Storm Clouds Rolling In

by Ginny Dye

  “The government would be wise not to try any such thing,” Robert said sharply.

  Matthew looked at him quickly. “I hate that we find ourselves on different sides of this issue, Robert.”

  The glint left Robert’s eyes and his face saddened. “I still have hopes nothing more will come of this. It’s not too late for the Federal Government to make the concessions the South needs and demands.”

  Matthew shook his head. “There will be no compromising from Lincoln on slavery. He has made himself perfectly clear on it. He will do nothing to touch the institution as it now stands, but he will not even consider slavery in the new states.”

  Robert scowled. “Then he will carry the blood of a war on his head.”

  Thomas, deeply troubled as he watched the two men argue, broke in. “No one man will carry the responsibility for what may come. Please Matthew, tell me more about the convention.”

  Matthew nodded and reached into his pocket. “Just before I left last night, a copy of this was put into my hand, and I thought you would like to hear it. It was drawn up by the convention.” He scanned the pages of paper. “You can read it at your liberty later, sir. Basically, it says that the benefits the Federal Constitution had been drawn up to secure have been defeated by the actions of the free states of the North.” He found the place he was looking for and began to read, “Those States have assumed the right of deciding upon the propriety of our domestic institutions; and have denied the rights of property established in fifteen of the States and recognized by the Constitution; they have denounced as sinful the institution of Slavery; they have permitted the open establishment among them of societies, whose avowed object is to disturb the peace and to eloign the property of the citizens of other States.” He scanned further and then picked back up. “A sectional party avowedly hostile to the South is about to take possession of the government. The guarantees of the Constitution will then no longer exist; the equal rights of the States will be lost. The slave-holding States will no longer have the power of self-government, or self-protection, and the Federal Government will have become their enemy.”

  “The Federal Government will have become their enemy...” Thomas echoed in a disbelieving voice. “I fear there is no turning back from the course that has been set.”

  Matthew nodded soberly, then handed Thomas another document. “There may be changes to this. I received it last night also. It is a letter to the other southern states, pleading with them to secede and join in forming a Confederation of Southern States. In it, South Carolina requests only that they be left alone, to work out their own high destiny.”

  Thomas shook his head. “I still believe there has been no act committed that justifies the actions they are taking.”

  “Governor Pickens was inaugurated just days before the convention,” Matthew replied. “I was there for it. He made it clear that the overt action for which secession was supposed to wait has already been committed - by the Northern people at the ballot box.”

  “I suppose Charleston went wild when the state seceded,” Robert commented.

  Matthew nodded. “The streets were wild for two days. Fireworks, parades, bands… It seemed as if every person in Charleston was out on the streets laughing, talking and cheering secession. You would have been hard pressed to find anyone who was not thrilled.”

  Carrie had just walked into the room. “I’m sure there was someone there with enough sense not to be excited,” she said dryly. “Surely not all of them are too blind to see what will come of this.”

  Matthew smiled. “I happened to run into one of them. A frail, old gentleman by the name of Petigru. He is a devout Union man and didn’t care who knew about it. I overheard him talking to a friend. He said, ‘They have this day set a torch to the temple of constitutional liberty, and please God, we shall have no more peace forever.’ Then he turned and stalked away.”

  Thomas smiled too, but the flicker on his lips was brief. All he could do was shake his head slowly as he stared into the flames of the fire.

  Carrie had her way. As soon as supper was called on that Christmas Eve of 1860, all political discussion ceased. Thomas was relieved to have a reason to push their dark thoughts away and focus on the holiday celebration.

  Excitement was running high in the Quarters. Sarah had led her little army of children into the woods again and now every cabin was decorated with greenery, pinecones, gourds, and colorful leaves. Rose was rearranging a great collection of greenery on the table when Moses walked in. He stopped short when he saw her, his eyes widening with delight. “I thought you were at the Big House with Miss Carrie.”

  Rose shook her head. “She didn’t want us to be apart on Christmas Eve.” Laughter glinted in her eyes. “Are you sorry I’m here?”

  Moses chuckled as he moved forward to take her in his arms. “Let me show you how sorry I am.” He stepped sideways, playfully dumped her on the bed, and then lay down next to her. He looked deeply into her eyes and ran a finger gently down the side of her face. “You’re beautiful,” he said softly.

  Rose melted as she looked in his eyes. “I love you, Moses,” she whispered.

  Finally, she broke away from his embrace. “I have some cooking to do for tomorrow,” she said, laughing as he reached to pull her back. “I promised I would bake some sweet potato pies for the big feast tomorrow.”

  Moses immediately snatched his hand back. “Sweet potatoe pie?”

  Rose pretended to be hurt. “At least now I know what is most important.”

  Moses nodded gravely. “I wouldn’t want you to break your promise.”

  “Or miss any pie,” Rose snorted.

  “That, too,” he agreed, grinning.

  Just then a rap came at the door, and John stuck his head in. “You ‘bout ready for the Possum Hunt, Moses? It be almost dark.”

  Moses nodded. “I’ll be right there.”

