by Marian Wells
Tammera shook her needle at Crystal. “Don’t you sass me! And don’t forget, before I came to this place, I listen to God and pray to Him every day—sometimes all day long. I don’t need any man to teach me how to please the Lord when I already know.”
“I’m sorry,” Crystal murmured. “I have neglected my Bible, only sometimes it doesn’t seem to have anything to do with life.”
Tammera shook her head slowly. “Might be. I gets burdened down, the Lord say ‘cast your burden, Tammera.’ I get fussed up with life, and the Lord say ‘remember there’s still heaven.’ Sugarlam, if you got troubles, the Lord help. If you don’t know you got troubles, then thank Him for the blessings. I guess you can’t embarrass Him with just talking out the problems. Sometimes the only way He can get our attention is by letting a few problems in our life.”
She heaved herself to her feet and shook out the folds in the frock. “Now I go press this. You pray.”
Crystal stared at the door for silent, leaden minutes. Finally she said, “Lord, I haven’t talked to you for a long time. Will you please help me remember how to pray?” And then in another minute, with an embarrassed catch in her voice, she said, “About today, what happened down there. Please don’t let people find out about it. It hurts to know I’m just a slave, or at least halfway.”
Strangely enough, getting the terrible thoughts into words seemed to help. She closed her eyes and tried to recall the face of that man, but all she could remember was the curious light in his eyes when he learned her name. He knows, and I think seeing me made him very happy.
****
Heavy rains turned the following Monday into a dreary one and turned the roads into yellow rivers of mud. They then spewed their dirty water into the true ponds and rivers, bordering them with a line of yellow as the muddy water poured in.
The restlessness Crystal felt seemed to have spread throughout the whole house. The maids trembled at the thunder and crept silently about their tasks. The cook clanged kettles, and all the savory smells didn’t balance her unrest. After prying at Tammera’s gloom, Crystal gathered her books and went down to the library.
Uncle Pierre and Papa stood before the dark fireplace with glasses in hand. They turned as she entered. “Oh, pardon!”
Looking surprised and ill at ease, the two murmured greetings. Papa added, “We are just leaving and won’t return until evening. Come, Pierre. We’ll gather the papers later.” Turning to Crystal he added, “I’ve left lessons for you on the table. Please read the Sir Walter Scott book and I’ll write questions later. Also, avoid disturbing the papers. They are related to business, and I’ve placed them in the order in which we will use them.” He hesitated, kissed her, and hurried out of the room.
Cassie was waiting at the door. As the men walked past, Papa said, “You heard me tell Crystal, do not bother the papers on the desk. They are important and must be kept in order.”
Cassie cocked her head, waiting. When the front door closed she turned to Crystal. With a pleased smile she said, “I know where they go. They going to slave market, I hear them talk about getting slaves to replace Joseph and Lithie.”
“Replace?” Crystal puzzled over the statement. “Cassie, I saw Lithie just this morning.”
“Yes, but they’re going. And there’s not a one who cares—about Lithie, anyway. I don’t know Joseph.”
“Joseph,” Crystal said slowly. She pressed her fingers against her forehead trying to understand the jumble of emotions fighting for attention. Relief! Now no one will know. I can be Mama and Papa’s girl again.
But a new thought occurred, stemming from the Bible verse she had read that morning. As Cassie began her dusting, Crystal murmured the words she had read, “‘We then that are strong ought to bear the infirmities of the weak, and not to please ourselves.’”
“I’m not certain I know what infirmities are.” She addressed Cassie’s back.
The woman turned with a shrug. “Me? I don’t know either. Better look it up in that dictionary. Least you can read.”
Crystal sat at the desk and watched Cassie. Finally she reached for the dictionary, placed it on the stack of papers and thumbed her way through it. “‘Infirmity. Being feeble, having a failing.’ I guess that means old people.”
She closed the book and tried to erase the damage the book had done to the neat stack of papers. “I think Father needs help with his papers,” she murmured as she lined the edges and thumped the papers into a neat pile. Now she realized what the papers contained.
