Chapter Thirty-One
Early on the morning of the twenty-fourth, the carriage containing Matthew Justin rolled up to the door of Cromwell Plantation. Carrie, Thomas and Robert were on hand to meet him. Sam took his bags and deposited them in the same room Robert was staying in.
Matthew shook hands warmly with the two men and turned to smile at Carrie. “I had a feeling you came from a place as grand as this. You belong here!”
Carrie smiled but wished she could tell him how wrong he was. This grand place was built on a system she had come to hate. “It’s wonderful to see you again, Matthew. Welcome to Cromwell Plantation. And Merry Christmas!” Carrie was determined to make this Christmas as special as she possibly could. No one knew what the next year would bring.
Thomas reached his hand out and laid it on Matthew’s shoulder. “Of course you know I am anxious for news from South Carolina.”
Matthew nodded. “I’ll tell you everything I can, but I’m afraid you won’t like it.”
“That I’m sure of,” Thomas replied grimly. “But I still must know.”
Carrie watched the exchange and stepped forward. “You will have until dinner to talk politics, then it will be Christmas. I will not allow dark talk to ruin the holiday.” Her voice was unyielding.
Thomas laughed. “Whatever you say, daughter. You’re in charge now.”
Carrie stared at him. She could think of nothing at all to say as he turned and led Matthew and Robert up the stairs and into the house. With that one statement, he had spoken his heart. They had not talked at all about the plantation until then— no mention of when he would come back to the home he and his family before him had carved out of the wilderness. Carrie had harbored a faint hope that being here would reawaken the love in his heart for his home, but now she realized her hope was futile. It was many long minutes before she followed them.
Matthew gazed around him as they walked into the house. “This is truly a magnificent place, Mr. Cromwell.” He paused. “I must tell you, this is my first time being invited to a true Southern plantation. Cromwell certainly lives up to the reputation it holds.”
Thomas shrugged. “It’s my home,” he said simply. At one time he would have been delighted with Matthew’s enthusiasm. Now he had more important things on his mind. He led the way to the group of chairs in front of the fireplace and settled down in the one nearest the flames. He turned to Matthew eagerly. “Tell me about South Carolina,” he urged.
Matthew tore his eyes away from his inspection of the room and took a deep breath. “It was a unanimous vote, Mr. Cromwell. I don’t believe there was a single man there who had not already made up his mind about secession before he arrived. They had determined that, since there was no common bond of sympathy or interest between the North and the South, all effort to preserve a unity would be fruitless.”
“I think I may understand how they feel,” Robert said. Thomas looked at him sharply. “I didn’t say I agree with it, sir,” Robert was quick to add. “I simply said I may understand how they feel.” He chose his words carefully. “They feel as if there is no other course of action available to them. They believe secession is legal, and they see no other way to preserve the only way of life they know. In their minds, they have been backed into a corner.”
Matthew nodded and reached forward to take a sandwich from the tray Sam had delivered to the room. “I believe you’re right, Robert. I don’t believe they have the right to secede, but neither has enough been done to avoid the inevitability of it. Everyone—including Buchanan who refuses to lead, and Lincoln who refuses to talk about it—has taken a wait and see attitude. The leaders of South Carolina feel they have waited long enough.” He turned back to Thomas. “The convention initially met in Columbia, but a smallpox epidemic forced them to move it to Charleston. They were greeted there about the way you would expect,” he said dryly. “There was a fifteen-gun salute and a huge parade.” He frowned. “I did some research while I was there. What I discovered troubled me. There are thirty-three thousand men who have eagerly enlisted in the state’s military organizations. That’s over twice as many men enlisted in all of the United States military. They say they are ready to resist any overture by the federal government to oppose their decision.” His voice was deeply troubled.
“The government would be wise not to try any such thing,” Robert said.
Matthew looked at him. “I hate that we find ourselves on different sides of this issue, Robert.”
The glint left Robert’s eyes and his face saddened. “I still have hopes nothing more will come of this. It’s not too late for the federal government to make the concessions the South needs and demands.”
Matthew shook his head. “There will be no compromising from Lincoln on slavery. He has made himself perfectly clear on it. He will do nothing to touch the institution as it now stands, but he will not even consider slavery in the new states.”
Robert scowled. “Then he will carry the blood of a war on his head.”
