Read Carried Forward By Hope Online
Authors: Ginny Dye
Abby frowned. “That bad?”
Matthew nodded heavily. “That bad.”
Heavy footsteps told him he would have to talk about it soon. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to hold it in, pretending it wasn’t really happening, or if he wanted to tell it all with the hope it would lose some of its weight when it was out of his mouth. Not that it mattered. Abby, Thomas, and Jeremy needed to know.
Abby continued to watch him with concern and then pressed a kiss to his forehead, hurrying into the kitchen to let May know there would be one extra for dinner.
Thomas and Jeremy greeted Matthew and headed into the dining room.
“We’re starving!” Jeremy announced, his face flushed with excitement. He turned to Matthew. “Did Abby tell you about the equipment?”
“She did. Congratulations!”
“It’s been so amazing to see the building emerge from all that burned-out rubble,” Jeremy exclaimed. “I can hardly believe we’re just weeks away from opening. I always thought finance was satisfying, and I still feel that way, but being part of bringing a business together — especially with my brother and sister-in-law — is an amazing feeling.” He glanced fondly at Thomas and Abby, his eyes shining.
Matthew could feel Thomas preparing to ask him about his trip. “Have you heard from Carrie and Janie?” he asked. He sincerely wanted to know, but he also just wasn’t ready to talk about everything.
“Carrie is coming in on the train in three days,” Thomas answered. “Janie has decided to stay in Philadelphia,” he explained. “She is going to start at the Female Medical College in April.” He decided to let Carrie share her own news.
Matthew whistled. “Janie is going to become a doctor?”
Thomas nodded. “I know Carrie is eager to tell us the whole story when she gets here. We’re heading out to the plantation for Christmas the next day.”
Matthew stared at him. He had completely forgotten Christmas was so close. He grimaced. Could Christmas really happen in a country where so much evil was running rampant?
Thomas frowned. “Matthew? Is something wrong?”
“No talk until after dinner,” Abby said firmly. “Matthew has had a rough trip. He’s going to tell us about it, but not until he has a full stomach.”
Silence fell on the table as they ate. The wind kicked up outside the window, brushing the limbs of the magnolia trees against the screens in a weird type of orchestra. Sparks flew from the fire as gusts blew down the chimney.
Matthew felt some of the horror of the last weeks leave his body as the warmth and camaraderie soothed his soul. After so many years of living alone between assignments, it was wonderful to have a home to return to. By the time May placed coffee in front of him, he was ready to talk.
“I suspected things were going to be bad under President Johnson, but I didn’t foresee them being this bad.” He hesitated. “I think Miles and May should hear what I have to say.”
Abby got up and walked to the kitchen. Moments later Miles and May had pulled up chairs at the table, their eyes wide with questions.
“The last month has been a steady supply of one revelation after the other,” Matthew began. “None of them have been good.”
“Where have you been?” Thomas asked.
“I spent time in Georgia, North Carolina, Mississippi, and Florida. I talked to correspondents who have been in the other states to make sure I had a complete picture.” He scowled, trying to force aside his feelings for the moment as he reported what he had discovered. “There are times I truly hate politics, and this is one of them, but understanding the political scene is the only way to understand what is happening. I’ll try to make it as simple as possible.”
Miles shook his head. “Don’t you worry none, Mr. Matthew. Me and May might not speak so good yet, but we been keeping track of what be happening around the country. We read the paper every day,” he informed them.
Matthew stared at him. “You do?” He winced. “I’m sorry if I sound condescending. I know how intelligent you and May are.”
“Don’t you be worrying none. There’s still way too many of my people that gots no idea of what’s going on. I’m hopin’ that will change in time, but I don’t reckon it’s going to change fast enough for them to be ready for what’s gonna happen.”
May nodded. “You’s gonna tell us about the Black Codes, ain’t you?”
Matthew sat back in his chair and stared at her. “Yes.”
“You’s go right ahead. I’ll admit all that political talk done be real confusing. If you can make sense of it for us, I would be mighty appreciative,” May said, “but I know that don’t change what is happening.”
Thomas looked around the table. “I’m embarrassed to admit I may be the most ignorant one here. I’ve been so involved in getting the factory up and running that it has been easy to ignore what is going on in the country. I’ve enjoyed washing my hands of politics, but I have a feeling I’ve made a grave error. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I’m afraid I’m guilty of the same thing,” Jeremy admitted. “The last six weeks have been a total blur.”
“As they have been for me,” Abby added. She took a deep breath. “Tell us everything, Matthew.
“President Johnson’s Reconstruction Plan has been a complete failure,” he began. “Back in May, when he excluded Confederate leaders and disloyal wealthy planters from political affairs, there was hope there could be a true change in Southern politics.”
“Because of the pardons he required for anyone who had property worth more than twenty thousand dollars,” Thomas said.
“Yes. At first, Johnson was very cautious about granting them. By September, they were being issued wholesale — sometimes hundreds a day. Right now there are thousands of men in leadership whose only agenda is to do everything they can to rebuild the New South with the same agenda as the Old South.”
“Not all of us,” Thomas said quietly. “I received my pardon in October.”
“You are a very rare exception,” Matthew said flatly. “No one can completely understand why Johnson has abandoned the idea of depriving the prewar elite of its political and economic control. From everything I have learned, I suspect he has decided cooperation with the planters is indispensable in order to secure white supremacy in the South, as well as his own re-election.”
“Some of the fellows here in Richmond figure President Johnson be a little put off by how much we be willing to fight for our freedom,” Miles commented laconically. “He told some fellow over in England that we need to be kept in order while we ‘
receive the care and civilizing influence of dependence on the white man.’
