It was well into the afternoon when we pulled off the road and stopped in front of Miss Elizabeth’s new place. She and her new husband, Mr. Tulley, had seen us coming up the road and were standing on their front porch, waiting to greet her momma and daddy. I remained seated with Barkley staring down at me while they visited for several minutes. Finally, Miss Elizabeth suggested they take their visit into the house, and Master Stewart slapped his hand against his thigh, signaling Barkley to jump down off the wagon. Barkley lit off the wagon immediately and made his way onto the porch. Master commanded Barkley to sit on the porch and asked Elizabeth’s new husband, “Do you have some water for my dog? He has been eating Ms. Stewart’s dust the whole five miles.”
Mr. Tulley quickly ordered his slave standing at the door to get the dog a fresh bowl of water while Mr. Tulley escorted his visitors into the house. I, on the other hand, remained seated in the wagon in the full sun because I had not been ordered out of the wagon. Besides that, Barkley was still staring at me.
Finally, the same slave who had brought Barkley his water came back out and ordered me to follow him. Barkley sat up as I climbed down out of the wagon, but he did not move. Only then did I see Master Stewart standing at the window. I heard a tap, and Barkley turned to see where the tap was coming from. Master Stewart pushed his hand down, commanding Barkley to lie back down.
Relieved, I made my way to the back of the house and quickly caught up with the other slave. I desperately wanted a drink of water but did not dare open my mouth. Momma had warned me to remember my place. “Ruby, until you know your way around that new place, you keep your wits about you. You make one of Master Tulley’s slaves mad at you, and they can make your life hell. Every one of them is scared of new slaves coming in. They won’t trust you, so you give them no reason to worry. You understand me?”
You would think that all the slaves would have helped each other. We were all in the same situation, but I quickly learned why it was not so. I was given my job to do, told where I was to sleep, and ordered not to make any trouble. One week later, Master Tully bought six new slaves from the auction house for Ms. Elizabeth. He had been married before, and his first wife had trouble having children. According to the cook, she had lost three in three years before dying with the last one. After that, the Master sold off all but three of the house slaves and lived like a bachelor for about eight years before deciding to try again. Mr. Tully was almost twenty years Ms. Elizabeth’s senior, and he wanted to make her happy and impress her. Happy, for Miss Elizabeth, was having as many servants as her mother had, so off to the auction he went.
We all waited to see just who he would bring back. The cook lamented, “It is dangerous to bring in six at once. We can’t control that many all at the same time.” I didn’t understand what she meant because in my whole life at home, we had never had a new slave in the house, but I soon learned.
Clifford was the head slave, and he took his job very seriously. He lined all six up in a row and gave them the same talk he had given me on my first day. I watched as five of them nodded their heads in agreement, but one of them stood there filled with anger. We all knew she was going to be trouble. Clifford stood right in front of her as he shoved his finger right into her chest and said, “You think you going to make trouble here? I don’t care where you been or what’s happened to you. You get that look off your face, and you do what you are told to do. You hear me?”
That girl named Tyri simply stared back at him. I remember thinking, “She is going to get in trouble.” What I didn’t yet understand was the way Mr. Clifford got his way when one slave misbehaved, we all paid. It was his way of breaking someone. He was not about to lose his position in the house because he could not control his help. I learned very early on that Mr. Clifford was someone I needed to fear. He had lots of power, and he used it that first day. Standing right in front of Tyri, he ordered, “Since Tyri thinks she can stand here in my kitchen and sulk at me, none of you gets supper tonight. You can all thank Tyri for that.”
I would not have liked to be Tyri that night. We all worked hard all day—every day. Going without supper meant a long night of pain, and Tyri was going to feel every bit of it from the older slaves who were being punished because of her. I just climbed into my bed and tried to sleep. My momma’s warning to me to keep to myself and stay out of trouble was good advice that night. I pulled the cover up over my head and heard the others pounding on Tyri for a long time.
