I Thought My Soul Would Rise and Fly, page 9
Well, Violet knows how to organize and give orders. She sat down on the bench in the kitchen shed and told Nancy and me what to do. Nancy had to stop every clock in the house, otherwise they would wind down and never work again. And I had to cover the mirrors and pictures, to keep the spirits quiet and protect the living.
Friend, The House feels sad. I could hear little moans coming from Ma’am’s chamber.
I rushed back to the kitchen when I finished. Nancy must have felt the same way I did because she was already back in the kitchen when I got there.
Violet told me to get a sheet of white paper and pin a strip of black material or crepe paper at the very top. Several young people would go around the neighborhood and let Sir’s friends know that he had died. His friends would sign their names on the paper. Some of the poor whites like the overseer, who knew Sir or had worked for him, would put their X mark on the paper. Many of them don’t know their letters either.
Douglass took Sir’s horse, so that he could get to the distant plantations and farms quickly. Violet said that a pass had to be written for him because if the Regulators see a black young man on a fine horse, they’ll accuse him of stealing it.
Ma’am couldn’t do it because she was grieving too much.
Friend, I spoke up. I could write a pass for him. Nancy was too surprised to say anything stupid. I got my paper and pen out of the storeroom, and I sat at the table and wrote a pass for Douglass to go to the Cooper Plantation and the farms in that neighborhood.
I had imagined myself writing in the open for all to see, but I didn’t want Sir or anyone else to die so that I could write freely.
Douglass smiled at me when I handed him the pass. “Thank you, Little Teacher,” he said. His voice still sounds in my ears.
Next, Violet told Nancy and me to go back in The House and start to clean. She walked behind us down the passageway.
As Nancy and I swept and dusted in the drawing room, I could hear the men chopping down a tree so that they could make a coffin for Sir. Ma’am’s moans seemed to fill every corner of The House.
Perhaps so that she couldn’t hear Ma’am, Nancy kept chattering and worrying me about how I learned to read and write. “Who teach you?”
I told her how I learned, then she asked, “You was sneaking?”
“Yes!” I answered proudly without stammering. She didn’t play the mistress with me, but did her part without flouncing around and complaining.
We were both afraid to go near Sir’s chambers. We heard Mister Joe in there. Violet was in Ma’am’s chambers. What was she saying and doing in there? I wondered. By the time Nancy and I finished cleaning the drawing rooms and the library, the moaning had stopped, and Mister Joe and Brother Solomon carried Sir into the library and laid him out on the cooling board in his best suit.
He looked like he was sleeping, Friend, and would sit up any minute and cuss Yankees and Republicans.
Violet led Ma’am, Miss Sarah, and the children into the drawing room. Even the Wild One was quiet as they watched over Sir.
Then Violet told Miss Sarah and Ma’am that they had to pass the children over Sir’s body so no spirits harm them, and so they don’t fear the dead.
Ma’am and Miss Sarah did as Violet told them to do. They stood on either side of the cooling board. Miss Sarah passed Nellie over Sir’s body to Ma’am, then Violet took Nellie from Ma’am and handed her to me. Then Miss Sarah picked up the Wild One and did the same thing. He ran to Nancy after Ma’am put him down. Even the Wild One was quiet as Ma’am and Miss Sarah, holding Nellie, sat down to watch over Sir.
Tuesday, September 19, 1865
Dear Friend,
Sir was buried today. All of his friends and neighbors were in The House as Father Holmes laid Sir’s soul to rest. Even the use-to-be overseer was there with his family. Brother Solomon, Douglass, and all of the other hands came to pay their respects.
Sir was buried in the family cemetery right on Davis Hall. Ma’am cried something awful at the gravesite. When Father Holmes asked the hands to sing a song for their old master, Brother Solomon said, “We pray he is with the Father in heaven.” He then turned around and walked back toward the cotton fields and the others followed him. Only Mister Joe and the old men and women remained. They sang “Nearer My God to Thee” and when Father Holmes and all of the other white people left, Mister Joe cracked Sir’s shaving mug and placed it on his grave. “Now he will have his favorite mug with him. Its spirit is freed.”
I cried some because the world is so sad. I thought about my own mother and father who may be dead, and about Reverend McNeal getting hurt. I even thought about Ruth and Luke leaving. Sir never said a kind word to me, but he never hit me and didn’t yell at me too much. Sir wasn’t the most wicked man, I guess. Perhaps he is with the Father in heaven as Father Holmes says.
Wednesday, September 20, 1865
Dear Friend,
Everything feels different. Ma’am is very quiet. She spends most of her time in Sir’s library with Doctor Ashley, going over Sir’s papers and records. Mister Joe stopped by the kitchen shed this morning before he went to the fields. He hauled in the water I needed for the wash and killed two chickens for tonight’s supper. Nancy helped as well, hanging the wash on the fence. I helped her clean the chickens and showed her how to put them on the spit for roasting over the fire.
