by Ginny Dye
“Why?”
“It seems Virginia is even more nervous about her slave population now that the war has started. They’re afraid more and more slaves will try to escape and head north to join up with the Union. The Confederacy is already calling for huge numbers of volunteers to join the army. In addition to that, the Virginia government is calling for more men to join the state militia to keep down any slave uprisings and to bring back slaves who are trying to escape. Father asked in his letter whether Adams was talking about joining the militia and leaving the plantation. He said something about the government making overseers exempt from military service.”
“So they can keep all the slaves under control,” Rose stated in a hard voice.
“There are a lot of people who are afraid the slaves are going to rebel more and more now that the war has started. They’re frightened of losing control.”
Rose merely nodded, her contemptuous look speaking her heart. Then she turned back to the subject they had started with. “He’s going to find out sooner or later, Carrie.”
Carrie nodded impatiently. “I know. I know.” She couldn’t believe they had pulled off their deception for this long. Her father was working in Richmond, secure in the supposed knowledge that Cromwell Plantation was being managed under the capable hands of his overseer, Ike Adams. He had no idea that Carrie had thrown him off the plantation seven months earlier for attempting to rape Rose. Since that time Carrie had been running the plantation with only the aid of Rose’s husband, Moses, whom she had appointed as the overseer.
“I still can’t believe someone hasn’t told him. It seems like everyone locally knows about it,” Rose said.
“Father is so caught up in his work he isn’t aware of anything else.” There was no bitterness in Carrie’s voice. She had long ago accepted she was right where she was supposed to be. She hated the deception but believed it was necessary. Yet more and more the necessity of lying to her father was eating at her. Their relationship had always been built on trust. Would he ever forgive her when he discovered the truth - which of course he would someday? How much longer could she live with herself - knowing she was lying to her beloved father? The plantation was still running smoothly. Isn’t that what really counted? She shook her head to push away her disquieting thoughts. Pulling Granite back down to a walk, she reached into her pocket to pull out the letter again. “Let me read you what else he wrote.”
Sunday morning, April 21, dawned warm and balmy. The churches of the city were unusually full. The final prayers were just being said by our minister when the bell on the Square began to toll. In an instant all was confusion. Soon the streets were full of shouting that the Yankee gunboat, Pawnee, was steaming up the James to shell the city! Military companies joined together, the artillery was called out, and women and children streamed to the river to watch the battle for the defense of our city.
I, of course, had to go rapidly to the Capitol to confer with the Governor. Word reached us shortly that it had been nothing but a false alarm. Indeed, it was almost laughable. There was no boat coming up the river. Even if there had been, her heavy draught would not have permitted passage to the city. Richmond citizens, relieved there was no attack, were able to laugh at their gullibility and resume their Sunday routine.
It was not treated so lightly in the Capitol building. We are all relieved that Colonel Robert E. Lee arrives tomorrow to take over the command of Virginia’s troops. The Pawnee Scare, as we are all now calling it, simply demonstrated the chaotic unpreparedness of Richmond’s defenses. It may have been a good joke on the city, but it also revealed a very uncomical state of unreadiness. We have much work to do to be ready to defend our city from the attacks that will surely come from the North.
“When does he think the North will attack?” Rose asked.
Carrie shrugged, folded the letter and stuffed it in her pocket. “I don’t know. He ends the letter there with an apology that he can’t write more because of time.” Something in Rose’s voice had caught her attention. She turned to look at her friend. “Who do you want to win the war, Rose?” She had been so busy thinking of her own answer to that question that she hadn’t bothered to think how Rose would answer it.
Rose met her eyes squarely. “The South is fighting to preserve its right to slavery, Carrie. I know there are many other issues at stake, but wouldn’t you agree that is a major one?”
Carrie nodded, knowing where Rose was headed.
Rose smiled slightly. “Surely you don’t think I would support a war that would leave my people even one second longer in bondage and misery. I have no idea what the outcome of all this will be, but I can only pray for freedom for my people. Freedom to learn without having to hide in the woods in a secret school. Freedom to live their lives the way they desire. Freedom to marry and never worry they will be sold away from each other. Freedom to know their children will not disappear one day - sold to the highest bidder.” Rose paused. “I’m not sure what will happen to the slavery system if the North wins. Maybe nothing. But I am sure what will happen if the South wins.”
Carrie nodded. “I understand.” She knew most of her friends and family were ardently opposed to the beliefs she now held, but she was comfortable with what she believed. There would be times when her position would cause her heartache but she knew she had to be true to herself.
The look Rose directed her way was a mixture of appreciation and compassion. Carrie knew what she was thinking. Robert... They had not talked about him since Carrie had returned from Richmond a month ago. Rose didn’t know about... Carrie shook her head firmly and reined her thoughts back in. Now was not the time.
“Tell me how your school is going.” Rose would know what game she was playing.
Rose played the game well, launching easily into a newer, safer subject. “The school is going wonderfully! Every child on this plantation can now read a little and write their name. There are some who struggle to do that. Others are going almost faster than I can keep up with.” Rose paused, her eyes glowing with excitement. “Oh, Carrie, there is nothing more exciting than seeing a child struggle to read and suddenly get it. It’s just like a light goes off in their head. I can see it because it lights up their eyes! Suddenly all those shapes make sense and a whole new world is open to them!”
