I Thought My Soul Would Rise and Fly, page 8
Wednesday, August 9, 1865
Dear Friend,
Sir is ill again, and I had to be in The House all day listening to Ma’am screech in my ear. She says Nancy and I are apprentices and she’s training us. For what? I wonder.
I wish I could be trained to be a real teacher.
Monday, August 14, 1865
Wash day
Dear Friend,
I cannot stay with you long because I am writing the letters on a paper for each of the older children. I think it might help them remember.
Wednesday, August 16, 1865
Dear Friend,
Sir is still feeling poorly. The snakeroot did not work, I suppose. Ma’am says it’s the heat, so she told Ruth to let Luke come to the drawing room and fan Sir. Ruth was helping me clean the chambers. Her eyes looked angry instead of soft like they usually do. Then she told Ma’am she wants Luke to be schooled and that if he stands here and fans Sir, could she in turn teach him to read and write? Let him look at a book? Ruth winked at me.
Well, Friend, I thought Ma’am would take sick like her husband. She went from white to pink to red and then turned back to white. Ma’am refused, saying she has a sick husband to tend to.
Ruth suggested that Sarah could show him.
Ma’am screeched like a jaybird. “She’s got her own children. Who is putting all of these fool notions in your head?”
Ruth continued sweeping. “I just had another fool notion,” she said. “On the coast, they have plenty freed men’s schools, a cook like me could always find work. Now, you have some leftover old books in the library that my boy could borrow, look at the pictures, learn what a book feels like in his hands.”
She kept sweeping, and Friend, it was all that I could do to keep from laughing. Ma’am told me to gather up Annie and Charles’s old books and magazines. The first book I put my hand on was the Goody Two-Shoes book, then the Wonder Book and five copies of the Youth’s Companion.
I took them to Ma’am, and she looked them over quickly.
I was still clutching Goody Two-Shoes, and imagining myself reading it as often as I wished, when Ma’am took it away from me. She said it was Sir’s favorite when he was a boy. He still treasures it.
My heart was heavy as I turned around and took the magazines and the other book to Ruth.
Later Ma’am told Ruth that Luke is a good child and needs to be apprenticed to a cooper or a tailor.
“He belongs to me now. I’ll be the judge of what he needs,” Ruth snapped.
Saturday, August 19, 1865
Dear Friend,
Sir is feeling weak, but his fever has broken. Ma’am called in Doctor Ashley. Luke is so happy that he doesn’t have to fan anymore. It seems as if we spent the whole evening toting water to The House so that everyone could take their baths.
Luke and Ruth are asleep now. After we took our own baths, I spent the rest of the evening reading to Luke. He loves the stories in the Wonder Book.
Sunday, August 20, 1865
Dear Friend,
The children were so happy to see me this morning. They ran over when I reached the arbor. I felt as though my soul would rise and fly, as our song says.
We walked together to the spinning house. I will call it a schoolroom — even though it’s not a real schoolroom, and I am not a real teacher. I gave each older child a paper with all of the letters and an easy word to match each letter, just the way Annie and Charles’s teacher used to do.
If I had a slate I could begin to show some of them how to write. We are all very happy in the spinning house, I mean to say schoolroom. Luke loves to help the others, so he can show off what he already knows. I could stay there all day with the children. One of the old women said to me, “You such a quiet little thing, but you sho’ know how to teach them letters.”
I surprised myself when I said thank you without stammering.
Tuesday, August 22, 1865
Dear Friend,
There was no meeting tonight. Reverend McNeal did not come, nor did he send word. Ruth and I hope that nothing has happened to him.
Thursday, August 24, 1865
Dear Friend,
Sir is ill again. Luke’s fanning doesn’t help him anymore. It’s a good thing Ruth didn’t hear Sir scream at Luke today. That would have caused a terrible row.
Mister Joe ate delicious okra gumbo with us this evening. No one has seen Reverend McNeal in over a week. I am afraid for him.
