by Ginny Dye
Aunt Abby turned and placed the container on the table. “Nonsense! You did nothing of the kind. Believe it or not, I find I miss cooking occasionally. You have so completely taken over the household work, I find myself feeling guilty at times. But I am in here tonight out of nothing but desire. Most nights I’m more than happy to leave the cooking to you since you’re much better than I; you’ve been treating me to foods I’d never dreamed about - but tonight I find I want to help.”
Rose smiled and moved forward. “What are we cooking?”
“Clam chowder seems to hit the spot for me tonight.”
Rose nodded. “That sounds wonderful.” She and Moses had grown to love the seafood chowders so common in the North. “I’ll cut the potatoes while you make the base.”
Silence prevailed in the kitchen as the two women worked side by side. Wonderful aromas soon permeated the air. When Rose had dumped all of the potatoes into the waiting cream base, she quickly cut several thick slabs of bread and pulled the butter out of the icebox. When she turned back, she saw Aunt Abby watching her closely.
“Are you happy here?” Aunt Abby asked suddenly.
Rose stared at her. “How can you not think I’m happy? I have everything I dreamed of. I’m in school. I’m free. What more could I want?”
“You could want to go back home and make a difference for your people,” she said flatly.
Rose flushed and then slowly nodded. “You’re right, Aunt Abby. I truly have everything I want here. But every day I think of the millions of blacks who could never even dream of these things in the South. My mama always told me that God gave me gifts so that I could use them to help his people. I think black people need my gifts more than any other. I miss seeing children’s eyes light up when they finally understand what I’m teaching them. It is a thrill like no other.”
“What if the South wins the war and your people don’t go free?”
Rose shrugged. She had thought about it. “I’ll find some way to help,” she stated firmly. “I have a dream of one day Southern black children all attending school like white children do here in the North.” Then she shook her head. “Not even most white children go to school there now.”
“Why not? Surely people see the benefits of children being educated.”
“I’m afraid they don’t,” Rose responded. “I used to hear Marse Cromwell talking about it with visitors at the dinner table. The high society of Virginia tolerates the idea of some education for poor white children, but state-enforced public education is a whole different matter. The planters believe that government has no right to intervene in the education of children. They see it as also trying to interfere in the larger social arrangement. They talk about how much money is being spent on the public school effort, but it seems only a drop in the bucket of what is needed.”
Aunt Abby looked up from stirring the chowder. “Whatever makes them feel that way?”
“They believe public education will violate the natural evolution of society,” she said, remembering the many discussions around the table late at night. “They think it will threaten the family’s authority over their children. They are also afraid it will damage the relations between business owners and laborers if workers are all educated. They also believe it will usurp the function of the church.”
Aunt Abby turned and stared at her. “How in the world could learning usurp the function of the church?”
Rose shook her head. “I think it’s crazy, too. And I can’t really say I understand it. Just seems to me like people call in the power of the church to stop things they don’t want to happen.”
“It’s fear,” Aunt Abby said firmly. “Everything you have just told me is nothing but fear - fear that the life they have built for themselves, and have always known, will disappear if other people are given the same opportunities as themselves.”
“I guess all of us are motivated by fear in some way,” Rose acknowledged. “I don’t think most of the Southern planters have any idea that what they are doing is wrong. It’s simply the only way they have ever known.”
“You are defending them?” Aunt Abby asked in astonishment.
Rose shook her head. “Not defending them. Just trying to understand a little bit. It helps me not to feel so bitter about all the wasted years when I can grasp some kind of understanding.” She paused and continued. “The South may win this war, but I don’t believe, even if they do, that they will be able to return to the life they once knew. Too many soldiers will have risked their lives, standing in equality beside rich planters and their sons. They will not so easily go back to their place in society. And if what I am hearing is correct, thousands of slaves are fleeing from their owners already.”
“Yes. I understand the number in the contraband camps is growing.”
Rose nodded. “And they’re going to school! Missionaries from the North are going down and setting up schools in the camps. I learned today about a free black woman by the name of Mary Peake who just organized one of the first public schools for blacks. It’s down in Fort Monroe in Hampton.” Her eyes glistened with excitement. “That’s not all that far from where I came from, you know.”
“How many students does she have?” Aunt Abby asked with interest while she raised the spoon to her lips to taste the chowder. “Needs to cook a while longer,” she interjected cheerfully. Then she waved Rose over to sit down at the table.
Rose followed her then answered her question. “Within two weeks she had forty-five students! There is no telling how many she has now. She opened the school in September. Her students are learning spelling, reading, writing, and arithmetic. Why, they’re even singing in school!”
Aunt Abby regarded her closely. “And you want to go down to help.”
Rose hesitated then answered honestly. “Slavery has robbed my people of the right to education for too long. Yes, I want to help. But not yet. I still have so much I want to learn myself before I can be the teacher I want to be. I keep telling myself to be patient - to make the most of where I am now.” Then she leaned forward and took Aunt Abby’s hand. “And I can’t even imagine leaving you right now. This may sound presumptuous coming from a black woman, but I love you very much. Being here with you has taken away some of the pain of not having my mama.”
