BACK HOME CONTINUE
“Mr. Matthews, sir,” Miss Philip's hollow voice echoed in the empty room, making my heart skip a beat as she startled me, “Your breakfast is well served and on the meal table, as well as a letter that arrived this morning.”
I happened to be laying on my comfy bed daydreaming and glancing awkwardly up at the ceiling when Miss Philips pranced into the room announcing my good fortune. I, of course, already knew whom the letter was from; my old schoolmate and bosom friend. But after those school years had passed, we parted to different sides of the country; he to the South, whereas I to the North. However we continued to keep in touch by sending letters to each other; back and forth and back and forth.
“Thank you kindly, Miss Philips,” I replied after a breeze of silence, “I shall be down in a moment. I need a bit of time to get ready.”
She nodded quickly and shuffled out of the room. Using my arms to push me up, I slowly stood up out of the warm bed I had rested in for hours and traveled to my outhouse where I could wash up; the whole time dragging my feet across the floor. I snatched my loose pants and gray stockings and put them on (a little faster than my brain could think at that moment) followed by my sack suit and waistcoat. I didn't bathe because I had already bathed that week. At least now people had more sense than to bathe just once a year! I would definitely die if I had to live like that! I kept rushing because I wanted to get downstairs where my letter awaited me. I tended to act like a b'hoy when my letter arrived.
I finished up by taking a wet comb to detangle my knotty hair (it was always messy in the morning). Then my steady feet carried me down the stairs where I could see my breakfast sitting on the meal table with the letter leaning on the edge of the dish, and a lard-oil lamp brightening up the table (electricity had been invented before but I couldn’t bear to give away my lard-oil lamp. It was my Christmas present a few years back). As I sat down to a creamy batter cake bite, I unwrapped the letter:
My Dearest Isaac,
I am so terribly sorry about you not receiving the arrival of this reply as quickly as you would have hoped. You see, I am very overwhelmed by having to put up with two new slaves.
Oh! Have I told you?; I bought them last Wednesday. Their names are Martin and Josephine; husband and wife. Martin is absolutely wonderful in the gardens and the harvest fields. I shall tell you from time to time that he is one of the best behaved slaves I have ever owned! Josephine is an excellent maid and a cook. Her work is greatly done indoors. I still cannot be over fancying the price that I sold Sam and William for; what a deal! However, Sam had cholera. Luckily, he didn't have it that bad; if you're unfortunate it could kill within a few hours. It's been spreading over everyone. I sometimes worry about it and if I shall catch it.
How is Miss Philips doing? I still do not understand this shocking fact about you, Isaac; Why do you pay her for doing a worker’s job? Well, I guess you wouldn’t pay her if she were black, now would you? Of course not!
Well, I am sorry about this letter being so miniature, but I must be off for supper. Josephine has just placed it on the meal table. I hope you are well and write back soon.
So long,
Robert Post
By the time I finished skimming through the letter, I was surprisingly putting the last bite in my mouth, for I had always been a fast eater. But Oh Lord! My napkin cloth was still laying on the surface of the table instead of gracefully tucked in the front of my chest; how foolish! I didn’t fiddle with it, however, because I had just swallowed the last of breakfast with a swig of creamy milk. Every time I read one of Robert’s letters, I got so into it, like a fool, that I was amazed each time. He is such a good writer, and I noticed this again in his letter.
I stood up rather quickly from my chair with the letter grasped tightly in my hand and left Miss Philips to care for my dirty dishes (I was the only one, other than her, in the house) as I leapt for the stairs to get to my writing desk. As I took in a few breaths, I dipped my quill pen in ink and began to write:
My Dearest Robert,
It is Thursday morning; what a magnificent morning it is! The sun is shining over my paper as I write this now. How is the weather where you are? Good, I hope. I trust that, if there is any rain, your harvest shall be grand this year. It seems so amazing to be a farmer!
Am I wrong to pay Miss Philips? She is so helpful to me, being my cook and maid, how could I not give her anything in return? What do you give Martin and Josephine in return for their work if you do not pay them or give them freedom?
Well, I suppose I was a bit shocked about receiving your letter so much later than I thought I would get it, however I understand your full schedule. I’m surprised a man like you has the time to write any letters at all; especially back and forth with an old friend and schoolmate. My, it has been so long since we’ve parted, my friend.
