A Sound Among the Trees (31 page)

18 May 1862
Holly Oak, Fredericksburg, Virginia

Dear Eleanor
,

Will is recovering from a fever. Grandmother put him in my bed, and I have been made to sleep with Eliza. The Confederate uniforms are still buried inside my bed. But I suppose it will not be the end of all things if Will discovers them. Eliza had me hide them for Will and John anyway. They were the two men she hid in Tessie’s cabin the night I followed her
.

I miss Tessie. I wonder if she misses us. Probably not
.

I will finish this letter later. Eliza found some stray hens and their chicks out along the river this morning. We need to find a way to hide them
.

Seven o’clock
.

The chickens are in the attic. Eliza made a hole in the roof to let sunlight in and covered it with a pane of glass she took from the carriage house. It is my job to make sure the hens stay quiet and happy. We made a dirt floor for them to peck at, and after supper I had the unfortunate task of catching crickets and grasshoppers for them. We can only spare so much corn. We hope and pray the hens will lay eggs for us
.

Will’s fever returned this afternoon, and he was most angry about it since he and the others are to leave soon. I brought him a basin of cool water and a cloth, and I confess I found much enjoyment sitting at his side, soothing his brow with my cloth
.

He told me fever or no fever, he’s getting up tomorrow, and I told him even soldiers can’t tell a fever what to do. That made him smile. “When did you grow up, Susannah? You’re not the girl I chased with a lizard.”

I smiled back at him. “I would guess if you had a lizard to chase me with, I would still run.”

“You must have a string of beaus writing you letters from battle,” he said, still smiling
.

And my heart seemed to take a stutter step. “No,” I told him. I didn’t tell him about Lt. Page. I didn’t want to think about Lt. Page at that moment
.

“Surely at least one,” he continued. “Your grandmother tells me a certain lieutenant is sweet for you. Wants to marry you.”

My face roared with anger and color. “She … she is … I am not …” But Eleanor, I couldn’t finish! How could Grandmother have said such a thing? It was not her place to say it. And yet Grandmother does not know I love Will. And she thinks I will accept Lt. Page’s proposal of marriage. She thinks it’s just a matter of time before I will
.

“So, the lieutenant’s sweet for you, but you are not sweet for him,” Will said, assessing my stuttering to silence. “You are sweet for someone else perhaps?”

I could do nothing but stroke his brow with my cloth. Words utterly failed me. The door opened, and I was at first glad for the interruption. Eliza came in bearing a tea tray. But then I saw Will’s eyes brighten at her approach. His body, so close to mine, seemed to
tense with veiled anticipation regarding her presence. Surprise walloped me
.

And I seemed to sink into a gray place of denial, sitting there on my bed with Will lying inches from me, and him watching my aunt cross the room with a tray in her hands. I did not want to accept what I was seeing
.

Eliza set the tray down and left with barely a word. And for that small miracle, I was grateful
.

She is not in love with him, Eleanor. But I think he might be in love with her
.

Susannah

29 May 1862
Holly Oak, Fredericksburg, Virginia

My dear Eleanor
,

Will and John have left, along with the other soldiers who were staying here, and Holly Oak is ours alone once again. More soldiers came after the scouting party left, wanting to sleep in our bedrooms, but Grandmother told them no. I worried that they might insist, but they didn’t. They went to the house next to ours, and I saw them go inside. I don’t know why they were allowed in. Surely our neighbors put up the same resistance
.

The curfew is still in effect, and Yankee soldiers still walk the streets, bored, but there aren’t as many. Many of them are staying on the hill across the river, including the commanding officers, at the Lacy house. We hear the Lacys have left. Other Fredericksburg families have left too. Grandmother says we will never leave Holly Oak
.

There are cooking fires at the slaves’ quarters at the edge of the garden again. Negroes making their way north are spilling into occupied Fredericksburg to rest, organize, and disperse for destinations they have probably dreamed of their whole lives. At first Grandmother said she would not allow runaway Negroes to sleep in our slave quarters, but this was something she could only complain about while we women ate together in the pantry. There was nothing she could do about it. Eliza told Grandmother she could not stop what was happening by simply ordering it not to happen
.

After supper yesterday, Eliza took me down to the slaves’ quarters to see if those who were staying there for the night needed anything. There was a Negro woman with a new baby who was very ill. The baby was weak with hunger and listless. Eliza handed me the baby and asked me to go ask all those staying in our slaves’ quarters if there was a nursing mother who could feed the child while she tried to help the woman eat something. She pushed me out the door before I could protest
.

