He fired quickly, three shots in rapid succession. Saul jolted to a stop, staring at him wildly.
“I won’t aim for the dirt at your feet next time,” he said coldly. “White people already think you’re a fool,” he continued scornfully. “Don’t give them any more reason to know it’s true. You’ve got a choice. You can either decide to follow orders and be a soldier, or you can turn around right now and go back to where you came from. In case you don’t know it, we have a war to win. I refuse to waste my time on men like you.” His voice rang loudly in the clearing.
Saul cursed and turned toward the woods. Moses watched him go regretfully then turned to Pompey. “Send several men after him,” he said quietly. “I want to make sure he really leaves the area. I won’t have something happening to the house.”
“Yes, sir,” Pompey said quickly, springing into
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Moses turned to ride off, secure in the support of his men. Minutes later he rode up to the porch of the house. “Anyone home?” he called loudly.
The door opened seconds later, and Sam strode out onto the porch. “Glory be!” the old man exclaimed. “Moses, what you doin’ around here?”
Moses jumped off his horse and embraced the old man. “Had to come tell you I’m a daddy,” he said with a grin.
Sam’s eyes filled with tears. “My Rose girl done had herself a baby?” he asked huskily.
“A boy. His name is John.”
“John,” Sam repeated softly. “Her daddy would have liked that.” He nodded soberly. “Yep. He would have liked that.”
“Rose wanted me to tell you if I got this far that she is doing well and misses you.” Moses saw joy spring into the old man’s face. Rose had been like a daughter to him. Sam had vowed to her daddy he would look after her when John was sold away in order to keep Rose’s twin a secret. “She’s not far from here, Sam. She’s teaching in the contraband camps.”
“I knows that girl be a crackerjack of a teacher,” Sam said proudly, staring off in the direction of the ocean. Then he turned back to Moses. “What you really doin’ here, boy?”
Moses explained his mission briefly.
Sam listened intently, both frowning and nodding. “I reckons it gots to be done,” he said slowly, “but I sho do hate to see all them pretty places burned up. That gonna make it right hard for folks to live when this thing be over.” He paused then stared at Moses. “Right hard for all of us.”
Moses knew he was saying more than his words were. “What do you mean?”
“Them houses can hold white or black peoples,” Sam said slowly. “It be more than that, though. Lots of the black peoples runnin’ away gonna want to come back to what they knows. They’s gonna want to farm like they done all they lives. If all the plantation owners ain’t got no homes left theys ain’t gonna be able to farm they land. They ain’t gonna have no money to pay no workers.” He shook his head. “The hard times gonna keep coming, Moses boy. This war gonna end, then all the ex-slaves, theys gonna have to leave them contraband camps. I’ve heard talk of the hard times they been havin’, but I’s don’t think the end of the war gonna necessarily make things better.” He stared out at the fields. “This country done got a lot of hurting to do yet. You mark my words.”
Moses nodded. Sam made sense. He had already thought many of the same things himself. “I’m just following orders,” he said lamely.
“You got to do what you got to do,” Sam said firmly. “And them peoples up north might be right. Might be the only way to make the South quit fighting this war. It be just a shame, that’s all.”
“I wish Rose could see Carrie,” Moses frowned, changing the subject. “She misses her something awful. There aren’t that many miles between here and Fort Monroe, but those two might as well be hundreds of miles apart.”
“Things ain’t gonna stay this way forever,” Sam said comfortingly.
“Whose voice I hear out there?”
Mose stood up when Opal burst out onto the porch. “I had to stop in and say hello to my favorite cook,” he said, grinning.
“Moses! Why, ain’t you a sight for sore eyes. How’d you know I just pulled some apple pies out of the oven?”
“I followed my nose all the way from Fort Monroe,” Moses laughed. He leapt up onto the porch. A sudden shout in the distance made him step to the edge of the porch and peer toward the slave quarters. He waited for several minutes. When he didn’t hear or see anything more, he turned back toward Opal. “I figure I got just enough time to sample them for you before my men start wondering where I am.”
“Like I need you to tell me my pies are the best in Virginia,” Opal scoffed, her eyes twi
nkling. “Get on in there before they get cold.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Moses responded. “I always follow orders.” Laughing and talking, the three moved into the house. Moses stopped just inside the foyer and then gazed in the direction of his men once more. Pushing down the sudden feeling of uneasiness he felt, he turned and went in search of his apple pie.
Moses demolished a huge piece of Opal’s pie before he was willing to talk again. “Best pie I’ve ever eaten,” he announced. Then he paused. “Well, I think it is, anyway.”
Opal bristled instantly. “Who you know can make a better pie than me?”
Moses shook his head slowly. “I’d have to think about that, now,” he mused, staring down at his empty plate. “Maybe if I had another piece, I might be better able to recall.”
“Get on with you, Moses,” Opal snorted. “I should have known you be playing me for a fool.” Her face wreathed in smiles, she dished him up another large piece.
Moses grinned happily then turned to Sam. “You heard anything from Carrie recently?”
“Miss Carrie done been here,” Sam announced. “She ain’t been gone that long.”
“Carrie was here!” Moses asked, amazed. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“You been too busy stuffin’ your face with Opal’s pie,” Sam said casually. “I reckons you be wantin’ to know how she’s doin’.”
Moses listened intently as Sam filled him in.
“Then she went and married that Robert man,” Sam announced proudly. “I figure she’s real happy.”
Moses leaned back in his chair. “Robert’s alive? He made it?”
Sam stared at him curiously. “What you talking about, boy? You ain’t makin’ no sense. How’d you know about Robert being bad off for a while?”