Thomas, deeply troubled as he watched the two men argue, broke in. “No one man will carry the responsibility for what may come. Please, Matthew, tell me more about the convention.”
Matthew nodded and reached into his pocket. “Just before I left last night, a copy of this was put into my hand, and I thought you would like to hear it. It was drawn up by the convention.” He scanned the pages of paper. “You can read it at your liberty later, sir. Basically, it says that the benefits the Constitution had been drawn up to secure have been defeated by the actions of the free states of the North.” He found the place he was looking for and began to read.
Those states have assumed the right of deciding upon the propriety of our domestic institutions; and have denied the rights of property established in fifteen of the states and recognized by the Constitution; they have denounced as sinful the institution of slavery; they have permitted the open establishment among them of societies, whose avowed object is to disturb the peace and to eloign the property of the citizens of other states.
He scanned further and picked back up.
A sectional party avowedly hostile to the South is about to take possession of the government. The guarantees of the Constitution will then no longer exist; the equal rights of the states will be lost. The slave-holding states will no longer have the power of self-government, or self-protection, and the federal government will have become their enemy.
“The federal government will have become their enemy...” Thomas echoed in a disbelieving voice. “I fear there is no turning back from the course that has been set.”
Matthew nodded soberly and handed Thomas another document. “There may be changes to this. I received it last night also. It is a letter to the other Southern states, pleading with them to secede and join in forming a Confederation of Southern States. In it, South Carolina requests only that they be left alone, to work out their own high destiny.”
Thomas shook his head. “I still believe there has been no act committed that justifies the actions they are taking.”
“Governor Pickens was inaugurated just days before the convention,” Matthew replied. “I was there for it. He made it clear that the overt action for which secession was supposed to wait has already been committed—by the Northern people at the ballot box.”
“I suppose Charleston went wild when the state seceded,” Robert commented.
Matthew nodded. “The streets were wild for two days. Fireworks, parades, bands… It seemed as if every person in Charleston was out on the streets laughing, talking and cheering secession. You would have been hard-pressed to find anyone who was not thrilled.”
Carrie had just walked into the room. “I’m sure there was someone there with enough sense not to be excited,” she said. “Surely not all of them are too blind to see what will come of this.”
Matthew smiled. “I happened to run into one of them. A frail, old gentleman by the name of Petigru. He is a devout Union man and didn’t care who knew about it. I overheard him talking to a friend. He said, ‘They have this day set a torch to the temple of constitutional liberty, and please God, we shall have no more peace forever.’ Then he turned and stalked away.”
Thomas smiled, but the flicker on his lips was brief. All he could do was shake his head as he stared into the flames of the fire.
Carrie had her way. As soon as supper was called on that Christmas Eve of 1860, all political discussion ceased. Thomas was relieved to have a reason to push their dark thoughts away and focus on the holiday celebration.
Excitement was running high in the quarters. Sarah had led her little army of children into the woods again, and now every cabin was decorated with greenery, pinecones, gourds and colorful leaves. Rose was rearranging a great collection of greenery on the table when Moses walked in. He stopped short when he saw her, his eyes widening with delight. “I thought you were at the big house with Miss Carrie.”
Rose shook her head. “She didn’t want us to be apart on Christmas Eve.” Laughter glinted in her eyes. “Are you sorry I’m here?”
Moses chuckled as he moved forward to take her in his arms. “Let me show you how sorry I am.” He stepped sideways, playfully dumped her on the bed, and lay down next to her. He looked deeply into her eyes and ran a finger gently down the side of her face. “You’re beautiful,” he said.
Rose melted as she looked in his eyes. “I love you, Moses,” she whispered.
Finally, she broke away from his embrace. “I have some cooking to do for tomorrow,” she said, laughing as he reached to pull her back. “I promised I would bake some sweet potato pies for the big feast tomorrow.”
Moses immediately snatched his hand back. “Sweet potato pie?”
Rose pretended to be hurt. “At least now I know what is most important.”
Moses nodded gravely. “I wouldn’t want you to break your promise.”
“Or miss any pie,” Rose snorted.
“That, too,” he agreed.
A rap came at the door, and John stuck his head in. “You ‘bout ready for the possum hunt, Moses? It be almost dark.”
Moses nodded. “I’ll be right there.”
“Sarah is ‘bout to start her storytelling, Rose.”
