“Ain’t got none,” I tells her. “Lost them expectations long time ago.”
Her little face thoughtful. “You’re joking?”
Partly I am but ain’t gonna confess it.
“I should be very unhappy, without the very highest expectations. Can’t we at least hope for the best?”
She am so earnest I can’t help answerin’ true. “Most times things don’t turn out like we hopes.”
“That’s so,” she say. “But as St. Paul writes, ‘For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory; while we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen: for the things which are seen are temporal; but the things which are not seen are eternal.’”
“Mmmm,” I say. “We ‘temporal’ for sure.”
Miss Melanie smile brighten that kitchen like sun walk in the door. I smiles—can’t help myself. Cook grinnin’ too.
“With hope for eternity.” Miss Melanie take my cookie tray. “When we will again be with those we love.”
Miss Melanie done lost her Momma and her Papa. She and her brother, Charles, they orphan child. Orphan child know all they is to know ’bout “temporal.”
Miss Melanie serve Miss Ellen first, then Miss Pittypat. Then she serve the younguns. She carry cookies onto the porch for the gentlemens afore she serve her brother, Charles, and take just one cookie for herself.
Miss Melanie Hamilton, she got deportment!
John Brown or no John Brown, we gots harvest the cotton, and Tara hands pickin’ soon as dew off the bolls. Master Gerald, he ridin’ from field to press and back, assurin’ heself things done right. When ain’t got enough hands, he climb off he horse and pickin’ heself!
There am three new babies in the Quarters, and Miss Ellen and me busy with ’em atop arything else we gots do. Toby drive Miss Carreen and Suellen to Twelve Oaks every morning get tutored with Miss India and Miss Honey. Master Ashley turn library into schoolroom.
Miss Ellen gets letter from Miss Pauline sayin’ Nehemiah have passed. Miss Ellen hand shake and she cryin’. Savannah Gazette tell how Nehemiah were the best-regarded free-colored businessman in the city.
Nehemiah die without never jump no broomstick with nobody. I don’t like think ’bout that so I don’t. I wonder if he have ary brothers or sisters. He never say nothin’ ’bout none.
Miss Scarlett back at the Female Academy, where all them boys makin’ nuisances of theyselfs.
Second of December Master John Brown gets hanged. Miss Scarlett say, “Brown was good enough to ruin my birthday; I’m so grateful he didn’t spoil Christmas.”
That year Tara have one of those newfangled Christmas trees in the drawing room. I don’t understand what cedar tree have to do with Baby Jesus, but white folks favors ’em. First Twelve Oaks have a ball, then Tara have a ball, then Fairhill ball, but some folks don’t go to Fairhill ’count Master Jim bein’ for the Union. Miss Scarlett don’t go ’count of Miss Beatrice still mad at her ’bout Beelzebub.
We Be Seceded
I DONE LOST most them I loved, and most my beloveds die ugly.
Storm of war roarin’ down on Tara like a ravin’ lion and I get to rememberin’. I couldn’t help myself! I hates close my eyes. Night after night I recallin’ that wove basket which were too big for the manioc but we didn’t have no other. I’d hide inside pretendin’ nobody could see me, and I guess that were true, ’count they never see me when they come.
I’d hide in that basket. “Ki kote pitit-la?—Oh, where is that child!” Momma’d sing, and I’d cover my mouth to not be gigglin’.
Planters ain’t hardly talkin’ ’bout the weather no more, nor what cotton fetchin’. They talkin’ ’bout who wants be President and what Congress doin’ and suchlike. When planters ain’t cussin’ weather or crop prices, somethin’ terrible wrong.
All they lives they been plantin’ and hoein’ and tendin’ and worryin’. Livin’ so slow you could hardly see no changin’. No more. Things movin’ faster than Atlanta locomotive! That spring Democratic party splits in two and the Constitution Union party gets up and runnin’, and some Masters be for one and some for t’other.
Fourth of July, all us go into Jonesboro for Congressman Stephens speechifyin’. Miss Ellen don’t want go, but Master Gerald says Master John Wilkes be on the platform with Stephens and white trash might get rowdy and Master John needin’ all the friends he got.
Pork tell me Master Gerald got two pistols in he coat, but I’ze not to tell Miss Ellen nor the girls. Pork, he don’t come. Pork say coloreds got no place in Masters’ quarrel.