With a quick glance, she thumbed her way through them. Here in front of her were the documents and bill of sale for each of the slaves. She recognized the names. This one was the bill of sale on Cassie, and this one was Tammera’s. The papers bore the numbers assigned to the slave, a description, known background and the date of purchase. Quickly she found the one for Joseph. He had been bought as a child of fourteen. That was four years before her birth! She felt her throat squeeze tight. With a strange sensation of being led where she didn’t want to go, she folded the paper and stuffed it into her pocket.
Chapter 14
Olivia turned to Matthew and grinned at him. He pulled his horse even with hers. “That’s a cat-in-the-cream grin. Why?”
“Oh, Matthew, you know. Mother stifles us when she comes along to Natchez. You know she doesn’t like these parties with the cousins, so it’s really a relief to have her decide to stay at home.”
“What you are really saying is that you’ve every intention of riding bareback with Lem, which she specifically forbade. But sister dear, Mother took the old dungarees out of your valise, didn’t you know?”
For a moment dismay pulled Olivia’s face down. Then with a grin, she said, “Lem can supply me; we’re nearly the same size.”
He shook his head sadly, “Tut, you’ll never land a promising husband until you reform. Olivia, who knows? This might be the party Prince Charming will waltz into your life. And where is my esteemed sister? Riding horses in the pasture with her rascal of a cousin.”
The road narrowed, Olivia pulled her mount ahead and rescued her riding habit from the clutches of the bramble bush. “Nevertheless,” she called over her shoulder, “I intend to have a good time. And if you don’t behave yourself, I’ll tell Mother.”
“Tit for tat,” he called with a laugh.
The Newton Thomas mansion perched atop a bluff overlooking the Mississippi River. To the east stretched broad pasture land and beyond that, the wild and heavily forested acres that had given the home the name Tall Timbers. To the west the house looked down its own garden path to an inlet with dock and beach. The seclusion of the inlet and the forest made it easy to forget that the narrow winding road leading up the far side of the hill passed the notorious Natchez-under-the-Hill, which had gained its unsavory reputation during the days of the heavy flatboat traffic on the River. From the front door and garden of the house the shacks and brothels of the area were not visible, and not many people knew the Natchez Trace cut through a corner of Tall Timbers.
It was late afternoon when Matthew and Olivia broke onto the Trace and rode up the hill into the setting sun. Matthew halted his mare and pointed to the River. “It’s higher this year than last. Look! The little island has disappeared.”
“Oh, I hope we’ll have a boat ride,” Olivia murmured, shielding her eyes as she studied the broad expanse of water, silvered by the setting sun. She added, “It looks as if someone’s taken out all the trees on the bank upriver.”
“Flack’s land,” Matthew murmured. “Can’t imagine him farming that close to the River. Probably sold the trees to Jenson.”
“That fellow who sells firewood to the steamboats?”
Matthew nodded and turned to point down the road. “There’s our wagon.”
“I’m grateful we didn’t have to ride with the baggage,” Olivia exclaimed as she watched the wagon roll slowly up the hill. “Auntie’s request for help came just in time. Our people are taking up every inch that the
trunks don’t.”
“Let’s get out of here before we have to eat their dust.”
When they arrived, Alberta and Lynda were there to greet them, with Alberta standing in the doorway and Lynda racing down the steps. She kissed Matthew and Olivia. “My favorite cousins. Oh, Matthew, you are so elegant!” She reached for his arm as she tousled his light curls. “Too bad you are my first cousin, and that I know what an unbearable tease you are. Did you bring a guest?”
“No, cousin dear, but from the look in your eye, methinks I’ll run down under the hill and see what I can find.”
“Beast!” Lynda tucked her arm through Olivia’s. Her blue eyes sparkled with excitement as she tossed brown curls out of her eyes and said, “Lem has nearly driven us wild with his plans for you. One would think it is his birthday. Come, Mother is waiting to greet you.”
****
Voices awakened Olivia early in the morning. Slipping from the bed she went to the window. Matthew, Uncle Newton, and Lem were talking in loud, excited voices as they strode down the path to the dock. “Oh no!” Olivia moaned, “They’re heading for the boat.”