The next morning when Mr. Clifford made us all stand at attention in the kitchen before getting our breakfast, Tyri could hardly stand up straight. She no longer had that look of rebellion on her face. Lesson meted out and learned; breakfast was served.
I quickly got into my routine. I did my job and stayed to myself. Soon we learned that Miss Elizabeth was going to have a baby. We didn’t learn it until she was well on her way, and no one could miss the fact by looking at her. When she was far enough along to make Master Tulley relax, he gave us all a big party—not the field hands—only the house slaves. We were given one afternoon off and all the treats we could eat. Some of us ate more sweets than we had ever had and I got sick, but it was worth it. That evening Master Tulley stood on his front porch and told us he was going to have a pig feast for us one week after this baby arrived. Two months later, young Master David was born, and Master Tully kept his promise.
One year later baby Charlotte arrived, but there were no treats or afternoons off. Talk of war was all around, and no one was feeling festive. Miss Charlotte was not yet one when Master Tulley was called up for duty. Everyone knew it would only be a matter of time before all able-bodied white men would be called up. Fearing being in the house without her husband, Miss Elizabeth sent for her mother. Only after Ms. Victoria’s arrival did I learn that Master Stewart had also been called into service to protect the South. I was not told; I overheard them talking. I so wanted to ask about Momma, Samuel, and Sister, but I knew better. For months Ms. Victoria stayed with us, seldom taking a day away to check on things at home. I tried to read her face whenever she returned, but Ms. Victoria was hard to read.
During all these months without Master Tulley around, most of the younger slaves had run off. Some were brought back by marauders. These men expected to get paid for returning runaways, but Ms. Elizabeth had no money to pay them. After ransacking the house for supplies, these men would take the runaways with them, hoping to sell them to another plantation. Someone was always willing to buy—if the price was right.
Ms. Elizabeth began to fear the marauders as much as the slaves. She had heard that sometimes they took their pay in services. This news scared them to death. Both of these women were beautiful, and both were used to being treated well. Finally, Ms. Elizabeth made the decision to take her children and her momma and return home. The Stewart house was much further off the main road, and she believed they would be safer there. The night before they were to leave, she had two wagons loaded with her favorite furniture pieces, as well as all of the remaining supplies. Only then did she tell us her intentions. She wrote hasty notes of emancipation for the remaining slaves—all except me. I was going back home with them—but not because they cared that I might again see my family. My job was to care for young Master David and Miss Charlotte. That day I didn’t care why; I was just happy to be going back home.
The next morning Ms. Elizabeth handed out the emancipation letters, full-well knowing that the marauders would not care about a silly letter written and signed by a woman. She sent them off with not so much as a pitcher of water or a sack of food, but off they ran, feeling free for as long as it lasted.
Ms. Victoria had spent the first year and a half of the war at her daughter’s house. Master Stewart had been called up for duty, and she did not want to stay home alone. Soon after, Master Tulley was also called up for service. At first, the women did fairly well at Ms. Elizabeth’s because Master Tulley had a good strong manager running the place. Tulley thought they would be okay because his manager, S
cotty McBride, was from Scotland. Being a foreigner and blind in one eye, he would not be pressed into service. But as the situation became more and more unstable, McBride decided he would be better off heading out West. After all, he did not have a dog in this fight, so why should he suffer to keep these women safe? Once he was gone, Ms. Elizabeth began to fall apart, so they decided to go back home to the plantation.
I was twelve years old when we headed back, and I just hoped my momma, my brother and my sister would still be there.
Tobias smiled as he sat on the train, remembering how great a storyteller his Auntie Ruby was. Even all of these years later, he was tempted to ask the same question his young heart asked that terrible day they were in hiding, and he had heard this same story.
“Were they, Ms. Ruby? Was Grandpa Samuel still there when you got there?”
“Yes, they were, Toby, but that story must wait until tomorrow. It is time for bed.”
“Ms. Ruby, you were sent away from your momma—just like I was sent away from my grandpa. I guess that is why you understood how I felt that first night I got here. You understand what it feels like to be alone.”