Rose nodded. “I’ll be over soon, Daddy. I wouldn’t miss that for the world.” She turned to Moses. “Y’all had better bring back some good possums. We’ve got plenty of people to feed tomorrow.”
Suddenly, Charles stuck his head in the door. His eyes were wide and frightened. “We got trouble comin’,” he stated.
Moses waved him in. “What is it?”
Charles was clearly nervous, shifting from one foot to the other. “Marse Cromwell had me take somethin’ over to the Ruffin place. I was in the shadows on the porch waitin’ when their overseer rode by with one o’ his friends. They was talking ‘bout Adams.”
“Ike Adams?” Moses asked.
Charles nodded. “They said he knew Marse Cromwell was here. That he be comin’ over to demand his job back. He done found out that Marse Cromwell don’t know he ain’t here no more.”
Moses frowned. “Do you know when he’s supposed to come?”
Charles nodded again. “He was going to wait till dark so’s to make sure Marse Cromwell be here.”
Moses frowned, deep in thought. “Rose, go collect some of the crackers from the children,” he said. He turned to Charles. “Get some rope from the barn. We’re going to have a little surprise for Ike Adams.” He smiled as he envisioned it.
Rose hurried out to do as he asked. When she returned, Charles was just running up with the rope. Moses turned to her and lifted her face gently. “It may be real late when I get back. I’m going to take some of the field hands. I don’t reckon any of us will be back for the dance, but don’t worry about me. If all goes as planned, Adams won’t even know what happened.”
Rose opened her mouth to ask questions, but there was too little time. “Be careful,” was all she said.
Moses nodded, grabbed the things he had requested, and disappeared into the darkness.
Rose sank to her knees, praying.
Carrie and the men gathered in front of the Christmas tree as soon as supper was finished. During the afternoon, the house servants had helped her place tiny candles all over the tree. They had also allowed the fire to go out, and Moses had carried in the huge Yule log Carrie had selected.
Thomas smiled when he saw it. “You remembered everything, didn’t you?”
Carrie wrapped her arm around his waist. “I want to help you build new memories, Father.” Her voice was soft as she gazed into his eyes.
Quick tears sprang into Thomas’ eyes, but the haunted look was gone. “Thank you, dear.” He took the long wooden match she held out to him, struck it on the stone, and knelt to light the massive log. The tinder sputtered and caught, and soon an eager flame was eating at the wood.
The roar of the fire soon permeated the room with its welcome warmth. Only then did Carrie turn toward the Christmas tree. “Will you and Matthew help me, Robert?” She made no attempt to hide the excitement in her voice. The lighting of the Christmas tree was always her favorite time. She held out lit matches to the two men. They were soon bringing life to the multitude of candles adorning the tree.
Matthew was the first to speak as the four gazed at the beautiful tree sending its glow into the room. “My family never had a Christmas tree. I never even heard of one until I was twelve years old. Now I know what I was missing.”
Carrie nodded. “It has become my favorite part of Christmas. We owe a lot to Charles Minnegerode.”
“Who?”
Carrie laughed. “Have you never heard the story?” She continued on when Matthew shook his head. “He was a German immigrant who introduced the first Christmas tree to a Virginian family in 1842. I’ll never forget the first one I saw. We had gone to spend Christmas with some friends in Williamsburg when I was six years old. I thought it was the prettiest thing I had ever seen. We’ve had one ever since. Why, even the Yankees have trees now,” she said teasingly. “President Pierce put one in the White House three years ago, and now the tradition is spreading in the North, as well.”
Matthew smiled. “I understand why you love it so much.”
Carrie watched the tree quietly for a few more minutes and then moved over to the piano. Soon, melodious strains of Christmas carols rang through the house as their four voices joined in song. Carrie sang joyously as she played, thrilled to see the deep lines on her father’s face smooth a little.
Rose finally got off her knees, threw another log on the fire, and finished the sweet potato pies. It would do no good to sit in the cabin and worry all night. She had put it in God’s hands. Her mama had always told her it didn’t do any good to put things in God’s hands if you were going to stand in front of him and keep snatching them back. She laid the pies on the table, threw on her cloak, and hurried to Sarah’s cabin. She hadn’t missed a storytelling session in her whole life. She didn’t want to start now.
Rose swung the door open and smiled when she saw all the children sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the blazing fire. Sarah, dressed in white, rocked gently in her chair beside the flames. Many of the women and older children lined the walls, sitting on chairs they had carried in with them. It was a good thing all the men were gone on the possum hunt or with Moses, because the tiny cabin was already bulging at the seams. Rose slipped in and sank down with the children.
