A Deeper Sense of Loyalty (3 page)

“I have always defended you, Father,” he said. “I believed that the blacks were here to make a living the same as George Lynch, Darcy Davis, and all the white folks who work for us. There were times when I was in school in New York, when almost to the point of violence I denied the accusations that we were slave owners like the rest of the South. I could accept the fact that others mistreat the blacks because I realize that we cannot control what other people do. I could accept it because I believed that it had no reflection on our family. But I don't know that I could ever accept what I have seen today.”

Then it was James's turn to wait for a response. When his father started speaking again, James could clearly hear the frustration in his voice. Maybe it was because he thought he'd failed in his attempt to convince James to see the situation his way. Maybe it was because he didn't really think he should have to. James had to admit, it was probably true for most people that being safe and well provided for was what counted the most; if heads should roll to make it possible, so be it. It was obvious that his father felt that way. But James simply did not.

“Do you believe that a righteous man obeys the law, James? If it is the law of the land, established by responsible authority, does a virtuous man comply?”

“Yes, Father,” James answered.

“Then let me ask you, have you heard of the Dred Scott Decision?”

James knew where this was going but he answered, “Yes, Father. I read about it in the northern newspapers. It was handed down on March 6, 1857.”

“Yes, that is very good. According to Chief Justice Roger Taney, a slave is the property of his master. It
is
the law of the land. We are not outlaws down here, James. We are only living as did our fathers and their fathers before them.”

James was not satisfied nor would he ever be. He was sorely tempted to tell his father that he was taught at Sunday worship that there were two kinds of laws: those of man and those of God. If a righteous man had a conscience he would be more prone to following the latter. He was tempted to ask him what the bible had to say on the subject, and how did the Constitution read?  But James did not wish to call his father down in such a way, especially since he knew it would do no good. Instead he said, “Why, Father, does it have to necessitate such brutality?”

This question seemed to raise his father's spirits. It was as if he thought he might be getting his point across; his son might be beginning to accept it by way of trying to better understand. “Well, son,” he began. “I do not agree that brutality, as you say, is any intended part of the system that we have here. We simply depend on these workers to accomplish what has to be done, and in return their needs are satisfied. But the one essential part of this is authority and who controls it. We have five hundred working age males and females here, and not counting myself, there are four men to keep them in line. If not for the establishment of absolute authority we could never handle a workforce that large. It is regrettable, to be sure, but there are times when examples have got to be made. What you saw this afternoon was just that. The black man we punished is called Bo Sampson, and the truth is that he is nothing but trouble. Twice in the last six months he has run off. Last night he tried again. This time he took two others with him. When the blacks come in from the field this evening, they will all walk past Sampson. They will see once again that an attempt to run away has failed and that it is not wise to try. That is what it takes to keep order and I ask for nothing more. Most of the blacks understand that and they accept what life has given them. And that is why the ones like Bo Sampson must be subdued. It is really an effort to maintain a peaceful co-existence.”

James listened to the facts of life according to John Langdon, but he was not impressed. As his father's words and twisted rationalizations fell upon his ears, his own opinions stood their ground. How, he wondered, could this man, whom he had loved and admired since he was a small boy, attempt to justify this way of life? Had he never put himself in the place of a slave? What would he do if his freedom was taken away, if he was forced to live as his master saw fit? What would he do if his wife or his children were taken from him and sold, never to be seen again? Wouldn't he do the same as Bo Sampson? James knew that he would. And yet, his father saw Sampson as a trouble maker and had whipped him for trying to exercise the same right that God had given all men.

Now that James was painfully aware of the truth, he wondered what his own life would become. Inside, he felt torn, split down the middle as though with an axe. His love for his father reached to his very core. But to be expected to carry on the so-called Langdon family tradition was something he knew he could never do.  It seemed impossible that in the space of perhaps an hour his life had gone from wonderfully set to terribly unsettled. For now, it seemed that he only had one choice. He would pretend to try to understand the reasoning his father gave him until he had more time to think. But for the time being, there was only one other question that he had to ask. “Does Mother understand what is necessary?”

“You never knew your Grandpa Barrett, but you know that he was a lawyer in Macon. He never owned slaves. He employed a few servants, but they were white. Truthfully, he did not object to slavery. He considered blacks to be an inferior race and he did not want them in his house or around his family. I guess you could say that he was indifferent to the practice. It is probably a good thing that he felt the way he did about having slaves. I'm sure it would have caused a problem between him and your mother, the same as it has between you and me. If there is anything to genetics, and I believe there is, surely you take after your mother in many ways. I never had to ask her how she felt about slavery. That was something I could figure out for myself just by getting to know her. After we were married, we lived with Grandma and Grandpa Barrett until our house was built. From that point on, things were as they still are to this day. That is why I don't have slaves working at the house. I wanted to keep things the same as they have always been in her life. It may be true that I deceived your mother. But I did it for her because I love her.”

“Hasn't it been difficult, deceiving her I mean?”

“No. She understands that business is something that men and women do not discuss. Women leave business and politics to the men; men leave social events and all things concerning the home to the women. Speaking of social events, we should be getting back to get ready for your party.”

Ordinarily, his father's last remark would have sparked great excitement in him, but not today. But he knew that the rest of his family, not to mention his uncles and their families, were looking forward to the get together. So he had no choice except to pull himself together for their sakes and feign enthusiasm. In his mind, the revelation of the day was far from being put to rest; he wondered if his father felt the same way.

“You're right, Father. We should be getting home.” They mounted their horses and rode the rest of the way in silence.

