Buster’s Island

    
Copyright 2015 Burr Cook

Published by Burr Cook
    
Second Edition
License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.  This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people.  If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient.  If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please purchase your own copy.  Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
    
    
Table of Contents

Prologue
Chapter 1 Home
Chapter 2 Travel
Chapter 3 Lawyers
Chapter 4 Nanny
Chapter 5 The Overseer and the Overseen
Chapter 6 Buster
Chapter 7 Janie
Chapter 8 Buster Gets a Tour
Chapter 9 War Time
Chapter 10 Underground
Chapter 11 New Arrivals
Chapter 12 The Wedding Party
Chapter 13 The War Goes On
Chapter 14 Back Up North
Chapter 15 South Again
Epilog
About The Author
Books by Burr Cook
    
Prologue
    
Dillon MacDonald was taking a leisurely walk in the trees which were part of the South Carolina plantation he had recently come to own. An inheritance left him by his dad, William MacDonald, who he had never known. He was carrying a shot gun in case he came across any game on his walk in the woods although he was not there just for hunting. He had not yet explored all of his property that consisted of thousands of acres, although he did not remember exactly how many. It was a nice mid summer day and he was now a country gentleman. His property was an island and he owned it all. It was completely surrounded by the river waters and approachable by only one bridge just wide enough for a horse and wagon to cross.
    Suddenly a rabbit darted in front of him. It was an easy shot and Nanny, his cook, would make a stew with it for dinner. As the echo of the gun shot faded from his hearing he was startled by a strange sound coming from a nearby grove. He was sure there weren’t any large animals such as bison or bears on the island although there were some in the surrounding forests on the mainland. He cautiously moved toward the sound. It came again from the same direction. He started poking in the brush not finding anything when he heard it once more. This time he was astonished and a little frightened, he was sure now, that it sounded like a human groaning. He took several steps toward the sound and nearly tripped over a man lying on the forest floor. He could see that it was a fairly large black man and that he was covered with blood. “What on earth could’ve happened!” he soliloquized as he took some water from his canteen and washed the man’s forehead with a handkerchief. The man tried to speak and Dillon cautioned him to go easy since it was obviously hurting him terribly to try to talk.
    After Dillon had spent a few moments poring water over the man’s face and washing his brow the man asked, “Who’re you?”
    Dillon replied, “I’m the owner of this plantation.”
    “Please don’t turn me in!” was the man’s only statement, “please don’t turn me in!”  
    “Turn you in to whom?”
    “To the slave catchers,” the man replied.
    “Did they do this to you?”
    “Yes, one hundred lashes and they left me for dead. I crawled here from over there,” he said as he raised one arm a little pointing toward the river.
    “What’s your name?” Dillon asked, not knowing just what to say.
    “Buster, my name’s Buster. Please don’t try to move me.”
    “I’ll go for help,” said the land owner as he started running toward the house.  
    