Jonesboro am red, white, and blue banners and buntings everywhere you look. Over the tracks under shade trees am a platform with more buntings where Master John Wilkes and Master Jim Tarleton talkin’ with somebody so small he like little boy in he Poppa’s suit. Little man pale like he been dead since yesterday, but he talkin’ hot and clampin’ Master Jim’s arm so fierce he coat dented. Reckon that man Master Stephens.
White mens holdin’ for secession with they friends east of the depot, and them which is for the Union to the west. Older Tarleton boys near their Papa. Boyd carryin’ one of them leaded canes, and Tom have he hand in he pocket. Raif and Cade Calvert not four feet away. Calvert boys’ Momma, she Yankee.
Miss Ellen talkin’ to Mistress Calvert ’count nobody else will.
It July hot. Ladies shadowed under silk parasols. They wavin’ palmetto fans.
Tarleton twins, Stuart and Brent, payin’ politics no nevermind. They off under a shade tree sparkin’ India Wilkes.
It gettin’ on to noon and men be grumblin’, which stop when whiskey casks arrive. I figure they purposed slow. Whites and whiskey don’t go good together.
I on depot platform far from the crowd. Master John’s body servant, Mose, the only other colored.
“What you make of this, Mammy?”
“I thinkin’ we ain’t where we ought be.”
Shout at the whiskey keg done for us. We slip inside depot, where we can see through window but ain’t easy seen.
Timetable next ticket window. Mose can read a mite and tells me Jonesboro got six trains goin’ south and eight trains comin’ north every day ’cept Sunday. I say I don’t need know how read know that. Mose say two more goin’ north than comin’ south, so one day the South gonna run out of trains. I don’t know nothin’ ’bout no trains. “See Miss Scarlett,” I say. “See how she strollin’ at them Tarleton twins, like she got nothin’ on her mind. Nice day take a stroll. ‘Why, hello, Stuart! Hello, Brent! Fancy meetin’ you here’!”
Mose say, “Miss Beatrice say Miss Scarlett am a—”
“I know what Miss Beatrice say,” I say. “Arybody know.”
Although Master John Wilkes favor stayin’ in the Union, nobody mad at him ’count Master John all the time readin’ books and plantin’ he cotton late. But folks distress Master Jim Tarleton for the Union ’count he rich and he hunt and he gamble and he gallop ’round and he drink and he cotton fetch top price. Since Master Jim favor the Union, might be they catch favorin’ it too like childrens catchin’ measles?
This rally for Union, but most everybody come here is for secedin’ from the Union, which is why the whiskey slow gettin’ here. Master Jim, he hold he hands up and everybody quieten ’cept them what ain’t got they cup filled yet.
He introduce the skimpy man who am Congressman Stephens like I thought. Master Jim say Master Stephens a very great Georgia white man ’count what he am and what he done.
I can see from India Wilkes’s homely face, Miss Scarlett has made her move on them Tarleton twins. Them boys gapin’ like babes what lost they nipple.
Folks give Master Stephens some clapping and some boos. He voice bigger’n he, and far away as we is, I hears ary word.
“O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, how did thou killest the prophets and stonest those that are sent to thee . . .” which shuts up booin’ ’count Stephens make it so cussin’ him might be cussin’ God. He don’t stay biblical long but get right to the point everybody fussed ’bout: “Shall the people of Georgia secede from the Union if Mr. Lincoln is elected to the Presidency of the United States? My countrymen, I tell you frankly, candidly, and earnestly, that I do not think that they ought.”
God or no God, that draws boos. Men at whiskey wagon particular strong booers.
Master Stephens says planters prospered “in spite of the general government.” But he say ’thout that government they not doin’ so good as they done. He calculate property in Georgia is worth twict what it been ten years ago ’count of that government. I wonders is me and Mose counted in that property?
Folks hear Master Stephens respectful, but they cheer when he finish he speech sayin’ if Georgia do secede, he secede with her. “Their cause is my cause, and their destiny is my destiny; and I trust this will be the ultimate course of all.” Everybody clap till they hands hurt, them Tarleton and Calvert boys too. Them boys never seen blood drippin’ through a manioc basket.
* * *
We enjoys a fine slow fall. Them leaves turn blood bright and yellow gold to remind us what we stands to lose. Lincoln elected, and them which was for stayin’ in the Union start talkin’ secession and them Unionists which hasn’t changed, quieter what they been.