The House seems quiet and empty without Sir. Nancy says she heard Sir walking in and out of the library. I told her that was her imaginings. I’m glad I sleep in the storeroom though. Sir never came near here when he was living. I doubt his ghost be tromping through here now.
Thursday, September 21, 1865
Dear Friend,
Nancy and I are cleaning and cooking as best we can. Even Sarah helped and swept the drawing rooms and cleaned the chamber where she and her children sleep.
Nancy is curious about my reading and writing. When I offered to show her how, she said Ma’am told her that reading and writing isn’t important for black people.
Nancy believes her. If reading and writing isn’t important, then why wasn’t we allowed to learn how to do it?
I still think about Ruth and Luke. I wonder if they are in school. Friend, I am thinking again about a last name. If Luke or Ruth write to me, I don’t want the envelope to say Patsy Davis. I need a name of my own.
Sunday, September 24, 1865
Dear Friend,
Brother Solomon prayed for Sir’s soul at the arbor this morning, and then we sang “Free at Last.” For the first time since Luke and Ruth left and Sir died, I didn’t feel like a heavy stone was lying on my chest.
Maybe I feel better because Mister Joe told me he heard that Reverend McNeal is recovering from his injuries. And I know I feel better because I spent a lot of time with the younger children today. They like me to read to them from the Wonder Book.
The older children couldn’t be there because they are working hard, picking potatoes and peas. I hope they haven’t forgotten the little I’ve shown them.
Monday, September 25, 1865
Dear Friend,
We have a new cook — Mister Joe! Nancy and I are his helpers. Ma’am says he’ll do until she finds a regular cook. Mister Joe does many things. He still goes out in the fields as well, so that he will get a share of the crops at the end of the year. I don’t think we could survive without him.
Tuesday, September 26, 1865
Dear Friend,
There was a meeting tonight and I read the paper, even though I was so tired. One of the articles said that the land that was given to the freed men and women on the coast and the sea islands would be returned to the former slaveholders. Also, there will be no land for sale at reduced rates.
Brother Solomon said that the papers don’t always tell what is true. I feel sorry for those families that left Davis Hall for the coast. I wonder what will happen to them now. I also wonder what happened to Miriam and her family. Everyone is worried that maybe now they won’t get the land that Sir promised them. At least they are all together.
Brother Solomon and some of the others said that they had no choice but to continue to work until the crops are in, otherwise they will have labored for nothing.
And after the crops are in? Will they all leave? I won’t think about it, Friend. Now I can’t imagine how things would be here at Davis Hall without the people in the quarters. Without the children.
Friday, September 29, 1865
Dear Friend,
Nancy and I are being worked to death. Thank goodness Mister Joe is here to help. Ma’am still spends most of her time with Doctor Ashley, and Miss Sarah is still sweeping and minding her own children. Nancy said that Sir must be turning over in his grave if he knows that Sarah is trying to be helpful.
Ever since that spanking she got, Nancy has no use for Sarah. Friend, Nancy shocked me today and asked me whether I thought the woman who’d come here looking for her was really her mother. I told her that I was sure. Then she asked me why I thought so. Now, Friend, you know I’m not one for much talk, and it would have been too much trouble for me to stammer out the fact that Nancy and Mary Ella look just alike.
The Wild One dashed into the drawing room to hug Nancy and beg her to take him outdoors. He saved me from trying to explain my thoughts.
Sunday, October 1, 1865
Dear Friend,
Things do not feel at all the same, but everyone is going about their work. Mister Joe carried the family and Nancy to church, and I went to the bush arbor.
Brother Solomon is going to remind Ma’am that her husband promised them land as well as a share in the crop.
One old man said, “Let he get cold in he grave before you worry his widow.”
Everyone is angry about not yet getting a school, but they thanked me for teaching the children some of their letters.
Violet said that she wished I could be in the spinning house every day with the children. When I told her I am not a teacher, she stood in front of me with her hands on her hips.
“Who say you ain’t no teacher?” she said. “They ain’t one of us here know more about reading and writing than you. So you is the teacher.”
“Amen,” Brother Solomon said.
What would Ma’am say if I told her that I had to teach the children and didn’t have time for serving tea and cleaning the chambers? Are you laughing, Friend? I am.
Yet Violet’s words sound in my ears.
Wednesday, October 4, 1865
Dear Friend,
I miss speaking to you, but lately by the time night falls, I am too tired to do anything but sleep. The newspaper articles were correct about the government returning land to the former slave owners.
Miss Sarah is overjoyed. She and her husband will get their plantation on Edisto Island back. Sir’s land on the island will be returned to Ma’am as well.
Sunday, October 8, 1865
Dear Friend,
The mornings are cool, and the leaves are beginning to fall. I spent time at the arbor and the spinning house this morning.
I am happy when I am with the children, even though I still miss Luke and Ruth. Friend, why is it that when I grow to care for anyone they leave?
Douglass, the children, and everyone in the quarters will probably leave by the new year. For it doesn’t seem as if there’ll ever be a school here. September has come and gone. I don’t think the people will get the land Sir promised them.