Sarah was just starting another story. “Who here know ‘bout the baby Moses?”
Jubilee clapped her hands in delight. “This be my most favorite story, Miss Sarah!”
Sarah smiled at the excited little girl and leaned forward to fix her intense eyes on all the children. Not a sound could be heard as they held their breath in anticipation. “The baby Moses was a little Jew baby. There was a great king at the time who didn’t like Jew babies.”
“Like some people don’t like nigger babies?” a little voice piped in.
Sarah nodded. “I reckon it sho ‘nuff was like that.” She put her finger to her lips for silence and continued. “The great king decided he was going to kill off all the Jew baby boys, but Moses’ mama didn’t want that to happen to her baby. So she fixed a big basket out of reeds down by the river and put her fine baby boy in that basket. When nobody weren’t lookin’ she hid her fine baby in the bulrushes down by the river. Then she watched to see what would happen...” Her words trailed off as the children leaned closer. They all knew the story by heart, but that didn’t affect the magic of hearing it again. The fire sputtered and crackled.
“What happened, Miss Sarah?” Jubilee asked breathlessly.
Sarah paused for a long moment. “The daughter of that great king done found that baby Moses. She knew he was a Jew baby, but she didn’t want no harm to come to him. So you knows what she done?” She hesitated but didn’t wait for an answer. “She took the baby Moses and raised him in the palace, just like he was one of them fine Egyptians.”
The children’s eyes grew wide as they imagined what that would be like. Why, it would be like living in the big house with Miss Carrie!
Sarah smiled. “Baby Moses never forgot who he be, though. He never forgot he was a Jew baby. And God never forgot. He had a mighty big plan for that little boy. When Moses got bigger, God told him what it was.” She leaned closer. “Moses was going to be the one to set all his people free.”
“Cause all his people were slaves,” a voice said.
“That’s right,” Sarah agreed. “All his people were slaves. They done been cryin’ out to God for a long time to set them free. They done thought he hadn’t heard them, or maybe that he didn’t care none. But all that time, he was getting Moses big enough to do his job. It weren’t no easy job,” she said intensely. “The man who were the master—they called him the Pharaoh—didn’t want to let all them people go. He liked havin’ them as his slaves. They did all his work for him and made him rich.”
“Like we do!” The women in the room all nodded their heads as a mutter broke from one of the dark corners. All of them were as enthralled by the story as the children. Every year the hearing of it renewed the hope in their hearts.
Sarah smiled gently. “Moses didn’t want to do what God told him, ‘cause he was right scared of what would happen. And he didn’t think God could use someone like him. God done believed in him a bunch more than he believed in himself. He had to set a whole bush burnin’ before Moses said he would do what God told him to.” She paused. “God done put that Pharaoh through a lot of hard times. It took a right lot to convince him to let those slaves go. The Bible done call them plagues. Why, their water turned to blood one time!” The children gasped and stared at her with wide eyes. Then Sarah smiled. “God won, though. That Pharaoh finally got tired of being so stubborn, and he let all them slaves go.” She allowed the room to grow silent and still, then, closing her eyes, she began to sing.
Go down Moses
Way down in Egyptland
Tell Ol’ Pharaoh
To let my people go
Verse after verse rolled out in her rich, velvety voice. The children, shyly at first, and then enthusiastically, joined in on the chorus. Their hopeful voices exploded from the tiny cabin and mingled with the stars. Some of the women joined in, but most leaned back in their chairs, taking comfort in the knowledge that all God’s love hadn’t been spent on Israel. Surely a deliverer would be coming soon.
Moses and Jupiter took their position on the side of the road, well hidden by the bushes. The other three field hands were crouched just opposite them on the other side. They were ready. Moses had laid out his plan, and the others had smiled into the darkness before taking their positions. If it didn’t work... None of them would allow the consequences to form in their mind. It had to work.
Moses had no idea how long he had hunkered there in the cold darkness before he finally heard the thud of approaching hoofbeats. His heart pounded as he peered down the dark road. Nervously, he fingered the crackers Rose had gathered from the children. They had asked no questions as to why she was taking the carefully dried pig bladders they had been saving ever since slaughtering time. The look in her eyes had been enough for them to know it was important. Moses leaned as far forward as he could without risking detection.