Luke begged Mister Joe for a story, and Mister Joe said he thought Luke was reading book stories now.
I still like Mister Joe’s stories. I asked him to tell the story about the people who could fly. I stammered so much, Mister Joe laughed. “Daughter, get that word out!”
Ruth smiled at me. “Girl, you start sputtering anytime you ask for something. You go on and ask. All anyone can say is no. And how come you don’t sputter when you read?” I couldn’t answer. I don’t know why myself.
Ruth put her arms around me. “This stammering and sputtering you do is something you can help. And don’t be ashamed of how you speak.”
“I think this little daughter here can speak just fine when she with people who love her,” Mister Joe said.
Friend, I was so speechless, all I could do was smile. I never thought much about anyone loving me, except God and my mother and father, if I was with them. Ruth, Luke, and Mister Joe feel like my family. And by the way, I think Mister Joe has his eyes on Ruth, but she don’t know it.
If Mister Joe and Ruth got married that would be a wonderful thing. Ruth and Luke would still be in the neighborhood—maybe she would still work here at Davis Hall. And Luke can go to school here when we get one.
Saturday, August 26, 1865
Dear Friend,
Sir seems to shrink each day, but as his body weakens, his mouth becomes stronger and coarser. He screamed at Ma’am, and when I served him his tea he threw some curses at me, too, because the tea was weak.
“I … I … didn’t make it, Master.” (I meant to say Sir, but when I said Master he calmed down.)
Another amusing thing happened today. I laugh when I think of it. The Wild One was bouncing around the drawing room like a jack-rabbit and wouldn’t stop. Nancy turned him on her lap and spanked him. He screamed and ran to his mother. I was wiping off the chair he’d jumped on when Sarah dashed into the room and snatched Nancy and spanked her.
Friend, Nancy sassed Sarah and then Ma’am came in the room and slapped Nancy. Sir cussed at everyone from the other drawing room. I left the room because I didn’t want them to see me laughing.
Nancy didn’t speak a word for the rest of the day. It serves her right after the way she treated her own mother.
Sunday, August 27, 1865
Dear Friend,
I did not see the children today. Sir is ill, and I had to remain in The House to help since everyone else went to St. Philip’s. I gave him his tea, and he fell fast asleep. So I went to the library to read the Goody Two-Shoes book.
I’m not scared anymore of anyone finding out I can read and write. But, Friend, I could not find the book at all. Ma’am must have put it away in the trunk with Sir’s other childhood things.
Everyone is worried about Reverend McNeal because he still has not been seen, even on the other farms. Friend, I will pray hard for Reverend McNeal’s safety.
Monday, August 28, 1865
Dear Friend,
Ruth and I both cried when Mister Joe gave us the sad news today. The Reverend was ambushed when he was traveling alone to one of the farms for a Union League meeting. He was attacked by the Regulators, who said he was trespassing on private property. He was beaten very badly and will not be coming back to Davis Hall or to any of the farms around here. He has returned to Baltimore for a while.
Mister Joe said they can still have meetings since I can read the paper to them.
“Yes,” I said without a stammer. I am feeling like a different person now, my Friend. They really need me.
Wednesday, August 30, 1865
Dear Friend,
Maybe it’s my imaginings, but everyone seemed so extra happy to see me at the meeting last night. Douglass sat in the cabin this time, on the ground directly in front of me. I couldn’t look at him, for I’d miss my place in the newspaper and surely stammer myself silly.
Everyone was interested in hearing about the voting and whether black men will be given the vote. Mostly, though, they care about land.
But Brother Solomon said that it is not enough to be free. If we have no vote, then we have no power. I wish I could vote myself into a schoolhouse. It seems to me that women should be able to vote, too.
