Carried Forward By Hope (17 page)

Janie waited restlessly while the murmuring continued. Her head jerked up when the first statement was made that she could understand.

“I’m telling you, General Johnston will be forced to surrender!”

Clifford’s voice rose above the rest. “That’s nonsense! Johnston signed a surrender armistice with Sherman.”

“Yes, he offered him the same surrender terms Grant offered Lee,” another man snorted. “Give up their weapons and promise to fight no more, and then they could go home.”

“That’s only part of it,” another protested.

Janie crept closer so that she could hear the conversation clearly. She was sure she would hear footsteps and be able to hide before she was discovered snooping.

“He’s right,” Clifford said. “Johnston refused to accept the terms. He told Sherman he had the power to surrender all the Confederate armies everywhere in the South, but would only do it if Sherman gave him what he wanted.”

“Which was?”

Clifford sounded quite proud to be the one with the information. Janie could envision the cold gloat on his face as he proved his superiority over the other men. “Instead of surrendering, the Confederate armies will break up and go home, taking their weapons with them. In exchange, President Johnson will recognize state governments in the South that promised to support the Constitution.” Clifford paused. “Sherman said the president will protect our political rights and will not interfere with the Southern people if we remain peaceful and obey the laws.”

There was a long silence. Another man, someone Janie had not heard speak yet, was the next to raise his voice. “I hear Sherman was called up to Washington. I’m not sure everyone up there is happy with the arrangement he made.”

“Well, they should be,” Clifford retorted angrily. “The North had better give us the right to live our own lives down here, or they’ll find themselves right back in battle!”

An even longer silence reigned. Janie, safe from discovery, smirked with disdain. Just exactly how did Clifford think the South could go to war again over anything? They had already been soundly defeated and had no resources to take action of any kind.

“How exactly do you propose that happen?” one of the men asked blandly.

Janie smiled, knowing she wasn’t the only one to find Clifford’s statement ridiculous. The smile faded as she listened.

“There is more than one way to fight a war,” Clifford said angrily. “The North might think they can come down here and tell us how to run our lives, and they may send the military down to control things, but they won’t be here forever. There are already plans being made,” he added mysteriously. His voice rose again. “Do any of you plan on letting your old slaves be your equals?” he snarled. “Are you ready to let the niggers invade our cities and leave our plantations to go to ruin?”

“No!” The voices of the other men in the room rose in unison.

“But what do we do now?” one of them asked.

“We wait,” Clifford responded. “First, we wait to see if Johnston’s armistice sticks. President Johnson was a slave owner himself. I sense he is sympathetic to our cause, though he may have to do some posturing to catch the Yankees off guard.” His laugh was brittle and cold. “John Wilkes Booth did us all a huge favor by killing Lincoln. It may take some time, but I predict we’ll be back in control of the South before too long. They may have beaten us militarily, but that doesn’t mean we don’t still have ways to protect the grand Southern lifestyle.”

“Slavery is dead,” one man protested. “There is no changing that.”

“You’re right,” Clifford agreed, “but there is more than one way to make sure the nigger stays in his place.”

Janie stiffened, not wanting to believe it was her husband she was listening to. Had he truly deceived her so completely when he courted her? Had she been totally blind to what was truly in his heart? Or had he just radically changed when confronted with the reality of a crushing Southern defeat? Tears filled her eyes when she accepted that the kind of hatred she heard oozing from his voice had not been born overnight. It had long been felt and nurtured. Perhaps once he had cared enough about her to stuff it inside and even believe he could feel differently, but he was no longer making any kind of pretense about how he truly felt and who he really was.

The sound of footsteps had her scurrying down the hallway. She slipped into the kitchen just as the study door opened. Knowing the meeting would go on for hours but not willing to take the risk of being detected, she slipped out onto the back porch and slumped down on the steps to lean against the railing. Protected by the darkness, she let hot tears rain down her cheeks.

******

“We’re here!” Susie called out as the spires of Richmond appeared on the horizon. She leaned forward as the crowded wagon approached the outskirts of the city, and then frowned when she saw the blackened walls standing out in stark relief against the blue sky. She heard about Richmond’s burning, but seeing it in person was different from hearing about it. She sucked in her breath when she saw the destruction and felt bile rise in her throat.

“You know Richmond right well?” a woman in the wagon asked anxiously. “You know how to get us down to the black quarter?”

“Don’t worry,” Susie said soothingly, forcing her nausea down. “That’s where I grew up. I have friends there.”

“You sho dey still dere?” a wiry, older woman asked, her eyes wide and anxious as she gazed at the burned buildings. “The black quarter still eben be dere?”

Susie hesitated. “I got news that the black quarter didn’t burn,” she said firmly. “And my friends can’t all be gone,” she said less confidently. She grew quiet as the wagon full of twenty slaves from the contraband camp neared the outskirts of town. They had loaded up the wagon and headed for the capital city as soon as they heard word of blacks pouring into Richmond from the countryside. She was the only one who knew anything about the city, but all of them were confident that there was opportunity to be found.

“I wonder if Simon is here.”

Susie looked back at June, smiling at her friend as she juggled four-year-old Simon in her arms. June’s eyes were frightened but filled with determination to find her husband. “The last letter you got from Moses said he and Simon were here in Richmond. We’ve seen black troops patrolling the roads. I believe they’re both still here.”

June tried to smile naturally, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “You think Zeke is here?”

Twenty-year-old Susie frowned slightly, her pretty face twisted with concern. “I haven’t heard from Zeke for a while, but I know it’s hard to get letters through right now. I don’t know where he is, but if he comes to the contraband camp he’ll know I came here looking for my daddy.”

