The 15th Star (A Lisa Grace History - Mystery)

by Lisa Grace

  The Major was shocked. He had forced himself on many women, black and white. He did not discriminate. Of course, it had never dawned on him the mother might be black. He had heard of blacks passing as white, but his own son? There was nothing black in him. He made up his mind that Tommie Lynn must be lying, hoping for a greater amount of money. He hated her in that moment.

  “So what exactly do you want?” he asked.

  “If I had been honest, and let people know the baby was alive, I wouldn’t be in this situation of business drying up.”

  “Are you black mailing me?”

  “No Major, I was appealing to your Christian side. You could help out a poor widow who is willing to work. Of course, eventually people will forget and business will pick up again, but I was hoping, until then…” Tommie Lynn smiled.

  The Major smiled back as he picked up a pretty embroidered pillow from the side chair. “You were counting on my Christian nature. Sadly, I don’t have one,” Major Rivers said as he grabbed Tommie Lynn and held the pillow tight against her face until he was sure she was dead. Tommie Lynn fought but his arms were longer than hers. She could grab onto his forearms but she was weak. Struggling for breath, kicking out with her legs, she could find nothing to kick, just empty air. All that air and none of it in her lungs. Tommie Lynn passed on.

  Major Rivers carefully fluffed the pillow back up and set it on the chair where it belonged. When he left, with a little luck, people would believe she died of her heart giving out. He strode confidently to the front door and opened it a crack to make sure the coast was clear. All he saw was one slave person in the distance. Their testimony wasn’t legal in court and they would not want to mess with a man in uniform anyway. Major Rivers confidently closed the door behind him and walked home at a brisk pace enjoying the cool crisp evening air.

  ***

  Grace had just finished delivering a new flag of colors for a ship that was eager to pull out of port the next morning. She had hurried so she wouldn’t be caught alone in the dark, but the captain had kept her waiting so she had no choice. Grace was grateful there was plenty of moonlight tonight to guide her way down the darkened streets. As she drew close to Tommie Lynn’s house, she saw the door open and a man in uniform come out. It took a few seconds, but then recognition kicked in. It was Major Rivers leaving Tommie Lynn’s house.

  Grace reached out and touched the wall of the building she was passing to keep from falling. What could that evil man have to do with Tommie Lynn? There was only one reason he would visit her. Tommie Lynn must not have realized how soulless that man was. Grace’s legs gave out. She leaned against the building watching as the Major strode away. She knew she should check on Tommie Lynn, but God forgive her, she couldn’t. What if he came back? She was afraid if he caught her alone again, he would do what he’d done before, or worse.

  She peeked further down the street and saw him turn down the one that led to his house. Even so, when her legs would support her weight again, she walked home as silently and slowly as she could. Every sound made her jump. A block from home, she even screamed out a little when Socks the cat rubbed against her ankles the way he always did. When she reached the door and the light of the kitchen fire, she was still shaking.

  “Whatever is the matter Grace? You’re shaking. Have a seat. Let me get you a cup of coffee, and tell me what scared you so bad.”

  “I saw the man who...we were alone in the dark—he didn’t see me. I’ll be fine. It was just…scary. I’m fine. I’ll be fine. I’m fine. Dear Lord help me!” Grace took a deep breath. “I’m fine.” Grace sat down, calming herself by rocking back and forth.

  Bethany sat down and put a steaming cup in front of Grace. She looked at Grace with concern. “I didn’t know the man lived around here. If you are ever afraid to go somewhere alone, you don’t have to. Nothing is so important as to risk your safety,” Bethany reached out and squeezed Grace’s hand, “Never go out this close to dark again. Next time they need a flag so bad, they can send a sailor to fetch it.”

  Grace nodded her head and took a sip to calm herself. She sloshed a little over the side and the cup rattled as she set it back down. May haps she was wrong. Maybe he had a good reason for being at the midwife’s house. Could his wife be with child and they’d decided to use her? But what about the new lady all the rich folk were using? Didn’t make no sense. Grace felt sick. Thank God he hadn’t seemed to notice her. She was dark and it was dark out. She’d been several houses down. Maybe he wouldn’t even remember who she was. If that ship’s captain had let her go a minute sooner…she’d might of run right into him! The thought made her moan. Grace did everything she could to avoid any accidental meetings with him. It wasn’t hard. He was a wealthy powerful man and she was only one step above a house slave.