There was a tap on her door and Alberta peeked through the crack. “Mother needs to pick up a sunbonnet today. Hurry and we can go with her.”
Olivia gave a longing glance at the window. “I’ll be down in minutes.” She quickly got ready and rushed downstairs.
Alberta came to meet Olivia in the breakfast room. “That is a lovely frock,” she murmured, fingering the voile and touching the ribbons. “How fortunate you are to have such skin! I look ill in yellow.”
Olivia gave Alberta a squeeze. “I’ll surrender my skin if you can teach me to sit still long enough to learn petit point.” She waved to the sampler on the wall, “Those roses are exquisite.”
“Is it a fair trade, Mother?”
Olivia’s aunt smiled, “Yes, but knowing that Olivia can’t sit still very long, you’d never get the chance—you’d still be waiting when her skin is as wrinkled as mine! Olivia, I’m surprised you weren’t down here with the menfolk this morning.”
“I think they were avoiding me,” she said ruefully. “I saw them heading for the dock while I was still in my nightgown. Are we going to have an excursion?”
Alberta’s mother nodded. “Yes. They are going to check out the boat this morning.”
“I tried to get Papa to rent a small steamboat. The Larkinsons had one last year, and it was so much fun. He says we can’t afford one this year. Mother, is it a bad year for crops?”
“No, it’s just that birthday parties for an eighteen-year-old are expensive when they last all week.”
Lynda came into the room and stood next to her mother. “Aren’t you glad you don’t have five daughters like the Morgans?”
Mrs. Thomas rolled her eyes, fanned herself briskly, and said, “Now, hurry with breakfast. We’ve lots to do today.”
****
Matthew glanced at his uncle, Newton Thomas, as the three walked down the garden path. Newton explained, “Thought we might as well check out the caulking job on the boat this morning. Give you fellows a chance to limber up your rowing arms, too.”
Lem said, “I wanted Father to rent a steamboat. The Allens have a neat little job. They use it for excursions on the river with the family.”
“I checked it out. Peter is going to replace the boiler before he uses it again.”
After they reached the boat, Matthew hopped in first followed by Newton, who turned to look at Lem. “I trust you brought enough to eat, because I plan on rowing upriver to Timber Isle. You two are expected to have a few sore muscles by evening; don’t disappoint me!”
Lem groaned as he stood by, waiting to cast off. He untied the rope, gave the boat a shove, and jumped in. “If we’d waited, betcha Olivia would have been willing to do her share of rowing.”
“The women have their day planned,” Newton replied as he leaned into the oars and the current caught the boat. Matthew grunted as the current tugged at his oar. While the men concentrated on the rhythm of the dipping oars, Lem rummaged in the picnic basket.
He was on his third tart when he exclaimed, “Hey, heave to. Is that Allen’s boat? It’s a steamer, and he’s not going anywhere.”
Matthew lifted his head and wiped perspiration out of his eyes. “Neat little rig. Uncle Newt, shall we check it out?”
“Well it isn’t on a sandbar. Might be engine trouble. Better see to it. Lem, stay out of the lunch and come spell me.”
Lem shoved a cake into his mouth, pointed at the boat and said, “A man on board the steamer is hailing us!”
They paddled near the stalled boat and then pitched a rope to the dark, bearded man leaning over the rail who then pulled them close. “Hey, thanks fellows. We’ve split a paddle. I don’t know enough about this rig to trust limping into dock in this condition. We do know what we need for repair.”
Matthew pulled off his cap and mopped his face. The stranger reached for him. “Matthew Thomas! Well, if this isn’t luck.”
Slowly Matthew began to grin. “Alexander Duncan? That beard! Who are you hiding from?” He grasped the extended hand and swung aboard the steamer. “Bet this is the little rig you told me about. Friend, where’ve you been for the past year?”
He turned to help the other two aboard. “Sorry. Alex, I want to introduce my uncle, Newton Thomas and his son, Lem. Newt, Lem, this is Alexander Duncan. We were at Harvard together.” Matthew watched Alex shake hands with Lem as he surveyed the beard and the gold hoop in Alex’s ear. “Old buddy, I think we have a lot of catching up to do.”