I did what she asked, but there was no one who could feed the child. I took the baby up to the house, and Grandmother tried to feed it some watered porridge, but the infant could not swallow it. Grandmother told me the child would likely not last the night and that I should take it back to its mother so that it would die in her arms, not mine
.

I went back to Eliza and the sick mother. Eliza was mopping the woman’s dark brow with cool water, and the woman kept whispering, “My child, my child.” And Eliza told her I was right there in the room with her and I was holding her baby. Eliza started to sing to her. And to the baby. To me too, I think. And I fell asleep in Tessie’s rocker with the baby in my arms
.

When I awoke in the gray light of dawn, the baby was stiff in my arms. The mother had also died in the night. Eliza took the baby
from me and placed the child in the dead mother’s embrace. Two Negro men took two of our shovels and went to dig a grave for them at the slaves’ cemetery at the edge of town. We asked them if they knew the dead mother’s name, and they said they did not. No one else did either. Eliza told them to give the mother her name, Elizabeth. And to make sure someone put up a marker for her and the baby
.

I went into the house with the weight of the dead child still in my arms. My hair had fallen from its pins and was tumbling about my shoulders, my dress was wrinkled, and I smelled of campfire
.

I could not get the smell of smoke out of my hair and skin. I can still smell it. And I have bathed twice
.

Now that the Yankees are gone, we are getting news from the outside again. A newspaper from Richmond reached us today, nearly a month old. I could not bear to read the front page. A Union spy posing as a secessionist was hung in Richmond. Eliza read it, but I think she had already heard of this man’s execution before. She did not seem surprised. And she would not speak to me of it, not even in whispers
.

Susannah

17 June 1862
Holly Oak, Fredericksburg, Virginia

Dearest Eleanor
,

There are fewer Yankee troops in Fredericksburg, but those that are here are still looking to us for meals and soap and lamp oil. The chickens have soiled the attic beyond belief, but at least we have eggs. Several of the chicks are roosters. Perhaps, if we can keep their
crowing from drawing attention, we will soon have more chicks and then something besides cured ham to eat
.

The time I used to spend sewing uniforms I now spend tending Cook’s vegetable garden. Half of what I planted has shriveled and died or been eaten by rabbits. I don’t know how Cook managed to grow anything. Eliza says it doesn’t matter how much I lose to my ineptness or the rabbits; it only matters how much I can save. At least the trees in the orchard are faring well. We shall have peaches, if not carrots and peas
.

Negroes continue to move in and out of Holly Oak’s slave quarters. I think word has traveled—albeit quietly—that if you are a contraband on your way north, there is a house in Fredericksburg where you can rest and gather your family members together. That house is our house. Eliza is down there every night making sure there are no quarrels or hurting children or hungry souls. I go with her sometimes
.

The haberdashery is open again, but Yankee customers must pay for what they want. Business is actually good, but there isn’t much to buy with the gold they pay us, nor will we be able to restock the inventory we have sold. At least not for a while. The Yankee soldiers are the only men in town, and when you own a men’s haberdashery, that makes a difference. Eliza refuses to be genial with the Yankees who come to the store; she treats them with the same disdain as do all the other shopkeepers who were treated poorly during the first days of the occupation. I do not think it is an act for the other townspeople. She is highly aware of what would happen if her liaisons were found out. We do not speak of it, she and I. Mama doesn’t seem to know or care. And Grandmother doesn’t want to know and asks no questions
.

We are being pressed by the Union soldiers who are still here to declare our loyalty to the Union. Some townspeople have been ordered to sign oaths of allegiance. As if you can obtain allegiance
by brute force. I told Eliza this was a very strange concept—the idea of forcing someone to be loyal to you. And she just said, in that way of hers when I say something she finds silly, that it’s been happening in the South since the first slave ship docked
.

I have had no word at all from Lt. Page
.

Susannah

20 July 1862
Holly Oak, Fredericksburg, Virginia

My dear cousin
,

Will and John were here again. I think perhaps I was not meant to see them. They came in the early morning hours. I had awakened before the sun and was making tea when I heard low voices in the parlor. I found them there with Eliza. She was fully dressed and so were they, although they were unshaven and dirt covered. And there I was in my dressing gown. They looked surprised and Eliza looked annoyed. She told me I may as well make them tea too. When I came back with a tray, I think they had discussed what they needed to and had made a point to be finished when I reentered the room
.

After only a sip of tea, John asked to be able to shave and bathe, and he and Eliza left to see about hot water. Will sipped his tea slowly as he watched them leave. It stung a little, watching him watch Eliza
.