“It’s Adams,” Jupiter whispered in his ear.
Moses nodded as the horse drew near enough for him to recognize Adams’ mare, Ginger. He took a deep breath and blew several strong puffs of air into the cracker he was holding. He knew all the other men were doing the same thing. He held the opening closed tightly between his fingers and stared down the road. All he could do was wait. Sweat broke out on his forehead, but his hands and eyes were steady as he gauged the distance carefully. Slowly, he raised the cracker until it was at eye level.
Adams was sitting on his mare loosely when he drew even with Moses and his band. Moses, as soon as Ginger drew even with him, allowed one massive hand to slam against the blown-up cracker. A loud pop! exploded into the still winter night. Four more explosions followed his. Ginger, terrified by the loud, unexpected noises, bolted forward and then reared in protest. Adams, with no warning and no chance to prepare, tumbled backward.
Moses and his men were on Adams before he could even focus his eyes. Dazed from his fall, he made no move as a piece of cloth was wrapped tightly around his eyes and another stuffed roughly into his mouth. His hands were pulled behind him and tied, and his feet were trussed.
Jupiter, who had sprung forward to grab Ginger, stood quietly watching the operation. Not a word would be spoken until they had disposed of Adams. They would take no chance he would recognize them.
Moses stood and stared down at the bound man who was just beginning to show signs of struggle. He had hoped the fall would knock Adams out. He knew the slightest whisper or slip among the men could jeopardize all their lives. The other men waited, knowing what he would have to do next. He grimaced in distaste but set his face with resolve, pulled his arm back, and aimed a mighty punch at Adams’ head.
The overseer’s head lolled back, and his body went limp. Moses leaned down and riffled through his pockets. He was no thief, but part of his scheme was to make the attack look like a robbery. There was precious little money, but what he found he threw into the bushes with a mighty heave. Then he leaned down, threw Adams’ unconscious body over his shoulder, and walked to where Jupiter was holding Ginger. Unceremoniously, he dumped Adams across the saddle and used the two remaining pieces of rope to secure him. He took the reins, turned, and began jogging down the road in the direction Ike Adams had come from.
Jupiter opened his mouth as if to say something, but Moses held his finger to his lips. He would take no chances. There would be no words spoken until they had disposed of Adams and made it back to Cromwell safely. Jupiter nodded and sprinted on ahead so he could watch for approaching riders. There would be no way to explain five slaves and a tied-up overseer.
Rose watched carefully as the men who had returned from the possum hunt filed into the great barn. Her hopes that Moses and the rest of the men would be with them were quickly dashed. Questioning looks were on many faces, but no one said anything. Ignorance was best when it came to things like this. Music was soon floating from the cracks in the barn. Nobody happening by would think anything was out of order. The big times Christmas Eve dance was under way.
In spite of her worries, Rose found herself caught in the spirit of the music. Drums, made from hollowed logs, beat a steady rhythm. Handmade, stringed instruments blended with the two fiddles Carrie had sent down from the big house for the celebration. Lanterns illuminated the cavernous building, and the smell of barbecue pervaded the air. The clapping and stomping got louder and louder as the evening progressed.
Sam danced over to where Rose leaned against the wall, watching the celebration. “Not dancing ain’t going to solve nothing, girl. They’s gettin’ ready to pat the Juba. How about one dance with an old man?”
Rose smiled in spite of herself and nodded. “Think you can keep up with me, Sam?” she teased.
Sam grinned, grabbed her hand, and spun her onto the floor. Rose laughed and joined her voice to sing with the rest.
Juba this and Juba that
Juba killed a yeller cat
Juba this and Juba that,
Hold your partner where you at.
The sun was just beginning to tint the horizon when Moses walked into the cabin. Rose, braiding her hair in front of the warm fire, spun to meet him. “Moses!” she cried as she ran to embrace him.
Moses held her close for a long moment and then pushed her gently away. “You’ve got to get to the big house. Now ain’t the time for questions.” His voice was tired, but his eyes were content.
Rose stared up at him. “Everything is all right?” She knew they didn’t have time to talk.
Moses nodded and leaned down to brush her lips with his own. “I’ll tell you about it later. Merry Christmas, wife.”
Rose smiled lovingly and pressed her lips against his, longing to stay home and take care of her exhausted husband. “Merry Christmas, Moses.”