Page 30 of Under the Tulip Tree
“Have you ever met anyone who lived to tell about the War between the States?” Frankie directed her question to me.
“My grandma was born right before the war began, so she doesn’t remember anything about it. Some of my great-uncles fought in it, but...” I gave a small shrug, knowing my ancestors had been Confederates. I’d never been ashamed of that fact until this very moment. Had they, like the menwho’d owned Frankie, believed it was their right to keep people in bondage? To beat innocent children? To murder?
Frankie nodded, no doubt guessing why I didn’t finish my thought. “It’s a terrible thing when countrymen fight against one another. Yet, if them Yankees hadn’t come to Nashville, I would’ve been a slave a whole lot longer.”
“Weren’t you afraid of the soldiers, Mama Fran?” Jael’s eyes grew wide.
Frankie took a bite of chicken before giving an answer. She wiped her mouth on a napkin, then sat back in the chair and looked out the kitchen window to blue sky. “I was terrified, baby girl. ’Course, they weren’t the first soldiers I’d seen. Up till then, the Confederate Army held Nashville, so I was used to seeing soldiers in gray. We’d heard rumors the Yankees were coming, but I don’t think we believed it until they were practically on our doorstep, camped right across the Cumberland. All them boys in gray hightailed it south, leaving the city unprotected. People filled the streets, running and screaming. Wagons piled high with household belongings clogged the roads headed out of town. Them that couldn’t leave barricaded themselves in their homes.”
She looked at Jael, then to me. “Mr. Waters was desperate to vacate the city and planned to take me with him. If I recall correctly, his wife had kin in North Carolina and they intended to go there. But he didn’t want the Yankees to get hold of his inventory, so we were delayed while wagons were loaded with merchandise. He sent me to deliver a message to his family, telling them to start without him, but when Itried to get back to the warehouse, I couldn’t for all the commotion. That’s when I saw a line a mile long of soldiers in blue coats marching into downtown. A band of soldiers was playin’ instruments, like it was a holiday parade.”
Jael and I stared at Frankie in rapt attention.
“Did they hurt you?” Jael whispered, moisture forming in her eyes.
Frankie shook her head. “No, although I thought they might when they gathered us slaves up.”
“Where did they take you?” I asked, my lunch forgotten.
“First, we were put in a camp not far from here. After a while, they moved some of us to an area south of the city and set up canvas tents. I heard later they called it a contraband camp, meaning we slaves were contraband because we’d run away from our owners.” She shrugged. “I hadn’t run away, but I never did see Mr. Waters again.”
“Were you free?”
Frankie patted Jael’s hand and smiled. “I was, baby girl. For the first time in my life, I was free.”
They shared a triumphant smile that left me, a white woman, out. I’d never endured anything like what Frankie had, nor had I experienced racial discrimination as Jael most surely had. I couldn’t possibly understand the depth of feelings that must have passed through Frankie when she realized she was no longer a slave, owned by another.
Frankie’s smile faded. “Life inside the camp was good at first, even though it was cold and crowded. I think we were in shock for a time, before it finally sunk in that we werefree. There was food aplenty in the beginning, and it felt like a celebration. Music and singing every night. Laughter. But after a while, folks began to get restless. They didn’t like that the soldiers wouldn’t let us roam around outside the camp. The men were forced into labor, building a big limestone fort up the hill from our camp and digging trenches around the city to keep the Confederates out. Rumors crept in that a group of soldiers abused some of the women.”
Her voice dropped. “When a man was shot because he refused to work for the Yankees and tried to leave the camp, we started to wonder if we’d traded one master for another.”
CHAPTERTWELVE
“Thank you for giving me a ride.”
I glanced at Mr. Norwood’s profile as he maneuvered the car through Hell’s Half Acre in the dim light of dusk. I’d stayed at Frankie’s far longer than I intended. She’d offered to teach Jael and me how to make bread, and time slipped by as we talked and laughed and got flour everywhere. When I glanced out the window and noticed the sun dipping near the horizon, panic nearly overwhelmed me, and I wondered how I could reach the streetcar stop without drawing unwanted attention again, especially in the dark. After Frankie told Jael what happened that morning, she volunteered to run to Pastor Silas’s house to use the telephone to call Alden. I never dreamed I’d be so happy to see his old Chevrolet coupe pull up in front of Frankie’s house.
He glanced at me, his face a mask in the waning light. When he turned back to the road without a word, I got the distinct impression he wasn’t pleased with me.
“I’ll pay for the gas,” I volunteered, thinking that was the problem. Or maybe I’d interrupted his plans for Saturday evening. Did he have a girlfriend? Was he annoyed at being late to meet her?
After a moment, his shoulders eased. “I’m not worried about the gas.” Another glance. “You shouldn’t have come down here alone.”
His authoritative tone rankled, and yet I knew he was right.
He swallowed, making his Adam’s apple bob. “You could’ve been hurt... or worse.”
Now I understood. “Jael told you what happened?”
“Yes.” He let out a sound of frustration. “What possessed you to think you could come down to Hell’s Half Acre without an escort? A pretty white woman all by herself is asking for trouble in this neighborhood.”
He thinks I’m pretty?
For some reason, that slip of information in the midst of such a serious conversation made me smile.
“What are you grinning about? I mean it, Miss Leland. Don’t ever come down here by yourself again.”
“I promise I won’t,” I said softly, duly reprimanded.