  Grace decided to not mention it to anyone else. Best to let this encounter slide into the past.

  ***

  The next day, Grace went to the post to drop off a bill and fetch the mail. There was a package for her from her dear friend Mrs. Louisa. They had been keeping in touch. Mrs. Louisa had suffered the death of her beloved husband George who had made the rank of Lieutenant Colonel. She could tell the package contained cloth from the heft and feel of it. Mrs. Louisa had always been very generous to her, sending little luxuries she could not afford. Or trinkets she knew Grace would not be allowed into the rich stores to buy for herself. She wondered what it could be, enjoying the anticipation as much as the present itself. Maybe it was a new petticoat, or jacket, something in a summery pattern. Or maybe a coverlet for her bed. Once she had sent her a beautiful plush pillow. And once a beautiful quill pen with writing ink, and always she sent new stationary and postage for Grace to keep up their correspondence. Grace spent her free time sewing little embroidered patterns on fine silks left from the flags to decorate Mrs. Louisa’s daughter’s clothes. Her skill was all she had to give. Grace studied the rich ladies dresses at the holidays to see what their fine clothes from overseas had on them and then she could copy the patterns. Mrs. Louisa always wrote back how lucky she was to have such a talented friend as Grace and several of her lady friends were jealous that she could afford to get embroidery and silks from overseas.

  Grace laughed to think if those fine ladies only knew…but that was one of the two secrets kept between Mrs. Louisa and herself. She always slipped in a line or two about Grace’s son and how big and well he was growing to be.

  Later that evening, after savoring the feel of the package all day, she opened it quietly in her room. On top was some beautiful new stationary. Underneath was an old canvas cloth, folded, strangely shaped. As she unwrapped it and spread it out on the bed, she realized it was a star, a star off the flag she had sewn. As she unfolded the last point, she found a letter from Louisa. Grace opened it, and read:

  May 3, 1819

  Dearest Grace,

  I, Louisa Armistead, send you this star as a token of your service to our country. As has been my custom since the death of my beloved husband, George Armistead, I would like to honor you as a hero. You gave your honor in the service to our country and to this flag. I, witnessed Major Stanton Rivers take advantage and abuse you in the most unhonourable way a man can to a woman. I was not in time to stop his advances, but I witnessed as he left you in a most grievous state after dishonoring you. His dalliance ended in the birth of the son you bore him, the one he now raises. I give this letter and this star as a pledge on mine and God’s honor that what I speak of is the truth. I have written this letter as well I know how short a life can be. In case my dear Grace has need of claiming her son or her honor, it is my intention that this star bears the truth. Grace this secret is yours to keep or not. I will always stand behind you, my dear friend and hero.

  With love and appreciation,

  Mrs. George Armistead

  The star from the flag. Grace wiped the tears from her eyes. The flag she, Mary, Caroline, and the two nieces, Eliza and Jane Young, had worked on day and night for six weeks in th
e basement of Claggett’s Brewery. She had heard the cannons from the ships firing on the fort and she and the family had spent the day and night in prayer. She had prayed all that night for the safety of Major Armistead and his soldiers. She had never really thought about the flag. But now that the star was laid out on her bed, she remembered the day they had raised the flag on the pole, how big and strong it was and how proud she had felt to have worked on this piece of history. And here it was, right on her bed. She knew how special this star was, and Grace was touched. She flipped it over and there on the underside was the number fifteen written in a wax chalk that wouldn’t stain through along with Mary’s initials.

  She truly was honored. Grace knew that the flag represented a triumph in Louisa’s husband’s career. It also stood for a very happy time in their young marriage. Grace now contemplated what she would do with it. For now, she folded it up, with the letter in the middle, and then she tied it back up carefully in the brown paper wrapping. She placed it in the bottom drawer of her desk. Grace had no idea what to do with the star. She had no reason to think she would ever need it as she intended to take the secret of her baby to her grave. His life was much better being raised white with the Rivers’ name.

