by Ginny Dye
Thomas paused, causing Carrie’s worry to deepen. “Father?”
“What will happen, will happen,” Thomas finally said with a casual shrug.
“What does that mean?” Carrie cried, suddenly frightened.
Thomas hesitated, exchanged a long look with Abby, and then sat down in the chair by the fireplace. “Richmond is a powder keg right now,” he said bluntly. “They are struggling to come back from financial ruin. At least half of the city is surviving because of federal support programs. The Freedmen’s Bureau is here to provide assistance and programs for the freed slaves, but that seems to be enraging the white population even more.”
“I think terrifying them is a better description,” Abby added quietly. “Their fear is making them angry. They can’t figure out a way to keep the blacks under control so their anger is growing. They feel they’ve lost total control of their lives, so they are lashing out at anyone they can lash out at.”
“But the army is here to keep control of things,” Carrie argued, hoping that meant protecting Abby and her father.
“Yes,” her father agreed calmly, “but they can’t be everywhere at once.”
Carrie saw the flash of anger on Abby’s face and turned questioning eyes toward her.
Abby hesitated and then began to speak. “The government seems to be overwhelmed as well,” she said quietly. “The soldiers are here to keep control, but too many of them don’t see the freed slaves as people who should have equal rights. They may not think they should be slaves, but they believe they have to stay in their place.”
Carrie sighed. “I thought the Freedmen’s Bureau was in place to make sure they were taken care of.”
“They are,” Abby agreed, “but there are over two million freed slaves and not nearly enough people in the Freedmen’s Bureau to take care of things. Things in Richmond are bad, but they are much better than in other parts of the country.”
Carrie sighed. “We simply don’t know what’s going on when we’re out on the plantation.”
“It’s probably a good thing,” her father replied ruefully.
“It might be more comfortable,” Robert agreed, “but it leaves us feeling rather out of the loop.”
Jeremy walked in just then. “What loop would you like to be in?” he asked as his face broke into a grin. “Welcome to Richmond!”
Warm hugs were exchanged. Jeremy glanced over his shoulder. “Matthew should be here any moment. I ran into him on his way from the train station, but he had a stop to make. He’ll be thrilled you’re here.”
May walked in with a plate of cookies. “I put some more chicken on to fry,” she said happily. “It sure is nice to have a full house again!”
******
“So you still haven’t told us why you’re here,” Abby said an hour later when dinner was finished.
“I need to find Dr. Wild,” Carrie said, her heart fluttering with excitement as she took another step toward turning her idea into reality. “I’m going to start a medical clinic.”
“That’s wonderful!” Abby cried. “I’m sure there is a story that goes with this decision.”
Carrie nodded, and told them about Joe, Abner, and Bobby. “I realize I’m not a doctor yet, but someone has to help them,” she said firmly. “Moses and the men are finishing the building this week. I’m hoping Dr. Wild is still here and that he can help me with supplies.”
“He’s still here,” Matthew said. “I interviewed him a week ago about the plight of veterans in the Confederacy.”
“Then you know how terrible it is,” Carrie said.
Matthew’s face darkened. “I do. The number of war casualties is far from being final. Men are dying every single day, and there will be many more that die in the years ahead. But that’s not all — there are many struggling with depression and alcohol addiction. They have lost everything, so their families are suffering as well.” He frowned. “It’s as big a problem for the North as it is for the South. There are benefits in place for Union soldiers, but the government is struggling to figure out how to handle so many men’s needs, as well as the families who have been left behind.”
“People in rural areas are suffering more,” Abby said. “They don’t have access to even the limited programs the cities have.” She smiled at Carrie. “Your clinic will help.”
Carrie sighed. “I hope so. I know it’s such a small drop in the bucket, but…”
“At least it’s a drop in the bucket,” Abby said firmly. “And it will mean everything to the men and the families you help.”
Carrie nodded. “I believe so. Janie is going to work with me, and Annie is going to help as well. We’ll do everything we can.” She turned to Matthew. “I told Rose and Moses we would bring back all the information we could about what is happening with the freed slave situation.”
Matthew stared at her and shook his head. “I’m afraid there is not much good news,” he said heavily. “There are certainly bright spots of hope, but they seem to be overwhelmed by the problems and the hatred.”
“But the Freedmen’s Bureau…” Carrie protested.
“Is so hampered in what they can actually do,” Matthew said. “Most of the people involved care deeply about the freed slaves, but their number is so limited.” He hesitated. “And there are some who seem to just be drawing a paycheck. They’re eager not to create waves and are letting the Southern states have their way.”
“Their way is to put freed men back into slavery!” Carrie said angrily.
“Something like it,” Matthew agreed. He looked at Thomas. “I took your advice and contacted Perry Appleton. I just got back from their home in Georgia.”
“Louisa Blackwell’s husband?” Carrie asked. “How are they? I haven’t heard from her in so long.”
Matthew frowned. “I’m afraid this has been a difficult year for them. They got through Sherman’s march through Georgia with their house intact, but everything else — all their cotton ginning equipment was destroyed. They kept their spirits up, believing a good crop of cotton from their neighbors would help them begin again, but the weather in the Deep South has been terrible, and the neighboring plantations are finding it difficult to hire labor to work the fields. The crop yields are not what anyone hoped for.”