  John’s head disappeared and then reappeared. “Sarah is ‘bout to start her story-telling, Rose.”

  Rose nodded. “I’ll be over soon, Daddy. I wouldn’t miss that for the world!” Then she turned to Moses. “Y’all had better bring back some good possums. We’ve got plenty of people to feed tomorrow.”

  Suddenly Charles stuck his head in the door. His eyes were wide and frightened. “We got trouble comin’,” he stated.

  Moses waved him in. “What is it?”

  Charles was clearly nervous, shifting from one foot to the other. “Marse Cromwell had me take somethin’ over to the Ruffin place. I was in the shadows on the porch, waitin’, when their overseer rode by with one o’ his friends. They was talking ‘bout Adams.”

  “Ike Adams?” Moses asked sharply.

  Charles nodded. “They said he knew Marse Cromwell was here. That he be comin’ over to demand his job back. He done found out that Marse Cromwell don’t know he ain’t here no more!”

  Moses frowned. “Do you know when he’s supposed to come?”

  Charles nodded again. “He was going to wait till dark so’s to make sure Marse Cromwell be here.”

  Moses frowned, deep in thought. “Rose, go collect some of the crackers from the children,” he said. Then he turned to Charles. “Get some rope from the barn. We’re going to have a little surprise for Ike Adams.” He smiled as he envisioned it.

  Rose hurried out to do as he asked. When she returned, Charles was just running up with the rope. Moses turned to her and lifted her face gently. “It may be real late when I get back. I’m going to take five of the field hands. I don’t reckon any of us will be back for the dance. Don’t worry about me. If all goes as planned, Adams won’t even know what happened!”

  Rose opened her mouth to ask questions, but shut it firmly. There was too little time. “Be careful,” was all she said.

  Moses nodded, grabbed the things he had requested, and disappeared into the darkness. Rose sank to her knees, praying.

  Carrie and the men gathered in front of the Christmas tree as soon as supper was finished. During
the afternoon, the house servants had helped her place tiny candles all over the tree. They had also allowed the fire to go out, and Moses had carried in the huge Yule log Carrie had selected.

  Thomas smiled when he saw it. “You remembered everything, didn’t you?”

  Carrie wrapped her arm around his waist. “I want to help you build new memories, Father.” Her voice was soft as she gazed into his eyes.

  Quick tears sprang into Thomas’ eyes, but the haunted look was gone. “Thank you, dear.” He took the long wooden match she held out to him, moved forward, struck it on the stone and knelt to light the massive log. The tinder sputtered, caught, and soon an eager flame was eating at the wood.

  The rest of the room stood quietly as the roar of the fire soon permeated the room with its welcome warmth. Only then did Carrie turn toward the Christmas tree. “Will you and Matthew help me, Robert?” She made no attempt to hide the excitement in her voice. The lighting of the Christmas tree was always her favorite time. She held out lit matches to the two men. They were soon bringing life to the multitude of candles adorning the tree.

  Matthew was the first to speak as the four gazed at the beautiful tree sending its glow into the room. “My family never had a Christmas tree. I never even heard of one until I was twelve years old. Now I know what I was missing.”

  Carrie nodded. “It has become my favorite part of Christmas. We owe a lot to Charles Minnegerode.”

  “Who?”

  Carrie laughed. “Have you never heard the story?” She continued on when Matthew shook his head. “He was a German immigrant who introduced the first Christmas tree to a Virginian family in 1842. I’ll never forget the first one I saw. We had gone to spend Christmas with some friends in Williamsburg when I was 6 years old. I thought it was the prettiest thing I had ever seen. We’ve had one ever since. Why, even the Yankees have trees now,” she said teasingly. “President Pierce put one in the White House three years ago and now the tradition is spreading in the North, as well.”

  Matthew smiled. “I understand why you love it so much.”

  Carrie watched the tree quietly for a few more minutes, and then moved over to the piano. Soon, melodious strains of Christmas carols rang through the house as their four voices joined in song. Carrie sang joyously as she played, thrilled to see the deep lines on her father’s face smooth a little.

  Rose finally got off her knees, threw another log on the fire, and quickly finished the sweet potato pies. It would do no good to sit in the cabin and worry all night. She had put it in God’s hands. Her Mama had always told her it didn’t do any good to put things in God’s hands if you were going to stand in front of him and keep snatching them back. She laid the pies on the table, threw on her cloak and hurried to Sarah’s cabin. She hadn’t missed a story-telling session in her whole life - she didn’t want to start now.

  Rose swung the door open quietly and smiled when she saw the horde of children sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the blazing fire. Sarah, dressed in white, rocked gently in her chair to the side of the flames. Many of the women and older children lined the walls, sitting on chairs they had carried in with them It was a good thing all the men were gone on the possum hunt or with Moses because the tiny cabin was already bulging at the seams. Rose slipped in and sank down with the children.

  Sarah was just starting another story. “Who here know ‘bout the Baby Moses?”

  Jubilee clapped her hands in delight. “This be my most favorite story, Miss Sarah!”