It was almost noon when they reached the barn. George was cleaning stalls when they arrived; he took their horses, unsaddled them, and gave them a rubdown. James and his father went straight to the house to get ready for the party.

By one o'clock, the guests had arrived and a very lively gathering it was. Even James's mood had improved in spite of himself as he greeted relatives he had not seen in months. Naturally, he was especially glad to see his cousins, enjoying the company of young men close to his age. Ashton and Kate had looked forward to seeing Jenny and Bret; the older folks were elated as well.

After a meal that would have pleased royalty, Olivia, the family's cook, brought in a beautiful birthday cake with eighteen candles and set it on the table in front of James. At that moment he had almost forgotten the unpleasant experience he had gone through earlier that day.  But when his father said, “Make a wish, son,” it all came flooding back. He looked up, and for an uncomfortable instant their eyes locked, and the smile slowly disappeared from his father's face. Grateful that birthday wishes were never spoken, James blew out the candles in one breath, hoping that it meant his wish would come true.

When the gifts had all been opened, which included, among some other very nice things, a new saddle and a .45 caliber revolver, the gathering broke up into smaller groups for the purpose of deep conversation. The ladies and the girls settled themselves in the parlor. James and the rest of the young men gathered out on the veranda. John took his brothers, who were also plantation owners, out to the barn for a smoke and a look at a handsome stallion he'd just purchased from a farm in Kentucky.

 

Although a smoke and the new horse were of legitimate interest, the three men had more important things that they were anxious to discuss.

Once inside the barn, Stanley and Joseph found some empty nail kegs, put them side by side, and sat down. John did likewise, placing his makeshift seat in front of his brothers. Then he handed each of them a cigar and lit one for himself. John took the first turn to speak. “I feel that there is no need to say it, but the future is very uncertain for us all. If Abraham Lincoln is elected in November, I would bet all I own that secession will follow.”

“And that will be followed by war,” said Stanley.

“I don't know,” replied Joseph. “I still think if it comes to secession the North might let us leave peacefully. Why, I've read in the papers that Lincoln is not exactly what you would call a nigger lover. He opposes the expansion of slavery but that might be just a political move to placate those damn abolitionists.”

“Maybe,” said Stanley. “But if he does get elected, who knows what he'll do. Of course going to war would be a pretty radical step to take for the likes of a race of inferiors like these niggers.”

“I'm afraid I have to disagree with you, Joseph,” said John. “Slavery be damned. It will be the dissolution of the Union that will cause the war. There isn't any way Lincoln will let that happen without a fight. The chances are better that the South will choose not to secede, and I don't think there is any chance of that at all. No, brothers. I think our only hope is if Lincoln fails to get elected. But I don't think we should concern ourselves with that. We need to look beyond it and stay one step ahead. What we must do is prepare as if we know that it is inevitable. We must devise a plan to keep our plantations running no matter what. If war comes, we must keep the economy strong and that means business must continue as usual.”

“How do we do that?” asked Stanley.

“The first thing,” John replied, “will be to talk to our overseers and the rest of our men and find out what their intentions are. If war breaks out, will they go off to fight or will they stay at their jobs? I think that Farley will probably stay but Thomas, Milo, and Sam are younger and are more likely to be up to the adventure; you both employ young men as well. It is not always easy now to keep the niggers in line. We can't afford to lose anybody. We might even need to consider hiring some men. A war could give the niggers ideas.”

“I almost wish I could find someone to take
my
place,” said Stanley. “I wouldn't mind taking a shot at a Yankee myself.”

“I know how you feel,” John answered. “But if war is declared men will be climbing over each other to join up. I think they can handle the job without us. Besides, if there is a war, I don't believe that it would last more than a month or so.”

“You're right, John,” said Joseph. “I'll wager that if we bloody their noses good and proper they'll head north as fast as they can and stay there.”

“I hope that you're right, Joseph,” said Stanley. “But I think we need to consider the strengths of the North compared to our own. They have long since industrialized while we have remained with our traditional system. How long could we defend ourselves against invasion?”

“And I say it will not happen that way,” Joseph retorted. “If we show them we mean business they'll leave us alone. Besides, I've heard that there is a possibility that England will intervene on our behalf. Our cotton is very important to their mills.”

“What if they don't?” argued Stanley. “What if the war drags on longer than we think? What if the North gets the idea to block our port cities? If we couldn't ship and we couldn't receive they could choke us to death.”

“Then we will run the blockade,” answered Joseph.

“Well,” John interrupted, “for now we cannot count on anything or assume anything. That is why we have to take any precautions that we can and then wait to see what happens in November. To make one thing perfectly clear, like you boys, I would stop at nothing to protect my family and my interests.”

In unison, John's brothers voiced their agreement with his statement.

“I can tell you one thing,” said Stanley. “If there is a war, I won't be able to keep Clark and Jessie out of it.”

“I know what you mean,” Joseph replied. “Neither Franklin or Jefferson would be old enough for the army, but if it comes to war, they will find a way.”

Then, looking at John, he asked. “How does James feel about it all?” John wanted nothing more than to assure his brothers that James would be ready at the first bugle call, but he thought about what had happened that morning and said, “You've both heard me talk about Bo Sampson?” They nodded in reply.

“Well, he ran off again last night—or at least he tried to. What's worse, he took two other nigger men with him, two that had never given me trouble before. Anyway, Farley and the boys caught up with them a couple of hours later. This morning, we bullwhipped Sampson until he couldn't stand up. James saw it happen. He's never disobeyed me before but he's eighteen now and I guess he figured everything has changed.”