Thursday, October 12, 1865
Dear Friend,
Sarah and the children left today. Mister Joe will carry them to the docks so that they can take the boat to Charleston. The Wild One cried after Nancy, and Nellie smiled and stretched out her hands for me to pick her up. Maybe those children are like Nancy. They get used to whoever takes care of them. Black and white don’t much matter to them.
Ma’am says I can sleep in The House now if I wish — in the ironing room. But I’d rather stay here. At least I can write to you and read in peace.
Saturday, October 14, 1865
Dear Friend,
The fields are still white with cotton. Ma’am is handling everything as Sir did. Brother Solomon, though, is the one who is really taking care of things. He is teaching her about the crops, the weather, and how the cotton is ginned and baled.
Sunday, October 15, 1865
Dear Friend,
It rained today, and Ma’am stayed home from church. She kept me so busy serving her tea, I didn’t get to the arbor. But when Mister Joe came to start the supper, he told me that I didn’t have to help him and to go to the spinning house because the children were looking for me. They didn’t go to the fields because of the rain.
Monday, October 16, 1865
Wash day
Dear Friend,
Doing the laundry is much easier now. There’s only me, Nancy, and Ma’am, but I am also cleaning and cooking more. Mister Joe divides his time between the kitchen and the fields. Nancy is like a noontime shadow, following behind Ma’am. Does she still think about her own mother? I wonder.
Tuesday, October 17, 1865
Dear Friend,
There was a meeting tonight, and I had to read the paper once again. I read them many articles, but the one that excited everyone was the article describing a black convention that will be held in Charleston, in Zion Church in November. It is for the black people of South Carolina to find ways to develop and protect themselves.
The part of the article I liked best and that I kept said: “We urge the parents and guardians of the young and rising generation, by the sad recollection of our forced ignorance and degradation in the past, and by the bright and inspiring hopes of the future, to see that schools are at once established in every neighborhood; and when so established, to see to it that every child of proper age is kept in regular attendance upon the same.”
If Ma’am is supposed to be my guardian and Nancy’s guardian then shouldn’t she be giving us schooling?
Brother Solomon said that it would be so wonderful if at least one person from the plantation could go to the convention, so that people from Davis Hall would be represented, too. But that’s impossible. No one can be spared from the fields, and no one has money to travel to Charleston.
But Mister Joe saved the day. He has a sister in Charleston and he will go if someone works his acres for him. Douglass, his sister, and another young man have agreed to help Mister Joe.
Oh, Friend, I wish I could be there, too. Riding in a coach and six, like Goody Two-Shoes, and stepping out, walking straight as you please to speak out for myself and say without stammering, “We must have a school at Davis Hall.” Sometimes my imaginings are silly, my Friend.
Monday, October 23, 1865
Dear Friend,
Nancy shocked me today. She asked Mister Joe whether the Yankee regiment was still quartered near here. It is. I think Nancy is wondering if her mother still works for the regiment.
The year is drawing to an end. I feel anxious for the future, my Friend. Today as I watched the leaves fall, little by little, Cook’s words sounded in my ears. “If I stay here I’ll never know I’m free.”
Tuesday, October 24, 1865
Dear Friend,
No meeting tonight because Mister Joe did not have time to buy a paper.
I was hanging the skillet over the fireplace when a wonderful thing happened. Douglass walked up to the kitchen shed and asked me to write down the letters from A to Z for him. I told him what each letter was and tried mightily not to stammer, but of course I did, even though I never stammer when I am showing people their letters. He thanked me and said that he’d come back for another lesson, until he remembered them all. I am so happy Nancy was not around.
Wednesday, October 25, 1865
Dear Friend,
I am so tired of all this work. This morning as I emptied the chamber pots, I felt as though I wanted to break each one and march up to Ma’am and tell her that I have no time for chamber pots and laundry. I have children to teach.
I completed my chores very quickly and found Mister Joe. He said if anybody looked for me he’d say he sent me to the dairy, or to do a chore for him.
I stayed with the children until noon. Friend, half of them know most of their letters.
When Violet and Brother Solomon left the fields for their noon meal, they saw me and the children in the spinning house. With a big smile on her face, Violet stepped inside and put her hands on her hips like she always does when she has something important to say.
“Daughter, I has a mind to go right up to that house and tell that woman that you is our teacher and we has a school down here, and you don’t have no time to be up in there emptying chamber pots and sweeping floors.”
Brother Solomon kind of rolled his eyes at her. “Now, Vi, don’t go starting no confusion. You just make trouble for our Little Teacher. This too shall pass.”
What did he mean by that? I wonder.
Thursday, October 26, 1865
Dear Friend,
Ruth would be proud of me. Again, today after doing my chores I spent the rest of the morning in the spinning house teaching the children. Even Douglass came in at noon when the hands had their lunch rest. “I need you to refresh my remembrance on some of these letters, Little Teacher.”
You know my heart danced and jumped. All we need now are books. I hope the people from Reverend McNeal’s church send them as they promised.