    
Chapter 1 Home
    
It was spring time and Dillon MacDonald sat on the front porch reading a news paper dated April first, 1860 and was a couple of weeks old but where he lived that was about the best he could do. There was a lot of talk in the news about the institution of slavery in the southern states however Dillon lived in the north where the abolition movement had been gathering momentum recently. He hadn’t given the topic a lot of real thought but he had discussed it with many of his friends. They seemed to be split down the middle on the subject. He really wasn’t sure where he stood and certainly wasn’t convinced that all of the talk of cruelty was factual. After all there must be laws against such things. This is America he thought. None the less there was a lot of discussion about it in the Syracuse paper he was presently perusing. He’d seen articles written by abolitionists in many papers and magazines recently. He had also glanced through issues of “North Star” (an anti-slavery newspaper). Syracuse appeared to be the center of the abolitionist movement in Upstate New York. The underground railway was talked about openly as well as the Fugitive Slave Act of eighteen fifty requiring the authorities in the northern states to return runaway slaves to their southern owners just like any other property. If one looked over the news these issues couldn’t be missed. He had never seen a black person that he could remember. From everything he had heard from his friends and family they were not intelligent enough to be on their own.     
    Dillon was the stepson of a farm family living in the Upstate New York, County of Ontario which is located midway between the cities of Rochester and Syracuse. Having recently become twenty one years of age he was still small in stature but was considered to be handsome and he was looked on fondly by the local girls even though he walked with a slight limp as a result of an accident early in life. He wore his hair long and it was curly and very black and he had pale blue eyes. He was about five and a half feet tall, weighed about a hundred and sixty pounds and was solid and muscular due to his life of farm work. Dillon was fond of music and had taught himself to play the old violin that he had found in the attic. He had saved his allowance for a considerable length of time to buy a new one when he got serious about it. He was generally dressed in typical farm clothes but dressed in a modern style suit when he went into town.
    He had lived with the Chapman family – Mabel and Stanley - since he was quite young. They were not exactly a loving couple, at least not outwardly, but were never abusive. Dillon was happy living there and knew them as the only parents he’d ever had. The Chapmans had never actually adopted him legally so he still kept the family name of MacDonald. Stanley and Mabel Chapman owned a hundred acres of prime farm land and got by quite well although they were not wealthy.  Mabel was a stocky woman but not plump. She was a tough farm wife and accustomed to hard work. She constantly busied herself around the house and barn keeping a garden and caring for small animals. Stanley was a large man; very strong even though he was nearly sixty, about five years younger than Mabel. He still had a good head of wavy hair although it was quite grey. The couple wasn’t deeply religious. They attended church mainly out of a need for social intercourse.    
    Dillon was a good farm worker even with his twisted leg. He was especially fond of horses, dogs and various farm animals. He never knew his parents. He had heard that they were killed in a buggy accident, involving run away horses and that it was in that accident that he had injured his leg which never healed properly and left him with a limp. He got around pretty good and could do most kinds of farm work even with a twisted leg. He had a dog that followed him everywhere he went on the farm. He was a fairly large animal and Dillon named him Champ when he was a pup. He had to shut Champ in the house in order to go to town without him.
    Although Dillon had never graduated he did have a basic education and enjoyed reading. He had no real bad habits except for pipe smoking, which most men did, and an occasional beer with his buddies in town especially on the Saturday dance nights. Most of his time was spent helping out on the farm. He loved to watch the corn grow; it grew so fast in the hot summer months. They also raised lots of wheat, potatoes and beets and they kept a few dairy cows, some beef cattle and chickens.
    Due to his lame leg he had never participated in the games that the young men were interested in except that he was fond of hunting. He owned a shot gun and a small gage rifle and was an accurate shot with them. But young Mister MacDonald had a hobby that brought him in contact with many young women. He played the fiddle in a country band, often for local barn dances. He did not often have the nerve to ask a girl to dance and seldom had the opportunity since he helped furnish the music. He thought about it a lot however.
    There was little romance in his life, although that was not his choice he just didn’t know how to go about it. He liked a neighborhood girl as a friend; her name was June. His thoughts and fantasies often had a lot to do with her but he had not yet gathered together the courage to approach her romantically. He was very shy and lived several miles from the nearest village where he had attended school.
