by Ginny Dye
“Not to mention the cost of all the slaves going free,” another man said bitterly. “I figure it totals millions of dollars lost in capital investment.”
“What’s even worse is that the slaves don’t want to work on the plantations anymore,” another added.
“And we’ve lost more than thirty thousand men from North Carolina in the war,” another growled. “It’s even more who were severely wounded or disabled. They can’t go back to work.”
Janie frowned at those words, but the thought of all the women who had stepped up to support their families during the war and were even now continuing that role, made her feel stronger. Women everywhere were facing challenging times. Hiding in the dark, she straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin. Something had shifted in her that day. She would continue to let Clifford think he was controlling her, but the time would come when she would make her move. The plan was beginning to take shape in her mind.
“We’re the only ones who can fix things in our state,” Clifford said. “We can continue to growl about what has happened, or we can start changing things.”
Janie pursed her lips. She agreed with Clifford’s words, but she was quite sure his intention was completely different from any she felt.
“Our political system is in a shambles,” Clifford continued. “Both the state and local governments collapsed this year.”
“We know all that,” one man interrupted. “I thought you said you had news for us?” he asked impatiently.
Janie smiled, imagining the look of fury in Clifford’s eyes at the interruption, but she also knew his ability to hide his feelings when he found it advantageous.
“So I did,” Clifford said smoothly, just a hint of frost in his voice. “We all know General Sherman left General Schofield in charge of the state when our troops surrendered a month ago.” He paused for a moment for dramatic effect before he finished. “That all changed today. President Johnson issued two proclamations. I received notice just as I was leaving my office.”
Janie leaned forward.
“The first one Johnson issued is the Amnesty Proclamation. He has offered a pardon to all Southerners, except those in positions of leadership and extreme wealth. They have to swear an oath of loyalty to the United States and the constitution. In return, they will retain all their property except for the slaves.”
“And for those of us who retain any leadership or wealth? What about us? I thought Lincoln’s plan was to include everyone.”
“It was,” Clifford responded. “Our new President Johnson is a lifelong supporter of small farmers and the lower classes in general. He decided to specifically exclude the wealthy classes from the proclamation.”
Janie could hear his voice tighten in frustration. Clifford was not wealthy, but she could tell by his voice that he had been excluded from amnesty.
“The president’s idea of wealth is quite different from mine,” Clifford continued. “Anyone who has taxable property over twenty thousand dollars is not included. There is another long list of exclusions that you can read about in the paper tomorrow, but everyone in this room has taxable property over that amount.”
One man snorted. “Perhaps before the war,” he protested. “It hardly has that value now.”
“According to the government it does,” Clifford responded. “Here’s where it gets ridiculous. If we want to be pardoned, we have to make a special application to President Johnson. If he chooses, he will pardon us.”
“For fighting for what was rightfully ours?” a man shouted angrily. “We may have lost this war, but that doesn’t mean we were wrong!”
“Perhaps,” Clifford said thoughtfully, “but I believe there is a part of Johnson that is trying to help us.”
“How do you figure that?” one asked bitterly.
“Because of the second proclamation,” Clifford replied. “Johnson has made William Holden the provisional governor of North Carolina.”
“How can that be good? Holden has been a Unionist all along. He’ll go along with whatever Johnson wants.”
“I hope so, because what Johnson wants is a state convention in the fall to restore North Carolina to the Union,” Clifford answered. “We’ll have to repeal the Ordinance of Secession and ratify the Thirteenth Amendment that made the slaves free.”
“What’s good about that? We all knew that has to happen.”
“Because the convention is going to provide for the election of a new governor, state legislature, and US congressman.” Clifford paused. “We will reestablish civil government in the state.”
A long silence fell on the room as the men pondered his words.
“You mean a civil government of our own choosing?” a man asked, his voice eager but disbelieving. “I didn’t think Congress was willing for that to happen until they had punished us long enough.”
“Congress isn’t in session,” Clifford said, rich satisfaction in his voice. “They won’t be again until December. My sources tell me President Johnson is moving quickly to create his own kind of reconstruction.”
“When is the convention?” another asked thoughtfully.
“It’s set to convene on October second,” Clifford responded.
Another silence fell on the room while Janie processed what she was hearing. What kind of man was President Johnson? She knew very little about him.
“We’ve got to move quickly,” Clifford said firmly, his voice ringing through the room. “This is our chance to create the North Carolina we all want to live in.”
“With the slaves all freed?” one man asked skeptically. “I never thought I’d live to see the day that Negroes are walking around the streets like they have a right to be there.”
“That’s why we have to move quickly,” Clifford said decisively. “The Negroes may be free, but they still live in the South. We’ve got to take control of the government so that we can take control of everything.”
Janie’s lips tightened. Clifford had changed from niggers to Negroes because he didn’t want to risk offending these important men, but she knew his heart was full of hatred.
“We’ve got until October to make sure the Democrats win all the seats and take the governorship,” Clifford continued.
“And which position are you running for?”