June nodded. “You reckon your daddy is out of that Castle Thunder place?”

Susie nodded. “I heard it’s empty, but that doesn’t tell me where he is. They took the prisoners up toward the mountains before Richmond fell. I’m sure they’ve been released, and I’m sure Daddy will come back here, but I don’t know how long it will take.”

June laid a hand on her arm. “You’ll find him,” she said solemnly.

Susie stared at the city, remembering the day her father had been hauled off to prison for suspected spy activity — the very same day her mother died in an explosion at Tredegar Iron Works. She and her three siblings had ended up at Cromwell Plantation, away from the violence and wrapped in safety. It had done her heart good to watch her brother and two sisters grow healthy and strong from plentiful food. It took months for the haunted expression to leave their eyes, but finally laughter returned. When she met Zeke, married, and left the plantation, she promised them she would return to Richmond after the war to find their daddy.

“Where we going?” June asked. “Are we going to stay with some of your friends down in the quarter?”

Susie shook her head but didn’t say anything else. She had to get everyone else settled first. She stiffened when a soldier in Union blue approached the wagon but relaxed immediately when she saw he was black.

“Howdy,” the soldier said. “Where you folks comin’ from?”

“The contraband camp at Hampton,” Susie replied, not offering any more information.

The soldier, his eyes sharp but kind, nodded. “Lots of people comin’ into the city,” he said.

“I imagine they are,” Susie replied, sensing there was something else behind his casual conversation. “Anything we need to be aware of?”

The soldier shrugged. “Won’t everybody be glad to see you,” he commented. “The city is getting a mite crowded.”

Susie frowned. She wondered about that when she had seen the number of wagons heading toward Richmond. “Problems?”

The soldier looked at her, seeming to realize she was the leader for their small group. “You know the city?”

“I grew up here.”

The soldier nodded with relief. “Stay out of the white part right now,” he said simply. “Just take everyone directly to the black quarter. We’re keeping control of things, but they are gettin’ right tense. When it gets dark, it’s harder to watch things.”

Susie nodded. She knew exactly what he meant. There was no longer a legal curfew for blacks, but that didn’t mean you should do something stupid to put yourself at risk. “Thank you,” she said simply.

The soldier lifted his hand and rode on.

Susie turned to everyone in the wagon. “Did you hear him?” she demanded, waiting until everyone met her eyes and nodded. “We’re free, but that doesn’t mean we can stop being careful. I want all of you to be around to enjoy your freedom. Everything is still right new. I’ll make sure you’re safe, but then you’ll be the one to
keep
yourself safe.”

*******

    
     Susie and June lifted their hands and waved goodbye to the wagonload of people standing on the dusty road in front of the First African Baptist Church. They looked excited and bewildered but were already surrounded by several women from the church who assured Susie they would help them get settled. Susie had asked about her father, but no one she spoke to knew anything.

“Where are we headed?” June asked again.

Susie smiled. “Just follow me. We have enough time,” she said as she glanced at the sun still well above the horizon. She shifted her bag in her arms and headed out of the black quarter.

Two miles of walking had them approaching a hill. They had remained quiet as they passed throngs of white people on the road who stared at them with undisguised hostility but did nothing more than mutter. Susie was grateful for the presence of Union troops everywhere.

June was too busy staring at everything to utter a word since they started walking. Little Simon seemed mesmerized by all the bustle and activity, staring with frightened eyes when they passed the blackened buildings. He remained silent, just gripping his mama’s hand more tightly.

“Tired…” Simon finally said plaintively as they started up the hill.

June chuckled. “I imagine you are,” she said as she swung him up into her arms. “You’ve been such a brave boy to walk this far.”

Simon beamed. Safe in his mama’s arms, he gazed around. “Daddy here?”

June nuzzled his soft cheek. “I don’t know,” she replied. “But if he is, we’re going to find him.”

“Uncle Moses too?” Simon said hopefully.

“I don’t know that either,” June said. “We’re going somewhere we can spend the night,” she said confidently, staring at Susie as if to tell her she had better be right.

Susie smiled, hoping she wasn’t taking June on a wild goose chase that would end up with them in an area they shouldn’t be in. Unsure why, she simply felt compelled to head for Carrie’s house. She had breathed easier when she realized the fire had not spread that far. As far as she knew, Carrie may have already left town for the plantation, but still she felt compelled to go there. She had learned to follow her heart in the uncertainty of the last years, and she wasn’t going to stop now.

Both Susie and June were breathing hard when they reached the side road lined with tall trees. June stared around her. “Where are we?”

“We’re almost there,” Susie replied, gazing down the road. She didn’t see anyone at the house, but the dinner hour had almost everyone inside. The street was eerily quiet as they walked the last remaining distance. Laundry flapped in the breeze and birds sang, while the whistle of the train in the distance reminded them they were in a busy city.

Susie took a deep breath to gather her courage when they reached the familiar brick house. She walked up the stairs and knocked firmly.

The door opened moments later. An elderly black man gazed at her. “May I help you?”

Susie swallowed. “I’m here to see Carrie. Is she in?”

“Who be askin’?”

“I’m Susie.” She glanced over at June. “That’s June.”

The elderly man gazed at them sharply and then smiled unexpectedly. “Do tell? You be Susie and June?” He looked down. “Then this must be Simon.”

Susie stared at him. “Yes.” She didn’t know what else to say.

“You folks come on inside.” He smiled broadly. “I’m Miles. There be some people eatin’ supper that gonna be right glad to see all of you.”

Susie and June stared at each other but followed Miles. They both stopped and gaped when they rounded the corner into the dining room.