    His work was rather hum drum and he had plenty of time for fantasies which usually included June. He often thought of her and hoped some day to get the nerve to ask her to dance and he was sure he would if he wasn’t always with the band. He liked her way of being like one of the boys and a good friend although he thought of her a lot in other ways as well but it was all just in his fantasies. Even though they were especially friendly toward each other they hadn’t had any physical contact as yet other than holding hands. Many times they would lie on the hay upstairs in the barn over the cows and just talk about lots of things. Both of them dreamed of traveling some day, having never been further than the surrounding counties. He was fond of June and thought he would soon get up nerve to ask her to teach him to dance. She had offered a couple times but he put it off because he thought he might mess up having a bad leg and a slight limp. He used the band as an excuse. He knew if he really thought about it that people were kinder than that; he was really just self conscious. She was certainly attractive enough, even though she was a little heavy she was still a shapely young lady.  
    April 15, 1860 was a Sunday. It was a custom for Dillon to accompany the Chapman couple to the Baptist church in the nearby village. He had never thought much about religion but always attended the service because he knew that was what his step parents wanted him to do and also because he knew that June was often there. On special occasions he would play hymns on his fiddle in church. He knew that he did it well and he usually got lots of praise for his performances.
    As he sat in the pew his mind wandered in spite of the loud preaching from the pulpit. He was day dreaming about the previous afternoon when he was fishing in the river with his friend June. They had waded in the shallow part of the stream and laughed together as they enjoyed one of the warmest days so far for the year. It was at this time that he learned that her full name was actually May June Wager; A name that was chosen because she was born on the last day of May right around midnight. They waded in the river and had splashed each other and got a little wet then lay in the sun to dry. All in all it was a memorable day and he realized that he was developing feelings toward her. He remembered looking fondly at her long dark brown curly hair and big brown eyes with speckles while he gently touched her hand. She was seventeen years old and well developed. He liked the fact that she wasn’t taller than him as many of the girls were.
    Upon leaving the church service he was disappointed to find that June was not there although he knew she would ride her pony, Priscilla, over to visit him in the afternoon which was her custom on Sundays. They had more privacy at his home than at hers. The Chapmans left them pretty well alone while June’s parents were constantly keeping an eye on them. Not that they were misbehaving, they just wanted to be by themselves.
    The following Saturday Dillon rode his horse to town to visit with some of his buddies and practice with the band and buy some things for the farm at the general store. The store also served as the post office and he was surprised to find that he had received a letter. Getting mail was very unusual for him and even more strange was that the mail had come from Charleston, South Carolina. After noting the thickness of the envelope he decided to wait till he got home before opening it. He was curious but he soon forgot about it for a while because he had run into a couple of his friends at the store and was busy visiting and having a few laughs about nothing in particular. The crowd that he normally roamed around with was not into hanging around the saloon like many of the young men in town. Alcoholic beverages were only for special occasions with them so they hung out in the back room of the general store. The store owner’s son, John, was a member of the band and they often used the room for practicing.
    When he got home Dillon delivered the items he had brought from town for the Chapmans, placing them on the kitchen table. Mabel Chapman thanked him and went about her work. She was always busy with laundry, kitchen work and she usually, for some reason, took charge of the chickens and she fed them much of the leftover food which would otherwise spoil.
    He was curious about the letter he had received, so, alone in his room, he opened and read it. The letterhead read Jameson and Scruggs, Attorneys at Law, Charleston, South Carolina.
    Dillon did not understand all of the legal talk in the letter and accompanying papers but he got the general idea of it. He was shocked to read that his father, William D. MacDonald had recently passed away. He couldn’t help thinking out loud, “So he didn’t die in the accident like I was led to believe.” That would mean that when his mother was killed it was his father who’d left him with the Chapmans. They’d never told him. He was also learning that his father had some money in the bank in South Carolina where he had settled and that he also was the owner of some property. His father had written a will and was leaving everything to Dillon, his only surviving relative, his son. According to the lawyers, all he had to do was to come to their office in Charleston and sign some papers to claim his inheritance.
    Once he was over the shock of what he had just learned about his father he sat back and thought about a trip to the south. First of all he had little assets and such a trip would certainly cost more than he had. It would, however, offer a welcome break in the monotony of farm life.
    He kept the letter to himself for a few days until he went to town for band practice where he shared it with his buddies. They were very excited by it. His best buddy Phil took a pull on his pipe and exclaimed “Dillon you could be getting a lot of money. The property must have some value.”
    “Yes but I’ve got to get there first.”
    They all agreed that they would take up a collection among the group then someone came up with the idea of holding a special dance to collect funds for the trip. This they did and some money was raised but it certainly wasn’t enough to finance a trip to South Carolina.
    So the day following the dance, at the dinner table after they had eaten, Dillon shared the letter with his step parents. He told them how much money he had collected from his friends and the dance and lamented that he didn’t think it would be enough.