CHAPTER 15
Pearl Remembers Back at the Stewart Plantation
AFTER BREAKFAST ON the fourth day of the riots, Ms. Pearl continued the story.
The story was different at the Stewart Plantation. Once we got rid of Mr. Brown, Samuel brought all of the remaining slaves to the big tree at the end of the garden. He hauled four buckets of cold water, gave each slave his own jar of cool canned peaches, and Momma brought out a roasted potato for each one. Momma warned us not to tell the other slaves that we had more. She explained, “They will eat until they can’t eat no more. Best if they think this was the last of it, Samuel.”
After we were all fed, Samuel explained his plan. “Old Luther and I will go out early every morning and see if we can catch either a few rabbits or fish. We all have to be careful. Marauders are everywhere. With most of the owners gone to war, lots of slaves are on the run. The marauders have been hired by the wealthiest owners to catch runaway slaves and bring them in. These owners are hoping the war will be short, so they hope to double their investment.”
Samuel also warned, “We need to work this place as if a white man is running it. If we don’t, these marauders will take all of us and sell us for whatever they can get, and we will be the worse for it. We also need to find a safe place to store the crops that will keep. We have had three different groups of marauders come through, and they took everything with them. We will not make it if we don’t protect what is ours. I don’t think they are interested in going into the garden and picking their own supply. They only want to take our supplies. The twenty of us will need to work together.”
I was so proud of my big brother. After everyone else went back to the field cabins, Samuel stayed and talked with Momma and me. “Okay, Momma, where did you get all those peaches? The war has been going on for three years, and one year has passed since any peaches have been canned. Supplies have been so low, every peach that was picked was eaten.”
Momma and I smiled at him, and Momma said proudly, “Come with us, Samuel. Before the new kitchen wing was added to the house, do you remember the root cellar that was just outside the back door? Master Stewart had a new cellar dug out by the new canning shed. The old cellar was covered over by the new addition, but they put a trap door in the new dry goods room; that was the room that became my bedroom. The trap door is under my bed. During every canning season, Pearl and I would take as many jars of canned green beans, corn, squash, and peaches—whatever we were canning, and we slipped down into our dry cellar and stored them away. We have been doing this for three years. I found out that if we stacked them upside down, the jars would not dry out the seals. If we packed them in hay to keep them really cool, they last a long time. I’m sorry there is no meat, but at least we will not starve.”
For the rest of the war, we got by. We all got sick of having only vegetables to eat, but Samuel was a good rabbit hunter. Once or twice a week, we added rabbit to our stew. We were determined to keep our storehouse a secret from everyone.
One day, we got word that Ms. Victoria and Ms. Elizabeth were coming back home. Ms. Elizabeth’s home was right on the main road, and they no longer felt safe. We were ordered to remove all the boards from the upstairs windows and get the house cleaned.
I was really angry with Momma that day. Momma was so happy that Ms. Victoria was coming home. I just did not understand her. Ms. Victoria had gone off without a single care about any of us. For all she knew, we were all dead of starvation—or worse. Then, I thought that maybe Momma was happy because Ruby was coming home, so I asked her. No, she hadn’t even thought about that. I stood there staring at Momma, trying to understand why she was so loyal to someone who did not care about her.
Samuel and I warned Momma not to tell Ms. Victoria about our secret cellar. We knew we couldn’t trust Momma if Ms. Victoria returned home hungry. Momma would do whatever was best for Ms. Victoria and her children, and now that we would have five more mouths to feed, it was a real burden on Brother Samuel. Although we worried about Momma’s telling our secret, she remained quiet.
As the garden began producing an overabundance of food, Momma fired up the canning shed and began collecting jars, getting them washed and ready. As long as Brother Samuel could keep food on the table, we were certain our secret would be safe. We divided the canned goods in two batches; half went to the dry goods shelves in the kitchen where everyone could see them. We all worried about marauders taking our supplies, but we needed to have a cover for the real supplies going down into our secret cellar. After a few weeks of everyone’s getting used to seeing us carrying the finished jars into the kitchen, they stopped watching us so closely.
