River

September 1811

Moses

Nadine and I have spent the day, the wedding day that the whole town has been talking about, getting the house ready for Gregor and Rosalind to receive their guests. The newly married couple will be staying here in the guest room, and Gregor has told us that we can go as soon as they return after the wedding, and need not return until the day after tomorrow. Apparently they will be leaving town in the morning to go down to Ellis Cliffs to retrieve the rest of the bride’s belongings for her, and take them to the new plantation at Homochitto where the new couple will be living after their honeymoon.

Or at least that is what I have been told. I don’t know any of these people, other than Gregor and his wife.

This is such a good position. Gregor pays Nadine and I very well, is not a bit demanding, is always cordial when he makes requests, and seems downright friendly most of the time. We try to stay out of their way as much as we can, as they are a newly married couple themselves, and still obviously in the throes of their own honeymoon period.

We’ve even been told not to bother calling them Mr. and Mrs. Slavson. No, they just want us to use their first names, as though we are all friends together. And sometimes, it does feel like it.

I know how fortunate I am. Most black men, even freed black men, find their work to be a struggle. It is often hard labor, full of painful toil. And for the enslaved, of course, done under constant threat. I actually enjoy working for Gregor, and want to do whatever I can to stay in his good graces. I would like to keep this position for a long time.

Since he asked me several weeks ago to keep my eyes out for any unwelcome visitors, I have added this to my duties, been vigilant and watchful, but have never seen anything untoward occurring.

I am just pulling some weeds in the garden, while Nadine tidies up the kitchen, when we hear the carriage pulling up to the front door.

We each immediately stop what we are doing to greet the arrivals. The newly married couple is seated inside the cab of the carriage, and I step over to open the door as soon as Gregor pulls it to a stop. He hands his wife down from the seat next to him, then wraps the horse’s reins around a post.

I assist the lady, the new bride in her ornate wedding gown, offering my hand to her as she steps down, and incline my head to the gentleman. Rosalind takes the bride inside the house with her, and Gregor indicates to the new groom that he should follow, and he will be inside in a moment.

He turns to us, a big smile on his face. It looks like the wedding must have gone well.

“A smashing success,” Gregor tells us. “Is everything ready here?”

“Yes, of course,” Nadine tells him. There is no question but that she would have arranged everything exactly right. “The guest room is ready with the bags that were dropped off earlier, and the kitchen is well stocked with everything you might need for breakfast in the morning. For dinner tonight, there is a meat pie staying warm on the stove.”

“I’ll see to the horse and carriage,” I tell him.

“Wonderful,” Gregor says. “Thanks to you both. We’ll see you in a couple of days.” He enters the house with a smile.

Nadine leaves for home, while I unwind the reins from the post, and walk beside the horse, leading him to the stables.

Thomas

It’s the day after Stephen’s wedding, and I am happy to be fulfilling my obligation to go to Ellis Cliffs for Margaret’s belongings. Gregor is riding his horse alongside the carriage, telling us an amusing tale about how one of the members of his crew lost their balance pulling their rope for the pile driver, and splashed right down into the river, to the laughter of all. Suddenly, in the middle of a sentence, he goes silent, then gallops away from us on his horse with no explanation other than to call back that he must go ahead.

Rosalind and I sit stunned for just a second, I in the driver’s seat and she inside the cab of the carriage, before she urges me to hurry. She doesn’t need to ask twice.

The carriage is slower than Issoba. Gregor has a very fast horse. We are several minutes behind when we arrive to a chaotic scene. Rosalind jumps down from the carriage and rushes off towards the house. People are gathered, some milling around, some heading away, but there is only one thing that captures my attention.

Nancy cries out to me. “Thomas! Help!”

I rush to her, and see she and her brother crouching on the ground next to someone lying motionless, and it isn’t until I arrive that I realize it is their mother. Then I see their father lying nearby, shifting around a little on the ground, his hand lifted to his face.

I join the Ellis siblings and ask in consternation, “What happened?”

Richard is too distressed to speak, and is trying manfully not to cry, his young face pale with alarm. Nancy tells me, her voice quavering, “Papa was whipping Dalila, and Mama tried to stop him, and he pushed her away and she fell down. I don’t know why she won’t get up.” There are a number of slaves milling around, and when I glance up my eyes fall on what must be the whipping post, with an alarming puddle of blood at the base. Good god.

I look closer at Mrs. Ellis and don’t see any sign of injury. “Maybe she hit her head? I can carry her into the house, we can tend her better there, all right?”

Nancy nods, her eyes brimming with tears that I wish I could wipe away for her. I can’t very well just start caressing the face of the young woman.

“What happened to your father?”

Nancy stares at me in apparent shock when she tells me, “Mr. Slavson punched him to make him stop whipping Dalila.”

Really? What the hell is happening here today? Well, one thing at a time. I see two male slaves standing nearby, and address them. “You two! See to your Master. Help him into the house.” They look at each other, clearly as shocked as everyone else at whatever mayhem has just unfolded. I see them approach him, and tentatively try to touch his arms, but he brusquely pushes them away while he sits up. Well, he seems fine.

I turn my attention back to Mrs. Ellis. She is lying utterly still and lifeless on the drive. When I look closer I believe that she is breathing, so at least there is that. I put my hands under her, and as gently as I can, gather her into my arms and then stand, slightly off balance from her slight weight as I rise. Nancy leads me into the house, with Richard following along.

I glance into the parlor as I pass by, Mrs. Ellis lolling in my arms, and see Gregor and Rosalind gathered with a couple of other people around the sofa, where I assume Dalila must be lying. I absolutely cannot fathom what has happened here today.

Nancy directs me up the stairs, and into the bedchamber where I gently lay my charge down upon the large bed. She remains unresponsive. I look up at Nancy, and our eyes meet, both of us utterly unsure as to what should be done next.

Rosalind comes into the room, clearly having followed us upstairs to see how she can help. I’m relieved when she takes charge. She asks Nancy what happened. As Nancy is briefly answering, I see the tears that have been quivering on her lashes beginning to overflow, and I cannot leave her like this alone. Appearances be damned. I don’t care if she is only fourteen and I am a man grown, and it might be seen as inappropriate for me to touch her. I am going to comfort her.

I step closer to her, reach my arm around her shoulders, and pull her closer to my side. It feels wonderful, the first time I have touched her, and I know I will always remember this bizarre moment, the circumstances that led me to this. She relaxes into my side, and I know I have done the right thing.

When Rosalind sends Richard and I away, Nancy seems to have gathered herself and is looking resolved. I think I see her maturing before my eyes, taking over the duties that she senses are being left to her. With her sister gone and her mother incapacitated, Nancy is now the lady of Ellis Cliffs.

I realize that the original purpose of the day, to transfer Margaret’s belongings to Homochitto, is still going to go forward. I stand pointlessly downstairs, observing all the activity, watching Gregor moving about the house and talking to people, wishing nothing so much as to be upstairs with Nancy. I know that I need to wait and stay out of the way.

But, I also know that I am not leaving with Gregor. I cannot leave Nancy to face this situation alone. Her mother could very well be dying. It is unclear what is wrong with her father. Her brother is too young to be of help. Nancy might be the only person in charge around here for now. I don’t know how I can help, but if my presence might be of any use to her at all, I want to be here.