    Mr. Stanley Chapman sat back deep in thought after loading and lighting his pipe. Following a long draw on the pipe he blew a smoke ring and said “Dillon, you’ve been a big help to us here on the farm; the nearest thing to a son that I ever had, and I’d like to do something for you.
    “I’m sorry that we never told you about your father but he didn’t want to have anything to do with you at the time. I’ll tell you the whole story whenever you want. He was a hired man here on the farm; but for now I want you to know that I’ve got some savings at the bank down town and I’d like to make you a loan. I’m sure it’d be enough to finance the trip when combined with what you have raised and it’d make me happy to do that for you. You’re an adult now and I know you’ll be quite capable of making the trip on your own. I’d go along with you if I could get away, but I can’t right now. Anyway it sounds like you’ll be able to pay the money back when you return.”
    “Oh gosh,” Dillon replied, “it’d be a great experience. I’ve never travelled anywhere. Of course, I’d pay you back if I’m able. As soon as things are settled down there, I’ll come right back and I also hope that I can repay you for helping me with my life so far. It sounds like my father had a little money saved up. Did you know about that?”
    “No, we never heard from him after his wife was killed and he left you here. He was heartbroken over the loss of his wife but never really bonded with you, his son.”
    As Dillon lay in bed that night he was not able to sleep. His mind was full of thoughts about going to South Carolina which he knew very little about. He was accustomed to reading the weekly news papers and had read about the issue of slavery. Young Mr. MacDonald was sure that he wouldn’t be affected by the practice while visiting South Carolina, however, and he wasn’t sure if he was apposed to the institution of slavery or not. He knew that it was widely practiced in the south. He didn’t like to think about the cruel way they were captured in Africa and brought to America, but after all, he believed them to be savages living like animals in the jungle.
    He had a lot to do to get ready for the trip. Over the next several days he purchased and packed some things he would need. This took some time since he had never travelled before. He was able to borrow a trunk from one of his buddies in the band.
    On the next week end he saw June and told her about the letter and that he’d be leaving shortly but he’d be back within a couple months or less for sure. Little did he know that his life was about to take a radical turn and he would actually be gone for years. After walking with her to the near by bank of the creek he told her all about his plans for the trip south. June became quiet for a while after all that was said and Dillon couldn’t help wondering why. In his mind he asked the question “does she really care for me that much?” That thought stuck with him for a long while. He hoped that she did care for him. He knew that he cared for her a lot.
    Finally June asked “Will you be around for the dance on my birthday? It’s only a few days away.”
    “Of course, if it’s important to you,” he replied.
    “It is,” she said, “and I was hoping that you could maybe get someone to take your place in the band for at least some part of the night so that I can start teaching you to dance.”
    “I’d like that.” he answered “we could spend a little more time together that way.”
    She was very close to him now and looking directly into his eyes. He found it very natural to kiss her then. This was the first time he had ever kissed a girl. The first kiss was quick but followed up by several longer ones. She almost cried when she said “I love you Dillon and I’ll sure miss you while you’re away.”
    “It won’t take long, and I’ll be back and I love you too and I’ll miss seeing you too but it won’t be for long.”   
    The couple sat on the bank of the creek embracing and kissing for another hour before leaving. Champ remained quiet for the duration. He was curled up at their feet.
    Saturday night came along quickly and it had sunk in that he had agreed to dance. But the birthday went well and Dillon actually did dance. There were enough musicians without him. June was a good teacher. They danced for most of the night. It started with a kind of reel and Dillon found it easy to learn the steps but all he could think about at first was that people were watching him and laughing at his mistakes. He fumbled sometimes because of his bad leg. But as the night went on he gained more and more confidence in his ability and even forgot about his leg. After a while he actually enjoyed the dancing. Being close to June excited him. It was the most time he had ever spent that close to a girl. He liked it. For a change he didn’t drink any beer with his fellow band members on this night. It was June and his night to be together.
    Dillon had ridden his horse, Molly, to the dance and June had come on her pony, Priscilla, so he accompanied her on the ride home. Before reaching her house June stopped by the creek side and got down from her pony. Dillon followed and sat himself beside her. And they listened to the sound of the stream as they kissed a few more times on the river bank. He really enjoyed being with her even though his mind occasionally wandered to thoughts of far away places as the ripple of the water put him in a meditative state. He alternately thought of how much he loved June and thoughts of his new property in the south. “Would it be near the water?”
    Later, as Dillon lay in his bed, he wished he’d gone further than just kissing with June. He wasn’t sure if she wanted him to, but he thought that she did, however he was just too shy to find out. He vowed to get over that. He was ashamed of himself for lacking the boldness to make love to her. But he would soon be back and have another chance.
    