Thomas frowned. “I didn’t realize. I haven’t kept track of much outside of Virginia. The weather here has been perfect this summer.”
“I’ve spent a lot of time the last few weeks with plantation owners,” Matthew revealed. “The ones who are left anyway.”
Thomas nodded. “I know many of them have walked away from their land because everything has been destroyed. Their houses and barns are gone, along with all their animals and their tools. They don’t have the heart to try again.”
“Tens of thousands of them,” Matthew agreed. “Some are leaving the country, while others are going north or heading out west to start over.”
“What is happening with their land?” Robert asked.
Matthew shrugged. “It depends on what day you are asking.” His eyes flashed angrily. “There have been a lot of promises made that I fear will never be kept.” He paused. “I’ll see if I can make sense of what is becoming an increasingly complicated situation. When we were at war, hundreds of thousands of acres of land was confiscated from its owners by the Union Army.”
“The plantations?” Jeremy asked.
Matthew nodded. “Yes. Most of them were very large plantations confiscated from owners who were financing the rebellion. During the last couple years of the war, and in the months since the war has ended, the lands have been given to freed slaves who have fought for their right to that land because it was their labor that built it.”
“Like down in the Sea Islands,” Carrie said. “I remember reading about it in a journal that came last month.”
“Yes,” Matthew replied. “When General Sherman took Savannah, he promised four hundred thousand acres of land to the ten thousand freed slaves who had followed the Union Army
across Georgia. Each of them got forty acres, and many of them got tools and a mule as well. They have worked hard and have created an independent community.” He stopped to gather his thoughts.
“I’ve heard great things about that community,” Abby said.
“They’ve done a remarkable job,” Matthew agreed. “I met with some of them while I was in Georgia. Unfortunately,” he said with a sigh, “everything is different now.”
“How?” Jeremy asked.
“Congress passed a law in March of this year that gave the Freedmen’s Bureau the mandate to redistribute these lands. Now this is where it becomes totally frustrating,” Matthew explained. “When President Johnson issued his amnesty proclamation in May, it included political immunity as well as return of confiscated property, but it did not include landowners with property worth more than twenty thousand dollars.”
“Which would be all the plantation owners,” Thomas observed. “I happen to be one of those, which makes me even more grateful Cromwell was not taken.”
“Yes,” Matthew replied. “After Johnson’s proclamation, the head of the Freedmen’s Bureau, General Howard, asked Attorney General James Speed how this affected the bureau’s mandate to distribute land to the freed slaves.” Matthew reached for his notebook and flipped through it until he found what he was looking for. “Howard got a response back in June. ‘The Bureau Commissioner has authority, under the direction of the President, to set apart for the use of loyal refugees and freedmen the lands in question; and he is required to assign to every male of that class of persons, not more than forty acres of such lands.’ ”
“That’s a bad thing?” Abby asked, confusion shadowing her eyes.
“Definitely not. General Howard acted quickly to make it happen. He ordered an inventory of lands available for redistribution and resisted the plantation owners’ attempts to reclaim property. Until very recently, the Freedmen’s Bureau controlled eight to nine hundred thousand acres of plantation lands previously belonging to slave owners. Then he created a directive within the bureau.”
“I believe that’s the Circular Thirteen I heard about,” Thomas said. “It raised quite an uproar here in Virginia.”
“I imagine it would have,” Matthew answered. “Based on the attorney general’s authorization, Circular Thirteen explicitly instructed bureau agents to prioritize the congressional mandate for land distribution over Johnston’s amnesty declaration. In the final section it was very clear. It said that the pardon of the president will not be understood to extend to the surrender of abandoned or confiscated property, which by law has been set apart for refugees and freedmen. General Howard made land distribution the official policy for the entire South.”
“I know that must be so difficult for the plantation owners,” Abby said sympathetically, “but it does seem a fair consequence to the war.” She reached over and squeezed Thomas’s hand. “I’m sorry, dear. I’m sure we disagree on that.”
Thomas sighed and shook his head. “I hate it,” he agreed, “but I also realize we lost this war, and it’s also true that something has to be done to help more than two million slaves that are not free. There are simply no easy answers.”
“It gets more confusing,” Matthew said wryly. “Right after General Howard issued Circular Thirteen, he went on vacation in Maine. While he was gone, our President Johnson began to counteract the order almost immediately by restoring land to an estate owner in Tennessee.”
“His home state,” Jeremy observed.
Matthew nodded. “It seems the president and the attorney general don’t see eye to eye. Two days ago, Circular Fifteen came out. It has Howard’s name on it, but my sources assure me it was written by Johnson himself.” He sighed. “The bottom line is that it was rewritten to support Johnson’s policy of land restoration. In many places it has ended the policy of land redistribution entirely.”
“What does that mean exactly?” Abby asked slowly.