”
He smiled at the surprised look on the faces surrounding him. “It’s just best to memorize some of what I be readin’.” He shook his head. “There’s lots of folks here in Richmond who want things to be different.”
“They’re about to get worse,” Matthew said with a scowl. “Miles is right. Our president believes only planters can supervise and control the black population. Since he believes that, he also decided the planters could not be barred from a political role in their states.” He took a deep breath. “This whole last three months has been a series of one state convention after another, followed by democratic elections because each state supposedly passed Johnson’s requirement for restoration into the Union.”
“Did they?” Abby asked. She shook her head. “I can’t believe I even have to ask that question. I should know what is going on!”
Matthew reached over and patted her hand. “It’s a full-time job to know what’s going on in our country right now. Yes, they passed the requirements, but I’d say it was more by adhering to the letter of the law. They surely have turned their noses up at the spirit of the law.” He scowled. “But then so has our president,” he said angrily. “President Johnson has made it very clear he favors a white man’s government. He has confirmed time and again that he is against giving blacks the right to vote. His stance has inspired Southern whites of all political persuasions to rally to his support.”
Abby stared at him. “What does he intend to do about winning the Northern vote?” she asked with disbelief dripping from her voice, her eyes wide and angry. “Surely he realizes he is taking a stance against everything the North fought for. Congress has just gone back into session a week ago. They will not let it stand.” She fervently hoped she was right.
Matthew shrugged. “It seems the new Southern leaders are predicting just such a breach. They are calling for the formation of a new party to rally around
their
president and sweep away everything that opposes him.”
“They’re mad,” Abby said bluntly.
“I hope so,” Matthew replied. “In the meantime, a whole series of Black Codes have already gone into effect around the South.”
“That’s what we been hearing,” Miles said. “They ain’t in Virginia yet, but I knows they talking about them.”
Thomas shook his head. “Perhaps I was unwise to step so completely out of politics. I don’t even know what you’re talking about. Keep going,” he said heavily.
“The Southern leaders have decided that since black labor can no longer be controlled by plantation owners, it must become the job of each state. They are firmly convinced that the only way to bring any kind of order back to the South is to make sure the freed slaves are still under control.”
Miles nodded. “They’s real upset that we want to control our own money. They’s also mad because we ain’t willin’ for them to have the right to beat us into doing things their way,” he said bitterly. “When Moses was here a couple weeks ago, he told me about Otis being shot ‘cause he weren’t going to let himself be whipped.” His hands trembled. “There be lots of that going on.”
Matthew clenched his fists. “He’s right. President Johnson has guaranteed the white South a virtual free hand in regulating their own internal affairs, especially in regard to the freed slaves. The South interprets state’s rights as the right and power to govern the black population as they please.” He stared into the flames of one of the lanterns for a long moment. “Enter the Black Codes. At their core is the decision to replace the old slave master with the state. The
state
will now enforce the labor contracts and plantation discipline. The
state
will punish blacks that don’t comply.”
“All they’ve done is return things as close to slavery as they can!” Abby said angrily.
“I’m afraid that’s true,” Matthew replied. He pulled out a sheet of paper. “The best way to tell you about the Black Codes is to read how they are impacting the blacks where they have been put into force. They started in Mississippi, but they are now in force throughout the entire Deep South. There are slight differences in each state, but they are all very similar.” He began to read.
‘“
All Blacks are required to possess, each January, written evidence of employment for the coming year. If they leave their jobs before their contract expires, they will forfeit wages already earned, and also be subject to arrest by any white person. If any person offers work to a laborer already under contract, they risk imprisonment or a fine of five hundred dollars.’”
“Preposterous!” Jeremy snorted.
“There is much more,” Matthew replied.
‘“
Blacks are forbidden to rent land in urban areas. Vagrancy — a crime whose definition includes the idle, disorderly, and those who misspend what they earn — can be punished by fines or involuntary plantation labor.’”
Shocked silence fell on the room.
‘“
In South Carolina blacks are barred from following any occupation other than farmer or servant unless they pay a high annual tax that very few can afford. The plantation laborers must work from sunup to sundown; and there is a ban on leaving the plantation, or entertaining guests, without the permission of the owner.’”
Matthew paused. “Florida’s code was drawn up by a commission whose report praised slavery as a
kindly institution
deficient only in its inadequate regulation of black sexual behavior.” He rolled his eyes. “They have made ‘
disobedience, impudence and disrespect to their employer a crime. Blacks who break labor contracts can be whipped, placed in stocks, or sold for up to one year’s labor.’”
“Matthew,” Abby whispered, tears filling her eyes.
Matthew folded the sheet of paper and placed it on the table. “There’s more, but I think that gives you the scope of it,” he said angrily.
“These are laws?” Jeremy asked with disbelief. “That President Johnson has approved?” He shook his head.
“Our president has lost any semblance of control over Southern politics. The sad thing is that I think he realizes it, but he has no idea how to reclaim it. He’s become little more than a puppet of the new Southern leadership.”
“
Congress
will reclaim it,” Abby retorted.
“I believe so,” Matthew agreed, “but so much damage has already been done. Congress reconvened a week ago. It remains to be seen what action they take, but it is for certain that untold numbers of black people are suffering terribly right now.”
“
Eight months
,” Abby said quietly, her voice trembling. “It was eight months ago today that President Lincoln was killed. I knew the results of his assassination would be terrible, but I didn’t envision this.” She looked at Miles and May. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so terribly sorry that your people are suffering this way.”