Aunt Abby smiled and squeezed her hand. “And having you here has taken away my awful loneliness. I love you and Moses, too,” she said sincerely. “My house needs to have young people in it. I need someone to care for other than myself. Thank you for letting me do that.”
Just then they heard the front door open, and a small blast of cold air circulated its way back to the kitchen.
“Moses!” Rose jumped up and hurried to meet him. She stopped when she saw him and then chuckled. “It’s snowing again?”
Moses grinned and then began to peel off his coat. “I tried to get most of it off on the doorstep, but it’s coming down mighty hard.”
Rose laughed. “You look like a snowman.” Just then the chimes on the clock burst forth with their pronouncement of the time. Startled, Rose looked at it and then peered out the window. “It’s dark. I must have lost track of the time when I was talking to Aunt Abby. Why are you so late?” Moses was usually home before it was dark. The wagons that hauled the trash from the city didn’t operate that late.
Moses smiled then turned to hang his coat up on the rack.
“You look like the cat that just got the canary,” came Aunt Abby’s voice from behind them.
Rose nodded. “She’s right. What are you looking so pleased about?” The quiet look of satisfaction on Moses’ face, along with an excited glow in his eyes, intrigued her, yet somehow discomfited her at the same time.
Moses smiled again but merely moved in the direction of a kitchen. “Can’t a guy eat around here?”
Rose stamped her foot in frustration and glared at him.
Moses laughed then. “You know good and well I’m going to tell you what’s going on. But how do you expect a man to
tell important news when he’s starving?”
“All right,” Rose muttered. “But you’d better eat fast.” Quickly she led the way into the dining room.
Moses finally looked up from his third bowl of chowder and fourth slice of bread. “Thank you. That was delicious.” He patted his stomach and pushed back in his chair. “I went to see Mr. Walker today, Aunt Abby.”
Aunt Abby looked at him in surprise. “My friend, Albert Walker?”
“Remember telling me about how he had connections with the government?”
“Why, of course. He’s quite an important man.” Aunt Abby looked at him more closely. “What prompted the visit today?”
Rose watched Moses carefully. She knew the determined light in his eyes. It meant he was preparing to do something important.
Moses shrugged. “I’ve been hearing things. We got done with the trash route early today so the boss let us go. I was walking home when I looked up and saw his name on a placard.”
“Yes,” Aunt Abby said. “He has had his law office on Fifth Street for years. His efforts on behalf of the Anti-Slavery Society have been invaluable.”
“He’s a fine man,” Moses agreed.
Rose couldn’t stand it any longer. “What kind of things have you been hearing? What happened when you saw Mr. Walker?” Moses turned and looked at her, a tender light in his eyes. For some reason, that light made her more nervous. She struggled to push down the uneasiness rising in her. She had no basis for it.
Moses must have sensed her struggle because he launched right into his story. “I’ve been hearing rumors about the Union army.”
Aunt Abby regarded him quizzically, “Excuse me for how this might sound, but how in the world do you hear rumors about the Union army in your work as a trash man?”
Rose laughed. She had wondered the same thing herself.
Moses laughed along with them. “You would be amazed the things men will say when they’re standing around on the street corner. Since my trash route runs through the heart of the business district, I hear a great many important men talking. I believe they must think all blacks to be either deaf, or just stupid, for they continue with their talking just as if we weren’t there. I have found myself moving very slowly at times while I listened to their conversations,” he finished with a grin.
Rose just nodded. She knew what he meant. Aunt Abby looked chagrined.
“Anyway,” Moses continued, “like I said, I’ve heard rumors. General McClellan is building up a huge army outside of Washington.”
Aunt Abby nodded. “He took over as commander of the Army of the Potomac in July. They made him commander-in-chief of all the Union forces in November.”
Moses nodded. “He hasn’t done much with his troops in all this time, other than continue to build his army bigger and stronger. There is a lot of pressure on him to do something.”
Aunt Abby nodded again. “There have been some rather nasty rumors about the man himself. Evidently McClellan was the protégé of Jefferson Davis when he was in the peacetime army. That would be enough to make people look at him suspiciously. Then I heard that he had ties to the filibusters.”
“The filibusters?” Rose echoed. “What is that?”
“The filibusters were private armies in the fifties that menaced Central and South America and sought the expansion of slavery.” Aunt Abby paused and then continued. “Many of my friends in the Anti-Slavery Society are concerned as well. When McClellan took charge of the Army of the Potomac, he told them he would not fight either for the Republican Party or for the abolition of slavery, but only for the restoration of the Union. It has deeply concerned many of my friends.”
“I think, from what I hear, that all the rumors are putting pressure on McClellan to do something,” Moses commented. “We’re closing in on the last week of January. He will have to take some kind of action soon.”
Aunt Abby frowned. “I thought he had taken ill with typhoid fever at the beginning of the year.”
