John placed the missive on the well-oiled desk, the late afternoon sun streaming in from the window, casting golden light into the room. Molts of dust danced within the molten light, swirling with the currents of air caused from the disturbance of the two people. With unspoken agreement, John waited with Mary for his son, he too knew it was bad news and did not have the strength to open and read the dispatch.
Nerves were stretched raw, both jumped when the front door slammed shut, heralding Theo’s arrival. His tall form came swiftly into the study, seeing first Mary, then his father, noting their tense faces. Theo’s eyes found the sachet on his father’s desk and Mary saw him blanch. It could only be bad news and Mary knew he too felt reluctant to open Pandora’s Box.
Wiping his dusty hand on his britches, he tentatively picked up the envelope, looking it over before opening it. Mary held her breath as she waited for the news. When she saw Theo’s shoulders slump in defeat, she felt as thought the wind was knocked out of her. She knew it was bad news, and her heart went out to her this man, she had hoped against hope that it wasn’t so.
Theo’s voice held no emotion as he read the letter aloud, “It’s from Maj. Gen. Stuart’s aide, he says that Todd Randal Anderson was killed in York county, Hanover. It says that they were trying to push back a Union Calvary regiment when Brig. Gen Farnsworth’s brigade attacked. Todd had saved Maj. Gen. Stuart’s life by taking a bullet meant for the Major General. He sends his deepest appreciation and condolences. It goes on to extol Todd’s bravery.” Theo ended bitterly, flinging the offending sheet to the floor.
Walking over to the sideboard, he opened a decanter of peach whisky, pouring himself and his father a tumbler. Walking over to the desk, he handed his father the glass. He went back to retrieve his own glass then sought out a chair to sit. Mary left the room, her heart heavy. She didn’t know Todd very well; he was a grown man before she was born and seldom came to visit. It had been the same with Samuel. Only Theo had been there, she’d grown up with him. Theo and Henry were about the same age. She had even played with Theo on occasion, when she was small. He had given her rides on his shoulders. And had let her chase him about the yard. But the older brothers were strangers to her.
Mary knew that Todd’s wife, Alison would be distraught. She had gone north to New Jersey to live with her parents while her husband was away. Their farm had been left in the hands of the overseer and his family. She had taken both her sons, fearing for their lives, should they be caught in the skirmishes. It had been a smart move on their part, but had left Victoria and John heartbroken.
Mary knew that John or Theo would write and send the missive along, to inform Alison of her husband’s death, if she didn’t know already. Mary had never cared for Alison; the woman was spiteful and used her children to get what she wanted from Victoria. She had sent no reply to Mary’s letter, informing her of Victoria’s death. The woman had given Mary the evil eye when Victoria had shown affection to Mary. No, Mary didn’t care for Alison at all, but she did feel sorrow for Todd’s grown children. They would miss their father.
Mary walked down to the slave quarter to find Liza, who was taking care of the children. She found Liza out in the yard with her two, along with Nan’s four boys. Their laughter brought a smile to Mary’s weary mind. It had been so nice lately; the pall of sadness had lifted and now this. She knew that the war was for her freedom, but it had come at a very high cost. She thought of Nan and her babies. When she looked at the children playing before her, she thought perhaps it was worth it. To see all of their children free. To live their lives on their own terms and to have autonomy over their own futures. To not fear separation due to someone else’s whim. Never to be beaten because you didn’t work hard enough or broke something due to an accident.
Since Clark’s death, no one had been beaten, their lives had settled into a rhythm of cooperation. They’d banded together to keep each other safe from the aggression that had headed their way from both armies. But they were still in bondage, they were still owned. Mary didn’t know if it would happen in her lifetime, but she hoped that her children would see freedom one day. It was coming at a heavy cost, but it was right, it was just. No one had the right to own another human being. Mary was sorry for the loss of both brothers, but she was not sorry that her children had a chance to be free. Around them was war and they each held their breaths, waiting for the outcome.
At night, they could hear cannon fire, far in the distance, it rolled like summer thunder. Sporadically, throughout the day, the soft popping sound of musket fire could be heard. It sent chills through Mary, knowing that people were dying in those moments. She wished she could go and fight too at times. But she knew she couldn’t leave her babies.
Word reached the farm, the fighting was intensifying, they dare not go to Savannah for fear of being shot in crossfire, or