  But Louisa was smart. If she thought Grace might need the star someday, maybe she would. At the least, it was a touching tribute from her dearest friend, but it was also a reminder of a terrible heartache that would never heal.

  ***

  Later that evening, Major Rivers thought back over his action from the night before. Nobody had visited Tommie Lynn’s so the body was still lying there waiting to be discovered. He remembered the encounter as it gave him pleasure. He paused when he thought of the last few things she had said. Insinuating his son’s mother was black and then mentioning a name, a name he couldn’t place. He wondered if he should be worried. The chances of a black woman coming out with the truth, if it were the truth, was slim. He should look into it. Just to be safe. No one would care about a dead slave. If it were an accident, he could always replace the monetary value to the owner. He knew the way his mind worked. He would sleep on it, and by morning, he would remember the name. Then if he still felt bothered, he would clear up the one little problem that was left.

  ***

  The next day, Grace and Bethany were sitting in the kitchen when a local farmer stopped by with some cows’ cream Bethany had ordered to churn into butter. Today was her baking day and she liked to add in butter to “plump up the flavor” as she liked to say. “You hear what’s happened to Tommie Lynn?” the farmer said. He was missing most his teeth and at times it made him hard to understand.

  “Found her dead, early this mornin’, I did,” he said proudly. “Smelled like she been there a day or two, I went an’ got the doctor. Nothing he could do for her. She been gone too long.”

  Grace felt fear climbing up her back, “How’d she pass? Do you think someone did her in?” she asked.

  “No,” he chuckled, “look like she keeled right over, right in her kitchen, prob’ly day ‘fore yesterday.”

  Grace grew cold. That was the same evening she saw Major Rivers leaving Tommie Lynn’s house. If she were already dead and he had discovered her, he would have gotten the doctor or the undertaker, but he didn’t. Grace knew he had killed her. Would he be coming for her next? It had to be over the baby. What had Tommie Lynn done? Had she tried to bribe him? Grace felt fear creep into her heart. Would he kill her to keep a secret? She knew the answer. Yes, he would. And he knew how to make it look like an accident. Grace decided she would not go anywhere or be left alone the next few days. She had to figure out how to keep him from going after her. She would never tell her secret. Grace was going to have to be smarter than Tommie Lynn. If she wanted to live, she had to think of a way to keep Major Rivers away from her. She had to think. Make him afraid that if she did die, then the secret would come out. But how could she do that? Tonight she would spend the evening in prayer. If she prayed long enough and hard enough, maybe God would hear her and give her an answer to her problem.

  ***

  The next morning, Major Rivers woke up and thought back on the day he murdered Tommie Lynn.

  If he lay there quietly with his eyes closed, it would be just like reliving the whole episode. So he lay quietly, waiting for the minutes to relive themselves in his memory.

  He followed Tommie Lynn back into the kitchen while she fetched herself a cup of tea. He walked through and pushed the doors open to both the bedrooms peering in.

  “So what was the urgent business you needed to see me about?” he asked.

  “Well,” Tommie Lynn smiled, “After I said the baby had died, the one I brought to you, I had a run of bad luck and now mothers are afraid to see me in case their baby would be the next to die. As we both know your baby didn’t die. The mother didn’t die either. I was surprised at the time you never asked who the mother was. And, of course naturally, you assumed the mother was white. Poor Grace is missing her son so much. You remember Grace, don’t you? The sweet little thing that works for Mary Pickersgill?” Tommie Lynn sighed. Major Rivers stopped his memory at that point. Grace who works for Mary Pickersgill. Pickersgill. The name rang a bell, but it didn’t come to him who she was. He would have to ask around and see if someone could point her out.

  ***

  Major Rivers walked out to his groomsman in the stable area, “You know everyone in this town,” he said as he watched the groom muck out a stall.

  “Aye, sir, born an raised round these parts,” the groomsman said without pausing in his work. He knew the Major expected his servants to work, even if he was talking to them. “Who then is Mary Pickersgill? I’ve heard the name, but can’t recall anything more.”

  “Sir, she’s the flag and colors maker on Abmorale and Queen Street. Sir, she does fine work she does. Most her work is for the captains of the ships at the docks. Some of the military use her too. She’s a widow’r lady.”