“Like I said, it depends on what day you are asking,” Matthew answered, “but right now it means that our president is going to go back on all the promises made to the freedmen. Most of the lands are held by freed slaves down in Georgia. My understanding is that they will be able to harvest their crops, but then they must relinquish their right to the land because the government will give it back to the original owners. They must either agree to work for the former owners, or be evicted.”
“They can do that?” Carrie asked in a shocked tone. “Give it to them and then just take it back?”
“It seems our President Johnson does whatever he wants,” Matthew answered.
“What about the Congress?” Jeremy asked.
“Until they come back into session in January, their hands are tied,” Matthew said wearily. “Many of them are out of their minds with rage and worry, but Johnson is using this time to press his agenda as strongly as he can.”
Abby frowned. “Doesn’t he realize his agenda will be overthrown once Congress is back in session? I cannot imagine them letting this continue. There are too many congressmen who fought for the slaves. They’re not just going to sit back.”
Matthew shrugged again. “I wish I could sit inside our president’s head for a day. Perhaps then I could understand him. Unfortunately, I can’t. And whether his agenda is overturned in four months or not, it will have already done a tremendous amount of damage. President Johnson is no friend of the black person, and based on what I’m seeing, I don’t believe he is a friend of the United States either. I’m afraid his actions are going to reverberate through history for generations to come.”
A heavy silence fell on the room.
“At least things are a little better here in Richmond for the freed slaves,” Jeremy said, finally breaking the silence.
Carrie looked up, almost desperate for words of hope. “How?”
“You heard about blacks being deported out of the city and of all the vagrancy laws?” Jeremy asked.
Carrie nodded, feeling her anger rise again.
“Over three thousand blacks filled The First African Baptist church here in the city back in June to approve a formal complaint to the president. Then several of them wrote a letter to the New York Tribune.” Jeremy reached down beside him. “I have a copy of the paper here.” He flipped pages until he found what he was looking for. “Here it is. In part of the letter they complain of the ‘mounted patrol, with their sabers drawn, whose business is the hunting of colored people.’ ” He put the paper aside. “You can read it all later. The most important part is that the letter and the formal complaint drawn up at the church were delivered to President Johnson by a delegation headed by Fields Cook.”
Carrie looked thoughtful. “I know that name. Isn’t he a black barber in town?”
“Yes,” Jeremy replied. “He’s also a local church leader. He has gotten very involved in politics here in Richmond.”
“You said it helped?” Robert asked.
Jeremy nodded. “The complaint was part of the reason General Ord was replaced as the head of the Army of Occupation here in Richmond. General Alfred Terry, who took his place, struck down the city’s discriminatory vagrancy laws and announced the army would treat all inhabitants as equal before the law. Then Secretary of War Stanton stepped up in July and instructed Southern commanders to discontinue pass requirements and forbade the army to hinder blacks’ freedom of movement.”
“That’s wonderful!” Carrie exclaimed. “At least something positive is happening.” She paused when she looked closely at Jeremy’s face. “Tell me the rest,” she said quietly.
Jeremy sighed. “Those are indeed positive steps, but I’m afraid it doesn’t change the basic assumption underpinning military policy.”
“And that would be?” Robert asked.
“The Freedmen’s Bureau believes that the interests of the South, the nation, and the freedmen themselves would best be served by all the freed slaves going back to plantation labor. They can be free, but they belong on the plantations.”
“Even if they don’t want to be?” Carrie asked. “And even if the plantation owners don’t pay them correctly or if they abuse them?” She was remembering everything Janie had told her. “How is that any different from slavery?”
“It’s not,” Jeremy said flatly. “It’s also not easy to come up with answers.”
“And you see it from both perspectives?” Matthew asked.
“I do,” Jeremy responded. “I have tremendous empathy for the slaves because of my heritage and because of how wrongly they have been treated. I also understand the financial ramifications of what will happen if labor can’t be found for two million freed slaves, or what will happen if Southern agriculture completely falls apart.”
“The freed slaves don’t want to work on the plantations anymore?” Robert asked. “Not even if they are receiving wages?”
“If only it were that cut and dry,” Jeremy responded. “I’ve talked to so many of the freed slaves since I’ve been back in the city. From everything I have learned, I don’t believe they are against working. The plantation owners are saying the blacks are lazy and must be made to work like they were in slavery.”
“With overseers and whips,” Carrie said with a scowl.
Jeremy nodded. “That’s their basic belief,” he agreed. “The owners want things to pretty much remain the same, and the freed slaves are not willing for that to happen. They are demanding to receive fair pay, and they want the freedom to come and go. If they think they are being treated unfairly, they just walk away.”
“Seems reasonable,” Aunt Abby said, her eyes flashing.
“It is,” Jeremy agreed again. “The problem is that most of the plantation owners don’t have anything to pay them, and they are terrified of losing control, so they are reverting back to their old ways.”
“Like in Louisiana and Texas where they are murdering blacks in order to scare them into compliance,” Carrie said bitterly.
Jeremy nodded heavily. “I wish every plantation owner was like Thomas. If they would treat the workers with respect and share the profits of the harvest with them, everyone could be satisfied. I also believe that in the end, everyone would make more money — even the plantation owners — because their productivity would be so much higher.”