We never end a meeting without reading the Information Wanted section. I heard only breathing and crickets chirping as I read. Here is another one of the notices:
Information is wanted of my two boys, James and Horace, one of whom was sold in Nashville and the other was sold in Rutherford County. I, myself, was sold in Nashville and sent to Alabama, by Wm. Boyd. I and my children belonged to David Moss, who was connected with the Penitentiary in some capacity. Charity Moss
Will she ever find her children? I wonder. I hope so. We ended the meeting with a prayer for Reverend McNeal’s recovery.
Sunday, September 3, 1865
Dear Friend,
It’s September already. Will a teacher come as Mister Joe thinks? I will not be too hopeful. The old mothers and fathers call me Little Teacher now. I like that name, too.
Monday, September 4, 1865
Dear Friend,
I have done the wash and ironing all in a day. Finally. I am too tired to write very much. Ma’am said that I have become a splendid laundress. I don’t like her compliments. I would rather learn how to be a splendid teacher.
Wednesday, September 6, 1865
Dear Friend,
Not as many people were at last night’s meeting. Since Reverend McNeal was beaten, some of the people are saying that they do not want to be involved in politics. They are even afraid to come to Brother Solomon’s cabin. Douglass says that if blacks vote then they can vote out the judges, sheriffs, and mayors who are the same men who ruled before the War and we can get the right people in office who will treat us fair and equal. I think he is right. Only women should vote, too, then that would be more votes for the right people.
Friday, September 8, 1865
Dear Friend,
This has been a day. Luke and I had just finished getting back from the dairy, and we were walking back to the kitchen when we saw a black man strolling along the front walkway leading to The House. At first I thought that it was the Reverend McNeal. Then I saw that the man wore a blue Yankee uniform, and his cap was turned a little to the side.
His black boots were polished to a high shine. He walked so straight. I didn’t know that there were black Yankee soldiers. He was almost as handsome as Douglass.
Luke’s round button eyes opened wide. If we hadn’t had the heavy milk pails, I know Luke would’ve run up to him. The man strode up the walk and, instead of going to The House, he stopped at the cottages lining the walk and shouted through the open shutters of the first cottage, “Hello? Anyone home?”
“Hi, Mister Soldier,” Luke yelled, trying to run. The man smiled. “Hey, boy, do you know where I could find a lady named Ruth?”
“That’s my ma,” Luke shouted. The soldier looked as though he was going to cry. “Let me help you with the milk pail,” he said, and they walked toward the kitchen shed. I limped behind them and, before I reached the shed, I heard a yell and a crash. I knew that Ruth had dropped the skillet.
And I knew that this Yankee soldier was John, Luke’s father, and that he had come to take Luke and Ruth away.
Saturday, September 9, 1865
Dear Friend,
Yesterday was the saddest day of my life as I watched Luke, Ruth, and John walk away from the plantation. They were going first to the magistrate so that they could be married by law, and then they were traveling to Charleston where John’s regiment is quartered.
Ruth was so happy as she told me about their plans. Luke was like a mad boy. It seemed as if he said, “My papa, my papa,” all morning and afternoon.
While John waited in the kitchen shed, Ruth went to The House and told Ma’am and Sir that she was leaving. They were upset, but there was nothing they could do. When Ruth told them John was a soldier, they didn’t say anything else. Ruth says they won’t have trouble finding a new cook.
But I will have trouble finding a new friend like Ruth.
She didn’t have much to pack, just two homespun dresses, a pair of trousers, and two shirts for Luke. John told her not to bring anything off this plantation except Luke and herself.
When I handed her Luke’s books she refused them. “You keep these, Patsy. Luke will be going to school and so will I. We’ll be getting plenty books.”
I walked with them to the gate. All of the hands were there to say good-bye. Violet hugged her. I could tell that Mister Joe felt as bad as I did.
Suddenly Ruth said, “Patsy, leave. Come on with us.” Before I could answer, Luke said, “Patsy, you coming, too? Who’s going to teach me new words?” But John thinks it’s best if I stay here, for now. When he’s mustered out of the Army and they’re settled, maybe I can go and live with them, he says.