Carrie smiled as she watched her friend’s face. “Someday you’ll have your own school, Rose. You’ll be free. Then you can be the teacher you’ve always dreamed of being.”
Rose frowned. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted.” Then she paused. “I’m in no hurry, though. The only way I can have my dream is for Mama to die. I can’t even stand to think that way.”
Carrie nodded, unable to imagine Cromwell Plantation without Rose’s mama, Sarah. Sarah had been a part of her life since she’d been born. She had been more like a mama to her than her own mother had been. Rose adored her mama, and had vowed to never escape the plantation as long as she was alive.
“I’m content for right now,” Rose continued. “Moses and I have that wonderful new cabin you gave us. The plantation children are growing and learning, and I still get to teach the adults. So many of them, especially Opal, are learning so fast.”
When Rose fell silent, Carrie knew she was thinking about the group of eight slaves she had helped escape through the Underground Railroad 10 months earlier. Opal could have been part of that group, but she had chosen to stay on the plantation, too afraid to leave the security she had always known. It was many months later before Carrie discovered the whole story. “She would make a different decision now, wouldn’t she?” Carrie asked quietly.
Rose shrugged. “I think so. She knows she can leave, though. I just don’t think she has anything to go to. And all the slaves are happy now. They have plenty of free time. They are working hard because they want to. You’ve given them plenty of land to plant their gardens and their livestock is thriving. The ones who are left simply don’t want to leave.” She paused. “Freedom is more important to some of
us than others. Some people can think of nothing but freedom. Others concentrate on security and safety because that’s what is most important to them. I think all the slaves with a yearning for freedom are gone. The ones who are still here are here because they want to be.”
Carrie nodded and then started in the saddle. A far off call had caught her attention. Straining her eyes, she looked off to the west. It took a moment for her eyes to focus. “It’s Moses,” she said suddenly. “I wonder if something is wrong.”
It took only a couple of minutes for Moses to canter up to where they waited for him on the road. The towering black man rode his large gelding easily. He had learned to ride when Rose did, but it had come naturally to him. Now he looked as if he had spent all of his life in the saddle.
Carrie admired his grace for a moment and then spoke quickly. “Is something wrong, Moses?”
“Not a thing,” he grinned. “I just saw my beautiful wife and my favorite plantation owner’s daughter, and thought you might like to take a look at the fields. It’s been a while since you’ve ridden the fields, Carrie.”
“I trust what you’re doing.”
Moses nodded easily. “I know that. But you’ve been doing all your work inside lately. You haven’t been doing what you love. I’d like to show you what we’ve been doing.”
Carrie hesitated, and then agreed with a smile. “You’re right. I’ve been too chained to papers and reports lately. Not to mention nursing sick people down in the Quarters. I certainly will be glad when this latest illness goes away. Two more of the children came down with it yesterday. It’s not too serious, but they will be miserable for a few days.” Her face creased with a frown as she thought about them.
Moses interpreted her look. “Sarah will take care of them till you get back, Carrie.” His tone was gentle, but firm.
Carrie gazed at him for a moment and then smiled again. “Lead the way, overseer. We’re all yours.”
Carrie allowed thoughts of everything else to flow from her mind as the three trotted easily down the road. She was thankful for the raised roads her father had so carefully built. The hot sun had already almost dried the well-drained surface, while the fields still had standing puddles from the massive rains. Stretched out on each side were luxuriant fields of green.
Moses pointed proudly to his right. “The tobacco is coming in fine. Even with fewer hands to work it, we’re still on target with what they did last year. This last rain is going to help us a lot. The ground was getting pretty dry. These soaking rains will put all the moisture back in the soil. We should have a bumper crop this year.”
Carrie smiled as she looked over the fields. She knew her father would be proud of the way they looked. She also knew he would be shocked if he knew they had been completely supervised by one of his own slaves. Her father was convinced blacks were intellectually incapable of being in charge of themselves and of their destiny. If he could only see what Moses and the rest had done, maybe it would change his mind. Not that she held much hope of that. She and her father had argued about slavery before. They clearly stood on opposite sides of the fence. He and Robert were in agreement on that issue. Robert... Once again the thoughts she fought so hard to control flooded her mind. His handsome face and flashing dark eyes, surrounded by a shock of wavy, dark hair rose before her.
Granite, startled momentarily by a rabbit bolting from the brush lining the fields, shied slightly and snorted his disdain for the furry little creature as he once again picked up his steady trot. It was enough to jolt Carrie from her errant thoughts.
The three friends rode in silence for a long while. It was Moses who broke the silence. “It doesn’t seem possible there is a war going on. Life is going on around here just like always.”