Alex nodded and reached for the arm of the Negro standing behind him. “And Caleb is my first mate.”
After everyone had been introduced, they all spent some time examining the problem and then Newton Thomas addressed Alex, “We’ll take you into Natchez and bring you back to the steamer. Your biggest need is for the metal housing on the paddle. I think I know just the place to find it. Shall we get going?”
Alex hesitated and then turned to Caleb, “Think you can go after it?” The two exchanged a long glance and Caleb nodded. Alex faced Newton. “I’ll have Caleb go. He knows as much or more about this rig than I do. Sir, I really appreciate your helping us.”
Matthew touched his cap as he went over the side, “Man, it’s good to see you. Hope we get a chance to catch up on talk. See you later.”
****
Newton Thomas wiped the grease from his hands after replacing the paddle, and nodded at Alex. “I think that paddle will take you to forever and back. And now that that job is finished, I see you and Matthew have a lot of catching up to do. If you aren’t in a hurry, lay over at our place. The Mississippi sweeps through our inlet with just enough water to float you.”
Newton nodded at Matthew, “Stay aboard and show him the way.”
“Sir, that’s mighty nice of you,” Alex said. “I’ll at least spend the night. I don’t take the rig up the river in the dark. I’m a novice, and not inclined to take chances.”
By the time Newton and Lem had climbed back on their own boat and disappeared around the island, Caleb had the steam up. Matthew watched the roustabouts shoving wood into the fire. “This is a nice little outfit, just as you told me it was. Alex, my curiosity is about to get the best of me.”
“Come up to the pilothouse and I’ll bring you up to date.” For a moment Matthew studied the serious expression in Alex’s eyes. He shrugged and followed him up the stairs.
In the pilothouse he turned to Alex. “All right, give. What’s going on?”
“Why did you get the idea there’s anything—”
“Just your expression. You aren’t the old Alex. Man, you’ve got the weight of the world on your shoulders! I nearly didn’t recognize you. Certainly you aren’t the pub-hopping fella from Harvard!”
Alex grinned. “That’s right. Well, your uncle’s invitation demands an explanation. Let’s get this thing docked and I’ll tell you.”
“It bet
ter be good. Why didn’t you answer the letter?”
Alex glanced up. “I didn’t get one. I should have written on my own. I’d intended to look you up. But there’s a complication, and I’d decided to scrap the plan for this trip. Now show me the way into this inlet, and let’s find a place to tie up for the night.”
“How about cozying up under the trees just beyond the end of the wharf? You can tie on to the trees.”
Matthew watched Alex cut the speed and slowly flank the steamboat close to the bank. Alex turned from the wheel. “Caleb will handle the rest of it. Come sit down, and I’ll fill you in.”
“What happened to you in Boston?” Matthew asked.
“I honestly don’t know. I lost one whole day out of my life and woke up on Garrison’s doorstep.”
“The abolitionist?”
Alex nodded. “Also met John Greenleaf Whittier. Between the two of them, I left Boston feeling like my coattails were on fire.”
“I’ll bet. You’re lucky they didn’t give you a good dose of religion—their kind.”
“I think they did. It just took a while for it to sink in.”
“How come the beard and the earring?”
Alex wiped an embarrassed grin off his face. “Rag me, and I’ll push you overboard. Matt, I don’t know how to say this so that you’ll understand without getting offended.”
“Well, then just say it, and I’ll get offended.”
“Simply this. I got a good dose of religion—just like you said. Took all this time—from the time I pulled out of Boston until just six weeks ago, for me to understand the Lord was trying to get my attention. Matt, I know we’ve both had exposure to church and Bible teaching. But I came out of it with a smug assurance that God was pretty pleased to get me as a church member. It took all Whittier, Garrison, and Caleb had to say before the veneer was stripped off.”
“Caleb—that Negro?”
“Former slave, and now my dear friend and employee. Matt, listening to him talk left me with a pretty clear picture of myself and a big heartache for the kind of personal relationship with Jesus Christ that Caleb had. I discovered that true religion is something you know you have. A relationship with the Lord Jesus Christ makes Him Lord of all of me as well as my dearest Friend.”