How is your family? Your mother, father, and sisters, Elizabeth and Clara? My mother wishes you good luck with your farm this year. Father is fine, as well as Mother. They are both in good health, as always. I miss them. As you know, they live a few cities away. I trust that yours are in good health, as well.
I wish so much to know where Sojourner Truth is now. She has been to so many places in the country, that she seems to be everywhere at once nowadays! I hear that she is a fantastic speaker. I do wish to hear one of her speeches some day; imagine what a gleeful experience that would be! Keep writing and good luck with your farm.
Yours Truly,
Isaac Matthews
~*~
That night, a thought disturbed me and would not get out of my head. It was saying continuously:
What will you do when Robert finds out that you‘re going to Sojourner Truth‘s speech? He will be firing mad! You will have to tell him sometime. Don't be a coot! Tell him how you feel! Right now!
I started to get very frustrated with myself and squeezed my face to my pillow until it felt like all of my blood drained out. I finally got so tired and my hands grew weak from pressing so hard that I fell asleep into darkness.
~*~
The next morning while I was eating my breakfast Miss Philips told me what she had heard about Sojourner Truth’s next speech. All she could say was, “This May; May of 1851.” She didn’t have the day. It could be any time from the beginning of two weeks from today to the end of May. I thanked her for the information she had gathered and even though it would probably be a long time away, I started feeling jumpy and excited in a way that makes your stomach do a flip around and then over again. I was actually going to hear Sojourner Truth speak (if I could ever figure out the day)! I couldn’t hold still at all!
~*~
Approximately two long weeks had passed before I received another letter from Robert. I read it quickly at my writing desk. The desk was bare but very dusty from all of the piles of stacked books I had just taken out of storage and the dust was blowing in my eyes and all across the letter as I read it:
Dear Isaac,
You seem to have spread luck right over me, the farm, and the weather! We have been getting plenty of rain; my slaves walk foolishly around trying to catch raindrops on their tongues with an open mouth! Although, the pollution is a bit filthy here because of all of the new factories. There is plenty of land here as well as people who need work, so they have been building more and more of them. Martin is outstanding with his work! Even with the help of other slaves, it’s hard work. Oh, if only you could see how wet and green it is here; what a marvelous sight! Of course, it is often like this here in Virginia.
My mother and father are both fine. They haven’t had any health problems at all. Well, my father has almost quit smoking. I am very upset with Clara, however; she has moved from here to the North and is against slavery now. Poor Elizabeth! She and Clara were as close to each other as two sisters could be. It is such a shame that Clara has chosen to turn against what her family believes in, as well as destroying a life-long friendship with Elizabeth. Don’t you agree?
Why are you interested in Sojourner Truth? No one should pay attention to such worthless speeches. But don’t you worry now. I don’t think you will want to waste your time on her. Trust me.
I give a lot to Martin and Josephine! I give them their own little shack to eat and sleep in, water whenever they need it, and two full meals a day! That is a lot to give a slave! Is that not too generous?
Don’t worry about me not having time to write you letters; I have plenty of time. Whenever I am not in town, with friends, or out with the slaves I have time. Well, it was nice writing to you; reply soon.
Yours Always,
Robert Post
Ha! He thinks that sleeping on a pile of straw is all that his slaves deserve! And they slave away all day in the corn fields; all day! I had to admit that I was very upset with the way that he insulted Sojourner Truth. I was starting to sour on with Robert. I felt like I wanted to burst open like an old carnival balloon! But he was not to upset me! I had my mind set on going to her speech and that was what I was going to do!
I sure hoped that President Lincoln would do something about this slavery business. Some people, like Robert, were keeping their slaves illegally. He had already passed the Emancipation Proclamation, but obviously that wasn’t enough. We needed more than just abolishing slavery through the Thirteenth Amendment. Maybe we needed another amendment...
~*~
“Mr. Matthews,” Miss Philips declared the next day, as she sat in the Windsor Chair, “Mr. Watson, the barber, has something to say to you.”
“What is this all about?” I was very curious now and wanted to know, there and then, what was going on.
“Well, I'm not sure, sir. He wants you to see him.”
~*~