Once again a frown creased Carrie’s face. “I hope the war doesn’t touch us here.” She paused. “I don’t know how realistic that is, though.” For just a moment she could see swarms of soldiers flooding the fields of Cromwell Plantation. She shook her head to push away the vision. “My father said in his letter that men from all over the South are pouring into Richmond to train as soldiers. Lee has started up a training camp at the Fairgrounds. With Washington less than a hundred miles away, there are sure to be attempts to take Richmond. He said the people seem to be actually eager for a fight.” She shuddered as she thought of the death and destruction on both sides. “They seem to think one good beating from the South will make the North tuck their tails between their legs and flee back to their homes.”
“You disagree?” Rose asked.
“I think too many people are still seeing it as a game. When Southern boys are killed and the wounded start pouring in, I believe reality will set in. And no, I don’t believe the North is full of the cowards they think it is. I know many of them. They, too, are going to fight for what they believe in.”
Moses nodded. “It’s going to be a long war, I think.”
Something in his voice caused Carrie to turn and stare at him, questioning him with her eyes.
He met her gaze without flinching. He squared his shoulders and spoke evenly. “I don’t have anything against you, Carrie. You’re one of the finest women I know. But I got a big problem with all the folks who done been keepin’ my people in bondage for so long. I done seen too much misery to forget it.”
Carrie watched him with compassion. It was at times like this when Moses slipped back into the slave dialect he had spoken all his life. He had learned to read and write quickly under Rose’s tutelage, and he had worked hard to improve his speech so he would be ready to go out into the world when his opportunity for freedom came. But when his great heart became aroused about something he was passionate about, he could still slip back into his old speech.
“You know what we’re doing with the tobacco right now, Carrie?”
Carrie was surprised by his sudden question. What did this have to do with what they were talking about? She furrowed her brow and tried to pull her thoughts back to the cultivation of tobacco. Finally she nodded. “You should be pruning and worming right now.”
Moses nodded. “That’s right.” He paused for a long moment and then continued. “Raising tobacco is the same everywhere. You always got to do the worming or those big, green worms will wipe out an entire crop.”
Carrie watched him closely. Where was he going with this? He knew that she was as informed about farming techniques as he was. Her father, lacking a son to train on the plantation, had imparted all of his knowledge to her. She had even spent some time helping with the worming. She remembered her disgust at having to crush the worms one by one so their voracious appetites wouldn’t obliterate a crop.
“My little sister was working the fields one day when the worming was being done.” Moses face had gone expressionless and his voice was flat.
Carrie’s face softened. She knew he was reliving the pain of his life on the plantation he had come from the year before. She also knew how his heart ached for his family that had been sold away from each other at the auction house in Richmond.
“June was just a little thing then. Not even six years old. She had been in the hot sun all day long and she wasn’t feeling too good. She finally got too tired to kill the worms. Instead of crushing them in her hands, she just dropped them in the field and moved on to the next one. She didn’t have no idea she was being watched...” His voice trailed off and then picked up the story. “I turned around just in time to see the overseer grab her and spin her around. First he slapped her across the face...” Moses’ voice roughened as he remembered. “Then he reached down and grabbed a whole handful of them worms and stuffed them in her mouth. June was a gagging and a choking while he just stood there and laughed.”
A deep silence fell on the three as they all experienced the humiliation and pain of Moses’ story.
Finally Moses spoke again, his voice once more under control. “I don’t know for sure what will happen to slavery if the North wins this war. But I do know for sure what will happen if the
y don’t.” Moses took a deep breath and straightened his broad shoulders a little more. “I aim to do whatever I can to help the North if the opportunity ever comes. Right now I ain’t got no idea what that is...” He paused for a long moment. “But I’ll know when the time comes.” His gaze swung out over the fields as his voice dropped to a rough whisper. “Yep. I’ll know when the time comes.”
Carrie watched him, not in surprise or shock, but in sorrow. Sorrow that it had come to this. Americans fighting Americans. Her heart grew heavy as she, too, allowed her eyes to roam the land that was her home.
The clouds that had descended upon America with the fall of Fort Sumter had intensified in their darkness. Carrie shuddered. Brothers were preparing to fight brothers. Men everywhere were leaving their families and homes to fight in a war they little understood. Friends, divided by loyalties and geography, were taking up arms to destroy friends. Families were being ripped apart by differing allegiances. Carrie knew that dark angels of death waited in the wings while the clouds moved ever lower to meet the darkness of men’s hearts.
Cool air had moved in to claim the night. Carrie sighed with relief as a welcoming breeze flowed through her curtains and swept underneath the canopy bed where she lay. As usual, she was exhausted. The days began early and ended late, full of frenetic activity as she worked to keep a huge plantation running smoothly.
She lay back against her mound of pillows and allowed the refreshing air to caress her tired body. Gradually she felt herself begin to relax. She knew what would come next, but she also knew there was no way to fight it. She had tried for the last five weeks to control her thoughts - to no avail. She would let them run their course, until she fell into a deep sleep of exhaustion.
Unbidden, thoughts of Robert Borden flooded her mind. His handsome face smiling down at her as they swirled and dipped around the dance floor. His enchanting laugh as they cruised up the James River on the packet boat, the John Marshall. His angry look when she tried to talk to him about slavery. And finally, the look of hatred on his face as he told her of watching his father die at the hand of a slave.