  Sarah smiled at the excited little girl and then leaned forward to fix her intense eyes on all the children. Not a sound could be heard as they held their breath in anticipation. “The Baby Moses was a little Jew baby. There was a great king at the time who didn’t like Jew babies.”

  “Like some people don’t like nigger babies?” a little voice piped in.

  Sarah nodded. “I reckon it shore nuff was like that.” She put her finger to her lips for silence and continued. “The great king decided he was going to kill off all the Jew baby boys, but Moses’ Mama didn’t want that to happen to her baby. So’s she fixed a big basket out of reeds down by the river and put her fine baby boy in that basket. When nobody weren’t lookin’ she hid her fine baby in the bulrushes down by the river. Then she watched to see what would happen...” Her words trailed off as the children leaned closer. They all knew the story by heart but that didn’t affect the magic of hearing it again. The fire sputtered and crackled.

  “What happened, Miss Sarah?” Jubilee asked breathlessly.

  Sarah paused for a long moment. “The daughter of that great king done found that Baby Moses! She knew he was a Jew baby but she didn’t want no harm to come to him. So you knows what she done?” She hesitated, but didn’t wait for an answer. “She took the Baby Moses and raised him in the palace, just like he was one of them fine Egyptians!”

  The children’s eyes grew wide as they imagined what that would be like. Why, it would be like living in the Big House with Miss Carrie!

  Sarah smiled. “Baby Moses never forgot who he be, though. He never forgot he was a Jew baby. And God never forgot. He had a mighty big plan for that little boy. When Moses got bigger, God told him what it was.” She leaned closer. “Moses was going to be the one to set all his people free.”

  “Cause all his people were slaves,” a voice said.

  “That’s right!” Sarah agreed. “All his people were slaves. They done been cryin’ out to God for a long time to set them free. They done thought he just hadn’t heard them. Or maybe that he didn’t care none. But all that time, he was getting Moses big enough to do his job. It weren’t no easy job,” she said intensely. “The man who were the master - they called him the Pharaoh - didn’t want to let all them people go. He liked havin’ them as his slaves. They did all his work for him and made him rich.”

  “Like we do!” The women in the room all nodded their heads as a mutter broke from one of the dark corners. All of them were as enthralled by the story as the children. Every year the hearing of it renewed the hope in their hearts.

  Sarah just smiled gently. “Moses didn’t want to do what God told him ‘cause he was right scared of what would happen. And he didn’t think God could use someone like him. God done believed in him a bunch more than he believed in himself. He had to set a whole bush burnin’ before Moses said he would do what God told him to.” She paused. “God done put that Pharaoh through a lot of hard times. It took a right lot to convince him to let those slaves go. The Bible done call them plagues. Why, their water turned to blood one time!” The children gasped and stared at her with wide eyes. Then Sarah smiled. “God won, though! That Pharaoh finally got tired of being so stubborn and he let all them slaves go!” She allowed the room to grow silent and still, then closing her eyes, she began to sing softly.

  Go down Moses

  Way down in Egyptland

  Tell Ol’ Pharaoh

  To let my people go.......

  Verse after verse rolled out in her rich, velvety voice. The children, shyly at first, and then enthusiastically, joined in on the chorus. Their hopeful voices exploded from the tiny cabin and mingled with the stars. Some of the women joined in but most leaned back in their chairs, taking comfort in the knowledge that all God’s love hadn’t been spent on Israel. Surely a deliverer would be coming soon.

  Moses and Jupiter took their position on the side of the road, well hidden by the bushes. The other three field hands were crouched just opposite them on the other side. They were ready. Moses had laid out his carefully thought through plan, the rest had smiled into the darkness, and then they had all taken their positions. If it didn’t work... None of them would allow the consequences to form in their mind. It had to work!

  Moses had no idea how long he had hunkered there in the cold darkness before he finally heard the thud of approaching hoof beats. His heart pounded as he peered down the dark road. Nervously, he fingered the crackers Rose had gathered from the children. They had asked no question
s as to why she was taking the carefully dried pig bladders they had been saving ever since slaughtering time. The look in her eyes had been enough for them to know it was important. Moses leaned as far forward as he could without risking detection.

  “It’s Adams,” Jupiter whispered in his ear.

  Moses nodded as the horse drew near enough for him to recognize Adams’ mare Ginger. He took a deep breath and blew several strong puffs of air into the cracker he was holding. He knew all the other men were doing the same thing. He held the opening closed tightly between his fingers and stared down the road. All he could do was wait. Sweat broke out on his forehead, but his hands and eyes were steady as he gauged the distance carefully. Slowly, he raised the cracker till it was at eye level.

  Adams was sitting on his mare loosely when he drew even with Moses and his band. Moses, as soon as Ginger drew even with him, allowed one massive hand to slam against the blown up cracker. A loud POP! exploded into the still winter night. Four more explosions followed his. Ginger, terrified by the loud, unexpected noises, bolted forward and then reared in protest. Adams, with no warning, and no chance to prepare, tumbled backward.