Janie listened carefully as the shrewd question hung on the air. All of the men listening to her husband were well aware he had brought them there to make an announcement.
“I’m running for a seat in the state legislature,” Clifford said confidently. “I believe I can win our district. I promise I’ll do everything I can to get the nigg—Negroes back out on the plantations so our economy can be revived.”
Janie’s mouth tightened, knowing what her life would be like if Clifford won that seat. She was already nothing more than a necessary prop to be treated with disdain and humiliation in private, while he pretended to treat her with respect when men came to the house.
“And then the Congress?” a man asked.
Janie could envision the flush of pleasure on Clifford’s face.
“If being in that position could improve our fine state, then I would be honored to be considered,” Clifford said carefully.
Janie held back her snort and decided it was time to disappear into the kitchen. If she were discovered listening, the rest of the men would simply be puzzled that she had an interest in political talk. Women were gaining more prominence in the North for speaking out about equal rights, but Southern gentlemen had absolutely no comprehension of why women would even want such a thing. In spite of the fact the war had destroyed the old Southern civilization, it hadn’t yet dawned on most of the men that it was women who had held the South together for four years, and that everything had changed now because women had changed how they saw themselves.
Clifford, on the other hand, would be furious if he found her skulking around. Janie held her breath as she slipped past the door soundlessly, not breathing easily again until she was perched on the steps of
the back porch. As she sat, she let the conversation run over in her mind. And she made plans.
******
“Still no word from Janie?” Aunt Abby asked.
Carrie shook her head, her green eyes worried. “No. I know mail service is not back to normal, but she’s been gone for almost two months. I’ve sent letters every week.” She took a deep breath and stared out over the pasture where Granite grazed, his sleek body no longer showing the years of deprivation. “I’m worried about her,” she admitted. “I just wish I knew what I could do.”
“Just be here when she needs you,” Aunt Abby said quietly.
Carrie searched her eyes. “You believe she’s in trouble?”
“I believe her life has become very difficult,” Aunt Abby said carefully. “I also know Janie is a strong and resourceful young woman. I saw that in spite of the brief time we had together.”
Carrie nodded and then her attention was diverted by a call. She shaded her eyes and looked down the road toward the fields. She grinned as she saw her father and Moses walking together, waving for her attention. “I don’t think I’ll ever take that sight for granted,” she said softly.
“As well you shouldn’t,” Aunt Abby agreed. “It’s taken hundreds of years and a disastrous war to make that happen. It should never be taken for granted.”
“By either blacks or whites,” Rose said, stepping out onto the porch. “Freedom is something that has to be cherished and built on.” She waved a hand at Moses. “It’s so easy for people to forget the price they paid for something. It’s also easy to forget what freedom is.”
“And what is it?” Aunt Abby asked.
Rose closed her eyes for a moment and then gazed directly into Aunt Abby’s. “Freedom isn’t just casting off the chains of slavery. It’s about living in a way that respects and enhances the freedom of others,” she said thoughtfully. “I believe that being free makes me morally responsible for everything I do.”
Carrie laid her hand on Rose’s arm. “You’ve been doing some deep thinking.”
Rose nodded. “I’ll soon have my own school for free black children. I want to teach them more than how to read and write. I want to help teach them how to live, and I want them to become proud of who they are and where they have come from.”
“And you will,” Aunt Abby said firmly. She waved at Thomas and Moses. “Hello,” she called.
Carrie grinned as her father strode up the stairs, thrilled to see the flushed excitement on his tanned face. She had seen him come alive in the month since they had returned to the plantation. His blue eyes sparkled with life again and years seemed to have dropped away. He was up early every day, going out into the fields to work with the men. She would have been astonished if she hadn’t already seen the changes growing in her father during the years of the war. She knew he was determined to rebuild Cromwell Plantation.
“Hello,” Thomas called back. “The last field was planted today,” he announced proudly.
“Congratulations!” Aunt Abby cried.
“All in oats and wheat?” Carrie asked.
Thomas shook his head. “We decided to take a risk and plant fifty acres in tobacco. If we have an early frost this year, it will have been in vain,” he admitted with a casual shrug.
“But if we have a late frost,” Moses added, “we’ll be one of the few plantations who can take tobacco to market. The profit margin will be quite high,” he added. “The men were all willing to take a risk.”
Just then Annie walked out on the porch, her face streaked with flour. “You two need to get a move on,” she scolded. “Me, Opal, and Sadie done have dinner ready. Do you want it hot?” she demanded.
Moses chuckled. “Didn’t take you long to start getting real bossy, Mama,” he said teasingly.
“Didn’t take you long to forget I runs my own kitchen,” Annie retorted, her eyes gleaming with love and pride. “Ain’t no war gonna change that!”
Thomas chuckled and strode up the stairs. “We’ll be right in,” he promised.
Rose took Moses’s arm as he moved into the house. “I’m worried about Carrie,” she said softly when they got out of hearing range.
Moses glanced down sharply. “What’s wrong?”