After Miss Scarlett finish at Female Academy she come home to Tara. When it mild, Miss Scarlett ride out with Mister Ashley, and when it cold or blowin’ they in Twelve Oaks library. Miss Scarlett don’t know nothin’ ’bout no paintings nor Europe countries and don’t care to read no books, so I guess she mostly listen. Might be Master Ashley deportment rubs off.
Up-country Christmas balls ain’t Savannah, but this year they grand as can be. All the plantation house gots one of them newfangled trees. Munroe tree catch fire but they puts it out. Hetty Tarleton gown get too near fireplace and lit afire, but she Papa and Master Jim rolls Miss Hetty on floor and puts fire out afore she burnt up. Ashley Wilkes tells Miss Ellen Tara ball grand as any he gets to in Europe. I reckon Europe ain’t so grand as Savannah.
Miss Scarlett cuttin’ a swath through young gentlemen like they ripe wheat. Cade Calvert, he so shy he stutters when he try talk to her, so he ride over to leave a flower on Miss Scarlett porch chair. Come every morning to leave one flower. Most times when he leave his flower, yesterday flower just where he set it down, so he exchange old flower for new one. When there ain’t no flowers flowerin’, he leave bunches of winter berries, serviceberry, and bird cherry.
South Carolina done secede from the Union, so Georgia want secede too and they call out the legislature figure how. Master Jim Tarleton go to legislature, and oldest sons, Boyd and Tom, goin’ with him. Master Jim say they “witness history.”
After legislature vote leave the Union, county planters starts up a militia. They want call they militia somethin’ strong, like Clayton Grays or Inland Rifles or Rough and Readies. Missus Calvert sews a flag which has got a cotton boll and “Clayton County Volunteers,” but some militia don’t grow cotton and Missus Calvert a Yankee, so they thanks her and calls they troop the Troop, which is what they been callin’ it all along. Ashley Wilkes, he captain, and Raiford Calvert be lieutenant. They run out of gentlemens afore they got enough troopers, so them nongentlemens what can’t afford horses is give horses by them what can. When Miss Beatrice gives her horses, she say she want ’em back sound as they been. Everybody figure to fight one battle, Yankees run away, and Georgia be seceded.
When the Troop drill on the Jonesboro racecourse, a-laughin’ and wavin’ they swords, mist hang about them so thick I ain’t sure they in this world or one foot in the next. Laughin’ boys, sad boys, high-spirit boys, sour boys, brave boys, and affrighted, mist cover all same.
Yesterweek, Dilcey comin’ home in Master John’s coach from Slatterys’, where Miss Slattery gonna have baby. Storm thunderin’ and lightnin’ and rain pour down, and when Dilcey look out coach window she see horse legs alongside. How big is horse with legs high as coach window? Dilcey close her eyes shut. When she ask Jincy, he ain’t seed nothin’.
Some nights, them four horsemen am comin’ so closeby Tara I hear they hoofbeats.
What it gonna be like lose everything? No Tara, no Twelve Oaks, no Jonesboro, no Atlanta, no railroad, no cotton fields, no milk cows, no chickens, no hogs, nothin’? How it gonna be when all them Up-country boys lyin’ beside the three Geralds?
I sit up mendin’ past midnight. Miss Ellen says mendin’s beneath me, that Rosa could do it. I don’t tells her I stayin’ awake ’count of manioc basket and my darlin’ Martine and poor Jehu, who got hanged for wantin’ hold his head high.
* * *
Everybody enjoyin’ them boys wavin’ swords in the air and men bowin’ to ladies and Tarleton twins racin’ up and down the racetrack and old Mr. MacRae, who fought in Mexican War, is tellin’ boys who never seed no war how bad it am which sound glorious. Can’t be too terrible for them! Master Ashley got a drill book he studying and he sayin’ commands and they slip they swords away and gets more or less lined side by side and when Captain Wilkes gives ’em a holler, they draws they swords at once and such a glitterin’ and screechin’ I never heard and never wants to hear no more.
Ary boy she lets be in love with her in love with Miss Scarlett.
Girls jealous. Honey and India Wilkes, Betty Tarleton, Sally Munroe—even Miss Scarlett’s own sisters jealous. Do Miss Scarlett fret? She do not. She bedazzle ary boy she want to, and before they done preenin’ she walkin’ off.
Miss Scarlett like thrush, so fixed on singin’ she don’t care who hear song. Maybe she don’t intend be triflin’ with them boys, but triflin’ what she do.
