Candle in the Darkness - Lynn N. Austin [179]
“Something smells good,” Caroline said, sniffing the air. “What’s baking in the cast-iron oven?”
“Oh, that’s just some sweet potatoes I’m fixing with sorghum and spices and such. Thought it might taste a little bit like sweet potato pie . . . without the crust, since there ain’t much flour.”
Against her will, Caroline thought of Charles and his family again. Their flour mills had been at a near standstill ever since the wheat harvests in the Shenandoah Valley had been lost to the enemy. Tessie heard through the slave grapevine that Mr. St. John had hired Josiah out to labor in the mines somewhere to earn extra money. Tessie hadn’t seen her husband since the night he’d brought Charles to the hospital. Yet in all the years that Tessie had spent apart from Josiah, Caroline had never heard her complain or seen her shed tears. She longed to ask Tessie what the secret was to forgetting. How much time had to pass before she would stop thinking of the man she loved every hour of every day, wondering where he was, what he was doing?
When their simple meal was on the table, ready to eat, Eli climbed up to the loft to wake Gilbert, who had been allowed to sleep late. The two men took turns staying awake all night, guarding Caroline’s property—and especially their meager supplies of food and firewood. Starving souls roamed the besieged city at night, stealing from anyone who had a little more than they did.
When everyone was seated around the table, Eli spoke the blessing. “Lord, I thank you for this food, and I ask you to bless those sorry folks who don’t even have this much. I thank you that Massa Lincoln won the election up north, cause he promise to set all us colored folks free. I thank you for sending your Son on this happy day and for loving us so much you adopt us into your family. Thank you, Massa Jesus. Amen.”
Caroline looked around at her servants and silently thanked God that they had adopted her into their family. Her own mother and father may have both chosen to leave her, but Tessie and Eli had stayed, even when it meant giving up their chance at freedom. She remembered her conversation with Eli a long time ago about Rahab the spy, who had betrayed her city, but who later became part of Christ’s family. Maybe Eli was right; maybe God did give something in return for what was lost.
“I’m thinking this war is just about over,” Eli said as they ate. “Ain’t that right, Missy?”
“Yes,” she replied, “anyone who’s realistic and has read about all the defeats we’ve suffered lately knows that it’s nearly over. And that the South has lost.”
According to the papers, General Sherman had just made good on his promise to deliver the city of Savannah to President Lincoln for a Christmas gift. But news of the desolation Sherman had left in his wake made Caroline disgusted with the Yankees. As much as she longed to see the slaves emancipated, she hated that it had cost such a staggering price.
“Now that our freedom is almost here,” Eli continued, “we have to start thinking about the future—what we all gonna do once we free. And most important, what job God asking us to do for Him. I think we should go round the table and let each person say what they dreaming about. Then we know how to pray for each other in the New Year.”
Heads nodded in agreement as Eli looked around the table at everyone. Caroline had never told any of her servants that her punishment for spying was going to be exile. If the war didn’t end before spring, before the next prisoner exchange, she would very likely be banished from her home in Richmond and sent north. But as she listened to her servants’ dreams for the future, she decided not to spoil the day by telling them what awaited her.
“All right then,” Eli said. “Guess I’ll go first . . . When I’m a free man I want to start a church where I can preach about the love of Massa Jesus. I believe He wants me to help all the colored folk learn how to serve their new Massa.” He turned to Esther, seated beside him.
“Now, Eli,” she said with a frown. “You know the Lord ain’t giving me no fancy plans like yours.