“She seems to be giving up hope in Robert.” Rose paused. “I’m seeing the same look in her eyes that I saw when her mama laid up there in that very room and died.”
Moses frowned. “What can we do?”
“I don’t know,” Rose said helplessly. “Carrie is doing everything she knows to do, but Robert just lies there day after day.” She took a deep breath. “I’m angry at him,” she admitted. “I don’t think there is a thing still wrong with his body. He just seems to have given up on living. It’s not fair to Carrie.”
Moses gave her a thoughtful look. “You have no idea what he went through, Rose. Union soldiers certainly faced challenges, but we always had food and clothing. We were never cold. We were never without shelter. We never lived for months on green apples and raw corn. Battle was terrible, but I used to watch the Rebels and wonder how in the world they kept going.”
“Well, he needs to use some of that spirit now,” Rose retorted.
“I think Robert is just empty,” he said slowly. “I’ve seen it in the eyes of lots of other Rebel soldiers. The war is over, but they just can’t find a big enough reason to move beyond the darkness that is filling them. They’ve given up.”
“But we have to do something,” Rose pleaded. “I can’t stand seeing that look in Carrie’s eyes. She’s borne so many burdens for so long. She made sure we were free. She gave me back Jeremy. We have to do something.”
“I’ll do anything in the world for Carrie,” Moses said quietly. “You tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.”
Rose gripped his hand and nodded. “I know you will,” she said softly, “but that’s the problem. I have no idea of what we can do.”
“We’ll keep watching,” Moses promised. “If we think of something, we’ll do it.”
Rose nodded, her expression saying she was far from satisfied but also aware there was nothing else to be done. She decided to change the subject. “How are the houses coming?”
Moses smiled, his eyes bright with excitement. “They finished another one last night. They are tearing down three slave quarters for each house they are building. They’re simple, but they’re much better than anything they have ever lived in. In another month, they should have homes for everyone. Once they’re done, they’ll take a break and go back to the contraband camp for their families. It’s helped to know all of them are safe while they are building everything.”
Rose smiled. She had been down to the old quarters several days earlier and seen the tiny cabin her mother had lived in torn apart. She was quite sure Sarah was smiling with delight to see another relic of slavery demolished and used to build something better.
“Your mama and Sadie seem happy,” Rose said.
Moses smiled again. “They are,” he agreed. “Living in our old cabin is like living in a palace for them. Mama sings while she’s in the kitchen, and my sister Sadie has become good friends with Eddie’s daughter Sadie. Those two have become inseparable. I never thought I would see my little sister smile like that again,” he said softly.
“Sadie Lou is teaching Sadie how to read.”
“Sadie Lou?”
Rose smiled. “They decided having the same name was too confusing so they added on to Eddie’s daughter’s name.”
Moses nodded. “Sadie didn’t tell me she’s learning how to read.”
“She wants to surprise you,” Rose admitted. “So do me a favor and act surprised.”
Moses chuckled. “I promise. Right now I just want some of that food Mama was talking about.”
******
Carrie waited until dinner had been served before she cleared her throat. “I’d like to talk to all of you about something,” she said hesitantly. “Actually…” she swung her eyes to Moses. “I need to talk with j
ust Moses at first.”
The table fell silent. Everyone seemed to sense that whatever Carrie had to talk about was important.
Moses swung his gaze to Carrie. “What is it?”
“I wanted to ask you about the family that saved Robert after the battle at Antietam.”
“What do you want to know?”
Carrie felt a little foolish but desperation drove her. “Who were they?”
“Hasn’t Robert told you about them?”
“Yes,” Carrie admitted, “but I never learned where they live.”
Moses took a deep breath and gazed into her eyes. “Why are you asking, Carrie? Just tell me straight out.”
Chapter Nineteen
Carrie managed a small smile. “You could always see straight through me.” She sighed and squared her shoulders. “I want to go find them.”
“Gabe and Polly? Why?” Moses’s eyes were wide with surprise.
“Because they brought Robert back to life once before,” Carrie blurted, all her fears shining in her eyes. “Actually, I know it was little Amber that brought him back to life,” she corrected. She twisted the napkin in her hands, and looked around the table at everyone. “Robert is dying. I know the signs. Nothing I do reaches him. The darkness in his heart is swallowing him. I don’t want him to die,” she cried.
No one spoke for a long moment. Annie and Opal, bringing in a platter of cookies, remained frozen by the door to the kitchen.
“And you think Amber can help bring him back to life?” Aunt Abby asked gently.
“I don’t know,” Carrie whispered, tears welling in her eyes. She brushed them away impatiently. “But I don’t know anything else to try.” She gave a tiny moan. “I watched my mama die this way. If I have a chance to save Robert, I have to try.”
“I understand,” Aunt Abby replied.
“Do you? Do you really?” Carrie whispered. “You don’t think I’m crazy?”
“I think you’re a woman very much in love with her husband,” Aunt Abby replied firmly. “I believe Robert is a lucky man.”