Moses nodded. “I heard today that he was almost fully recovered.”
Rose listened impatiently to all the talk surrounding her. Finally she spoke up. “What do rumors about McClellan have to do with that look in your eyes?” She made no effort to hide her impatience.
Moses turned to her immediately. “I’m sorry, Rose. I am going somewhere with all this.”
“I certainly hope so,” Rose tried to battle the mounting fear inside her.
“I heard some men talking today about McClellan’s supposed plans. What they know of them, anyway. The general is pretty closed-mouth about his campaigns. From what I heard, though, he is going to try and approach Richmond from the mouth of the Rappahannock River at Urbanna.”
Rose looked at him in surprise. “Why that’s less than twenty miles from the plantation.”
Moses nodded. “I know. Landing his forces there would put Union forces less than fifty miles from Richmond.” His eyes flashed brightly before he continued. “When I heard that, I decided it was time to pay a visit to Mr. Walker.”
“Because you want to be a part of it,” Rose said flatly.
Moses nodded and turned to her, his eyes pleading. “You’ve known all along that I want to help the Union win this war.”
“What did you discover today?” she asked quietly.
“Mr. Walker greeted me most graciously when I arrived at his office, especially when I told him who I was living with.” He turned to smile at Aunt Abby. “He thinks very highly of you.”
Aunt Abby smiled and inclined her head. “He’s a very gracious man.”
Moses continued on. “He became more interested when I told him I had lived in that general area of Virginia for the last two years and that I was quite adept at making my way around there.”
“I thought the Union was still adamant about not using blacks in the military,” Aunt Abby interrupted.
Moses shrugged. “They are. But I convinced Mr. Walker, at least, that they need someone with them who knows the area well. Just in the few minutes we talked, I cleared up one misconception for him. I’m not sure of his connection with all this, but somewhere he had gotten the idea that the roads through there were sandy and well-drained.”
Rose chuckled.
“Exactly,” Moses grinned. “I assured him his information was wrong and used it as yet another point of how I could make myself useful.”
Rose stared at him. “You volunteered your services as a spy?”
Moses nodded. “I don’t know yet if they will be accepted, but Mr. Walker is going to put in a good word for me. He seems to carry some influence.”
Aunt Abby nodded. “Albert Walker is a very powerful man in this city. He is well known in Washington as well. He was influential in getting Lincoln elected. He most definitely carries influence.”
Moses listened carefully, his eyes glowing brighter. “He told me he would stay in touch.”
“Do you really think the army will let a black man act as a spy?” Rose asked.
Moses shrugged. “I don’t know. I do know that before this war is over, thousands of black men will play a part in winning the victory.”
Aunt Abby looked at him closely. “You really believe that, don’t you?”
Moses nodded firmly. “Not only are there free black men willing to lay their lives on the line - there are thousands of former slaves willing to do anything to see slavery abolished. Rightly or wrongly, we believe this war - if we win it - will be the end to slavery.”
“Lincoln has made no statement to that effect,” Aunt Abby said in a troubled voice.
Moses shrugged again. “Let’s just say it’s something all of us feel in our bones. That’s good enough for us.”
Rose watched him. He already knew she agreed with him. “How long would you be gone,” she asked quietly.
Moses shook his head and laughed. “I have no idea! I don’t even know if I’m going anywhere. Mr. Walker told me to keep on collecting trash and learning from you. Any notification I may
get could come at the last moment.” He paused. “Only time will tell.”
Rose nodded, trying to calm her insides. She had known all along that Moses wanted to help the Union. But knowing something and dealing with it were two different things. She and Moses had not been apart even one day since he had arrived on the plantation. She couldn’t help the tears that sprang to her eyes.
Aunt Abby reached forward to put her hand on top of hers. Rose looked up into her caring eyes. “Great causes require great sacrifices, Rose. They always have, and they always will.” Her own eyes filled with tears.
Rose knew she was thinking of Matthew Justin.
“Moses is still with us for now,” she continued. “If duty takes him away, we will continue to take one day at a time. At least we will have each other for comfort and encouragement.”
Rose nodded. She knew she shouldn’t let her fear overwhelm her. Suddenly, in her mind, she was back on the boat in the middle of the Potomac River as Moses battled the wind and rain. The lesson she had learned came back to her. She would no longer ask what they were going to do next, or whether they would make it or not. God had brought them this far. She smiled now and leaned forward to take Moses’ hand. “I believe in you, Moses. If there is something you can do to help make a difference, I’ll support you all the way.”
Moses lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it gently, his eyes expressing his love and gratitude. “Thank you,” he said softly.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Robert emerged from his tent and walked over to the fire. Jackson’s troops had arrived at Unger’s Store the night before, after two days of brutal traveling. His men’s voices floated out to him.
“I think Jackson is crazy!”
“Those crazy stories we heard about him at the Virginia Military Institute must have been true,” another announced bitterly.
“Yeah. Who but a crazy man would have troops out in weather like this?” another interrupted.