  Major Rivers nodded as he walked back to the house. Now he knew who Grace was. The little young thing who delivered the flag. The one he’d enjoyed at the fort. So his son did indeed have a colored mother. Well, there was nothing in his son but pure Rivers. If he needed to take care of Grace to keep it that way, he would. Major Rivers took a ride by Mary’s house. He saw the house on a busy street. He saw some women sewing in the front room through the window, but none who weren’t white. Well, she must be there, in the back or out running errands. He would keep his eyes open and wait for the right the time. Grace wasn’t going anywhere.

  ***

  That morning when Grace got up, she knew exactly what she needed to do. Mrs. Louisa was right. She did need the star. She sat down at the desk, pulled out her writing paper, got her quill ready, and began to write.

  June 13th, 1819

  If you be finding this I’s be dead. Mrs. Louisa Armistead my dear friend from the day I delivered the flag at Fort McHenry for Mrs. Mary Pickersgill may bear witness to the date. July 19, 1813. Major Stanton Rivers used me most awful against my will. I gave birth to his son, Stanton the Second. who he rightly named. I’s could not raise the boy as he comes out white as has been known to happens in the south. I gaves the baby to the birthin woman Mrs. Tommie Lynn to gives him. This last week I seen him walk out her house in the night. I knows he the one who kilt her. I’m afeared Mrs. Tommie Lynn must a said she tell his secret. I hide this letter sos I safe. He took my boy, hads to. No one let me raise a white boy. If I dies natural, Mrs. Louisa Armistead kep the secret. They good Christian folk. The best I ever knowd.

  Grace Wisher

  If he kilt me an the truths come out, please tell my son I loved him with all my heart an pray for his peace an happiness every day.

  She took the letter and the star, placed them in a basket, and went right down to the kitchen where she found Bethany.

  “Mrs. Bethany, I needs to go out, I have something I have to do. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  “Well, you look better this
morning.”

  “I am. I know what I can do to feel safe. I’ll be back, soons I can.”

  Grace headed out the door, to Claggett’s. She might not be smart, but she had a plan. Grace wanted to live long enough to see her son grow up and have babies. Grace did not want to hurt Major Rivers, but she did not want to be killed by him either. She had a plan that should keep her and their secret safe. She knew that the boy was all he really cared about. She had sneaked peeks and seen how proud he was of his son and Grace was too. All she wanted to do was live in peace. But Major Rivers was a man made for war, made for violence. She had to let him know, if she died, the secret would come out and now she knew just how to do it.

  When she got to Claggett’s the head man was there stacking a new delivery of hops and oats. “Mrs. Pickersgill, sent me, we might be needin’ to rent out the bottom room again. I needs to go down and see it and tells her what I see, if it’s still nice and dry an’ all.”

  “Sure Miss, just go on down and do what ya need. I’ll be busy here for awhile.”

  Grace didn’t feel bad about lying. Who knows? Maybe they would be needing it again. She walked around the big room. She went down to the wall, the one closest to the fort. Grace counted down the wall, thirteen blocks, then two up from the floor. She sat down on the ground and took the spike she brought with her from the yard out of the basket. She removed the tightly packed flag with the letter, and sat them next to her on the ground. Grace sat and started digging the stone block out. She put the basket under it to catch most of the falling mortar. She worked as fast as she could. Luckily, the mortar was soft and packed thick. Soon she was able to pry it out of place. Next she took the long sharp chicken knife they used to chop the heads off the chickens and dug the dirt behind the stone block out. This went even faster than Grace had expected. Earlier, she had wrapped the flag in oiled skins she took from the carriage, a piece they used to cover the luggage when they traveled. That would protect the star. Grace had put Louisa’s letter in the middle along with one she’d written herself. She took this bundle and put it in the hole. The hole wasn’t quite big enough so she pulled the bundle back out and sat and dug some more. This time when she placed it in, it fit. She opened the bag of powdered mortar they kept in the shed for minor repairs on the steps and the brick foundation. She took out the Missus’ travel canteen, poured the bag in a tin, then the water, and used the knife to stir it up.