When Stuart Tarleton get throwed out of college, he tell Miss Scarlett he got throwed so he could be with her. Miss Scarlett pretends she believe him! She tell young Master Stuart he “musn’t throw your future away over me.”
Stuart say might be he ain’t got no future, not meanin’ it, the way boys don’t mean things, but sayin’ it to shine brighter in Miss Scarlett eyes.
Boys ain’t got no “hold up” nor “wait a spell.” They wants what they wants afore soon. Girl what got deportment can fend ’em off. Girl ain’t got deportment half-promise and wink till she get clear and they cools off. I don’t want know ’bout them boys’ night dreams.
The Troop drill twict a week, and after they done wavin’ they swords they gets up to Robertson Tavern ’count patriotism thirsty work.
Jeems with the Tarleton twins, like always. Jeems rapscallion. He got him a woman at Munroes’, and Tarletons’ Missy carryin’ he child. Jeems only colored ’lowed in Robertson’s when Troop congratulatin’ theyownselfs and bein’ fierce and drinkin’ and scarin’ Yankees if any happens in. Jeems know how fade away. He fade when he needin’ to.
Them boys drinkin’ and boastin’ ’bout what they gonna do to them Yankees until Cade Calvert says, “Yankees ain’t all bad. Some Yankees glad to see us secede.”
“Ain’t no good Yankees,” Stuart Tarleton say.
Cade’s Yankee stepmother and Stuart Tarleton’s Papa votin’ ’gainst secession means both boys got plenty to live down.
Cade Calvert been hearin’ ’bout his stepmother since he were small. Stuart been kicked out of two colleges and ’bout to be kicked out of third. “Let’s hope the Yankees are glad to see us go,” Cade Calvert say. “Good riddance.”
“What you mean by that?” Stuart Tarleton say.
“What’d you mean ‘What do I mean?’” Cade Calvert say. For good measure he say, “You redheaded son of a bitch.” He dip in he pocket. Turn out, he ain’t got nothin’ in that pocket but he pipe, which he gonna smoke, showin’ he contempt for Stuart Ta
rleton, but Stuart believe he reachin’ for pistol and pull he own, which shoot afore he got it proper pointed, so ball goes into Cade Calvert’s leg and Cade shout, “Damn,” and knocks over a table as he fall to the floor.
Young Doc Fontaine take over and cut away Cade pant leg to see what’s what, and Cade mad as a wet hen ’count them’s he uniform britches.
Bullet gone right through, didn’t hit no bone and Cade Calvert didn’t bleed to death, so arybody make a joke out of it.
White Masters likes to joke when they scared.
When Miss Scarlett hear ’bout it, she want know smallest detail until she learns they was fightin’ ’bout politics not ’bout her.
How I Meets the Hangman’s Son
UP-COUNTRY PRETTIEST PLACE Le Bon Dieu ever made. ’Taint Paradise, but it near as us sinners gonna get. Master Gerald got a big heart and Miss Ellen heart distract but she always tryin’ do what right. Miss Scarlett, she . . . who she am. Every girl child I ever know had a mite part of Miss Scarlett, but not one had every bit Miss Scarlett ’ceptin’ Miss Scarlett!
Morning of the Wilkeses’ barbecue all the clouds rolls away and everybody happy as can be! Big Sam, Teena, Rosa, Dilcey, and Cook already gone to Twelve Oaks helpin’ out. I gonna stay Tara with Miss Ellen but day too fine! Master Gerald drivin’ like he always do. Young folks lively. I never knowed ’em so lively. Oh, they was beautiful and fine. Young girls loves to love. Young girls same as music boxes, music boxes got no more say ’bout what music they play than young girls do.
Spicebush and redbud and crab apple and laurel and wild plum blossomin’, and as we goin’ down the road we drivin’ through spicebush smell then crab apple, then wild plum like overhearin’ smidgens of talk in French then Creole then English then Cherokee.
Master Gerald bought Dilcey and Dilcey fool daughter, Prissy. I suppose I glad. I reckons Dilcey and me fuss and paw the dirt for a time, but ’ventually we sort it out. Master Gerald finally got shut of Overseer Wilkerson. ’Tweren’t none too soon.
Ruth's Journey: The Authorized Novel of Mammy From Margaret Mitchell's Gone With the Wind Page 33