Luke, Ruth, and I hugged, and I tried mightily not to cry. But when they walked out of the gate and Luke turned around and said, “I’ll write you a letter, Patsy,” tears rolled down my face.
I knew that I couldn’t go with them even before John said so. They are a family, and I don’t want to be a burden to them. I have to find my own family.
Friend, as I sit in this empty lonely cottage, I am thinking that I am supposed to stay here. But I don’t know why.
Now there is only Nancy and me left.
Sunday, September 10, 1865
Dear Friend,
What a trying day this has been. The only good thing about it was that Sarah had to take care of her own children. This morning Ma’am called Nancy and me into the dining room after I had served breakfast and told us what our new tasks would be.
On Monday I will do the wash and ironing as usual. Nancy will cook and clean, but I will be her helper until a new cook is hired. In the meantime, Ma’am will show Nancy how to organize herself in the kitchen. Who is going to show Ma’am? I wonder.
Well, Friend, it was a mess. I know more about cooking than both Nancy and Ma’am. When I returned from collecting firewood as Ma’am ordered me to do, I saw her and Nancy standing at the fireplace staring at the three-legged pot for cooking rice, wondering what to do first. Nancy should have paid attention when Ruth was trying to teach her.
I started toward the arbor, but then turned around and went back to the kitchen shed. I felt sorry for them. And I had to eat, too. Ma’am was getting redder and redder. I knew she’d blow up directly. So I showed them how to properly clean the rice and the exact amount of water to put in the pot so that every grain of rice is separate and cooked just right.
I missed seeing the children today. It is so lonely without Ruth and Luke. Mister Joe didn’t come for dinner, but he did bring me some firewood and water. He misses Ruth, too.
I ate alone after Nancy had her dinner. I have moved back into the storeroom because the cottage reminds me of Ruth and Luke too much.
Monday, September 11, 1865
Wash day
Dear Friend,
I am so tired, but I have to tell you this. Nancy made some rock-hard biscuits this morning. This was one time I was happy that I have become a splendid laundress, because I had nothing to do with those biscuits, and wasn’t standing in the dining room when Sir broke his tooth biting into one and spanked Nancy. She was crying when she ran back into the kitchen with Ma’am following her. She must have felt sorry for Nancy. I stopped doing the wash to show Nancy how to make the hominy grits Sir was hollering for.
Tuesday, September 12, 1865
Dear Friend,
I couldn’t go to the meeting tonight. There has been too much work. Sir is ill again. Maybe it’s Nancy’s biscuits.
Wednesday, September 13, 1865
Dear Friend,
I can’t write too long for I am exhausted. I wish Luke and Ruth were still here. I have not even read my magazines or the Wonder Book because I became accustomed to reading with them. I hope Sir gets better soon. He is wearing us all out.
Mister Joe told me this afternoon that everyone missed me at the meeting last night. The children asked for me on Sunday. I miss them.
Now, Friend, I think I understand why I didn’t go with Ruth. Had I left, who would be here to show the children their letters? And who would be here to read the paper at the meetings?
Sunday, September 17, 1865
Dear Friend,
Sir died this morning. I cannot stay and speak with you because everything is in such a state. Ma’am is in her chamber, and Nancy is there with her. Sarah is screaming at the Wild One something awful. Nobody seems to know what to do. How I wish Cook or Ruth was here. They would surely know. I am so frightened. Something must be done. We can’t leave old Sir in his chamber like that. I will talk to you later.
Evening
I ran to the arbor to tell them that Sir died. Mister Joe was there, too. Violet stopped her work and walked back with me to The House.
Nancy flew down the passageway yelling at me and trying to play the mistress. Before I could say a word, Violet said, “Now, you hush your mouth. This child the only one up here had sense enough to come and get some help.”
