“That won’t be necessary. Moses can see to the wagon and the animals.” She turned to Carolina. “Please bring some cool water for Cousin Eunice. You may take Lottie with you to the kitchen and offer her some as well.”
The three servants followed her instructions while Eunice ascended the steps, out of breath when she reached the top.
“I see you managed to hold on to some of your slaves, what with the Yankees trying to turn ’em all loose every which way.” She shook her head as she practically fell onto a wicker sofa. “It t’aint right, I tell you.” She fanned herself, wafting her pungent scent toward Natalie. “The judge would have something to say to those northern devils were he alive. He paid good money for those slaves, same as your pappy.”
“I was sorry to hear of his passing.” Natalie was already weary from the woman’s grumblings. She knew she should invite Eunice to stay overnight, but she couldn’t help hoping the travelers were simply stopping to rest before continuing to their destination.
Carolina arrived with a glass of water, which Eunice gulped down. After wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she said, “I’m glad my husband didn’t live to see this day.” The sound she made spoke her disgust. “Yankees swarming Texas, setting all them Negroes free. These are sad times for our state, I tell you.”
“You are of course welcome to stay the night with us.” Natalie hoped her true wishes weren’t detectable in the invitation. “Although I’m sure you are anxious to continue your journey. Where is it you’re going?”
Eunice stared at Natalie as though she’d been out in the sun too long.
“Where am I going? Why, here, of course!” Eunice let out a high-pitched cackle, as though Natalie’s question were beyond silly. “My dear, I have come to live at Rose Hill.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
With the sun barely topping a rosy eastern horizon, Levi and Banks made their way to Rose Hill along rain-rutted roads. A fierce storm had blown through during the night, damaging many of the tents where his men slept and leaving debris scattered throughout the Langford plantation. Although he knew Natalie had ample help with Moses, his men, and the new field workers, Levi felt the need to see for himself that all was well with the widow. Her property was, for the time being, the responsibility of the Union Army.
“I thought we might get blown all the way down to old Mexico last night,” Banks said as they maneuvered their mounts around several fallen branches from a copse of live oak trees. Leaves littered the road until it was almost indistinguishable from its surroundings.
Levi surveyed the mess. “I don’t suppose riding out the storm in a tent was much fun.”
“No, sir. I’m sure I heard a few of the boys crying for their mamas at the worst of it.”
Levi chuckled. “It’ll take the better part of the day to get things in order back at camp. I’d hoped to send units to the farms north of here, but I suppose that’ll have to wait.”
He let out a frustrated sigh. Bringing news of freedom to Texas slaves was their first priority. The joyful cries of hundreds of Negroes who’d heard the proclamation still echoed in his memory, but there were many more who had yet to receive the good news. The unexpected delay brought on by the storm meant one more day in bondage for those men and women.
Despite the damage around them, the rain-washed countryside looked fresh and bright, bathed in early morning sunshine. Sweet air filled their lungs while birdsong met their ears. Although he wasn’t pleased about the delay in their mission, he couldn’t help acknowledging that a valid excuse to visit Rose Hill—and its mistress—had been delivered to him during the night.
“I remember a bad storm rolled through while we were waiting to attack Fort Wagner,” Banks said, gazing off toward the east, a solemn look on his face. “Some said it was a sure sign we were going to lose.”
Had someone else been listening, they might have thought the comment strange. But Levi knew memories from the war often sprang up at odd times, as this one just had for Banks. Sometimes he and his fellow soldiers shared them, sometimes they didn’t.
Levi knew the battle he spoke of. The Fifty-Fourth Massachusetts, an all-black company, penetrated the fort after a brigade of Federal troops unsuccessfully assaulted the strongpoint guarding Charleston Harbor a few days prior. Their victory, however, was short-lived. Reinforcements were slow in coming, and the Confederates retook the fort. Banks’ unit suffered enormous losses. Levi could only imagine the carnage the corporal witnessed in the surgical tent.
“Colonel Shaw was a good man,” was all Levi said. He’d never met Shaw, the son of an abolitionist who’d organized and led the Union’s first black regiment, but he’d heard much about the man. Shaw fell during the battle for the fort. The newspapers said the Confederates stripped his body and threw it into a grave with dead Negro soldiers in a mark of contempt for this white officer’s championing of blacks. But Shaw’s father said it best when he declared he could imagine no holier resting place for his son, nor better company.
Neither said any more about the battle, but unspoken memories of the war hovered on the edge of the silence, always there. Levi wondered how many years it would take to forget what they’d seen and done the past four years. Perhaps they’d never forget.
The gleaming white plantation house came into view, but even at a distance, Levi saw that Rose Hill had undergone far more damage than the Langford place. Pieces of roofing were scattered throughout the yard, and tree branches lay about. A giant oak had fallen, barely