Ruby’s pride at what her momma and sister had accomplished bubbled over. “Let me tell this part, Pearl. All day long Momma and Pearl worked in the hot canning shed. I would join them whenever young Master David and Miss. Charlotte were either sleeping or off walking with their mother. I would fill a basket with as many jars as I could carry, make my way to the kitchen and stack half the jars on the shelf before slipping into Momma’s bedroom and pushing the remaining jars far under her bed. We did not dare open the old root cellar door during the day for fear of being seen. Late at night, when we were sure everyone was fast asleep, Pearl, Momma, and I would pick up Momma’s bed and move it to the other side, pull up the trap door and Pearl would climb down into the cellar. Momma would hand the jars down, reminding Pearl to stack them upside down so they would last longer, and then pack them with hay. My job was to stand guard. In order to use up the older stock, we would always replace the newly canned jars from the kitchen with the older ones in the cellar. Pearl would pack them carefully before climbing back up into Momma’s bedroom. Only after we replaced everything just the way it had been did the three of us go to bed.
Taking back the story, Pearl continued. “Once we were in bed, I rolled over and told Sister my secret. Ruby, I found Samuel’s tin box. Momma has it hiding it down in the cellar. I was moving jars around, trying to make room for tomorrow’s batch, when my foot hit the edge of an old piece of shed planking. I carefully picked it up and saw the tin box still wrapped in that old burlap sack. The sack is so old, just touching it made it fall into dust. I quickly replaced the wood plank and returned to my job.”
I wanted to tell Brother I found it, but Sister said we must not let Momma know I saw it or she might find another hiding place and then we might never find it again.” With a twinkle in her eye, Pearl added, “That night Sister and I agreed to keep it our little secret.”
About the time the garden was slowing down, the orchards were ready to pick. Samuel and the other men picked peaches, pears, plums, and even pecans. We had not had flour or sugar for months, but when Ms. Elizabeth returned, she brought two big bags of each. The sugar was set aside to help with the canning. Momma would cut and stew all the fruit, adding just
enough sugar to preserve it, load up the jars and water bath them. Each evening, she would take just enough flour to make biscuits. Everyone was given half a biscuit, with a ladle of whatever fruit stew she was canning that day. We did not have enough flour to make bread. It would have gone too quickly, but no one complained. Everyone was quiet as they ate their biscuit and fruit; even young Master David and Miss. Charlotte.
Life went on like this for a long time. Ms. Victoria seldom received letters from Master Stewart, but when she did, she took to her bed for days. During these spells we worried about Momma’s telling our secret. Momma would do anything to cheer up Ms. Victoria. Thankfully, she never did, which amazed us all.
Ms. Elizabeth, on the other hand, became more and more demanding. She stormed around the house, shouting orders and throwing tantrums as if she was the only one going without. Even her children were not spared her wrath when she was in one of her moods. Ruby tried her best to keep Ms. Elizabeth calm and happy, but her attempts seldom worked.
One day, as Ms. Elizabeth descended the stairs, her hair completely undone and her dress unbuttoned, she began screaming for Ruby to come to her aid. “Ruby! Ruby, where are you? Why is the button missing on this dress? Ruby, where is my button box?”
As Ruby made her way to the front hall, Ms. Elizabeth let lose all her pent-up anger at going without for so many years. Hearing her screaming at Ruby the way she was, I quickly made my way to the front hall to see if I could do anything to protect my sister. Just as I reached the hallway, Ms. Elizabeth began crying and crumpled to the floor. I had feared she might slap Ruby and did not know what I would do, but I knew I was going to do something awful. Instead, I saw my sister bending over her, caressing her wild hair, and speaking softly to her. It was so like Ruby to do this, yet her nurturing this selfish woman made me mad. As Ruby gently helped her up and then helped her back to her room, I knew I had to go for a walk. I was right on the verge of throwing my own tantrum, but, oh, how our Momma would have come undone if I had.
Treasure in a Tin Box (Wall of Silence Book 1) Page 12