Chapter 2 Travel
    
    
Dillon had his trip planned for maximum comfort as well as for maximum fun. He wanted to learn from the experience. He visited the library in town and talked to the librarian about his trip. He also discussed his plans with one of his old school teachers. He found that he could go entirely by train but he also learned that it took a round about route and not only would take longer but would not be as comfortable as a ship. So he chose to go mostly by boat. He did a little more researching and found that a ship, advertising comfortable accommodations, would leave Boston Harbor for Charleston, S. C. in two weeks. He decided to take it. He could have just as easily gone by way of New York City but Boston sounded better to him and the ship was a large steamer. His plan would get him to Boston the day before the ship was to embark. His ex-teacher reminded him of lessons which involved historical places in Boston, when he was in her class room. She reminded him that he was interested in the Revolutionary War at one time and had learned about many of the heroes who came from Boston and after all that was the city where it all had started.
    When the time came to leave, the Chapmans took him to Port Gibson which was located on the Erie Canal. June came along to see him off. Dillon sat in the wagon with his arm around her all the way to the landing and occasionally stole a kiss. He knew he would miss her.
    June watched as he boarded the packet boat for Utica at nine pm. He waved goodbye to her and the Chapmans as the craft was slowly pulled from the shore by horses on the tow path. He soon found himself, because of the late boarding, occupying an upper bunk. The cabin was about seventy five feet in length and had a curtain about midway separating the men’s berths from the women’s. He vowed to get a lower bunk next time because the air was stuffy in the upper one near the ceiling. He had paid four dollars for the trip to Utica which included meals. Fortunately he was very tired and went right to sleep in spite of his excitement anticipating this new experience becoming a world traveler.  
    By about five am he couldn’t sleep any more so he arose early and found the bow deck and was later told that they had passed Cayuga Marsh about the time he had awakened. That would put him by now about thirty five miles from where he’d boarded the packet. Even though he had just arisen from his berth he fired up his pipe and soon he found that a number of passengers were coming from every berth and gathering to discuss their travels. The deck area in the bow was small, about seven feet front to back and soon was very crowded so many passengers took the steps up to the roof which was surrounded by a rail to keep them from falling into the canal. The deck in the stern was even shorter and was occupied by the man who steered. Once on the roof he met and talked with some of the most interesting people he had ever met. Many had traveled a lot and spoke of destinations he had heard of but could not imagine seeing. There were couples as well as many who traveled alone. The bridges were low overhead and generally required ducking your head and for some you had to sit.
    The cabin was quickly converted into a dinning area with the curtain taken down and a long table raised through the center from bow to stern. At breakfast he became acquainted with a man from Portland Maine, a most interesting man who had just come from the west. The man was good at story telling and had many good experiences to relate about the Wild West where the Indians made travel dangerous. The man monopolized the conversation throughout the meal but all of the nearby passengers were interested in his stories and listened intently. The canal locks were interesting. The boat occupied most of the surface area while the water was allowed either in or out depending on weather they had to go up or down.
    He arrived in Utica shortly before it got dark. This is where he was to transfer to a train bound for Boston with a change in Albany. He wasn’t sure why he had decided to take the train from here except that it was faster than the packet and presented a different experience. He was later sorry for making that decision. He had some time to kill and took a long walk around the city. Utica was flourishing. Genesee Street presented a fine appearance with many fancy looking mansions kept up in good style. With the irregularity of the streets the downtown buildings formed flatirons. They had passed through and made stops in Syracuse but did not get off the boat. So Utica was the largest city he had ever walked around in and he looked around at everything with great curiosity until it got too dark. Many of the girls he passed looked him over coquettishly causing him to blush. Even with his bad leg he was a fine looking young man. When he arrived back at the railroad station he treated himself to a snack and sat outside with his pipe until the train arrived.
    The train was smoky and uncomfortable and he spent much of the time smoking his pipe anyway and used up most of his tobacco which he planned to replenish in Boston. He enjoyed the ride in spite of the discomfort and met many people who had been to all parts of the world and he listened with interest to their stories. Dillon was never much of a mixer but he was quickly gaining courage which allowed him more interaction with others. He found most folks he met to be courteous and friendly. Of course there are always exceptions and he was quickly learning to avoid those types. During the long ride from Albany he travelled through many towns of historical interest in Massachusetts. There were many well kept farms which he admired. Many of the barns were a continuation of the farm house. He also managed to get some sleep even though he was sitting all the way. He enjoyed reading a good selection of news papers and magazines; had his shoes shined and listened to the click clack of the wheels on the tracks. This was his first experience traveling on anything that was not propelled by a horse. On some of the curves he could look out of the window and see the steam engine puffing away. It seemed to be pulling the massive load with unbelievable ease. All things considered the entire ride was tiring but interesting.   
    Upon arrival in Boston he was ready for detraining and he immediately started on a long walk which took him by a few stores where he purchased some items he would need for the next leg of his journey including a good supply of some fine tasting pipe tobacco. That was followed by a good lunch consisting mostly of sea foods the likes of which he had never tasted.
    After his shopping adventure he walked around observing some of Boston’s down town and remembering his history lessons. Toward evening he hired a hansom cab to pick up his trunk and to drive him to the harbor where he selected a hotel not far from the pier from which his ship to Charleston would be boarding the following morning. While sitting in the hotel lobby he met a family by the name of McGee consisting of a couple with two teen agers who were waiting for the same boat. One of these happened to be a fine looking girl around the same age as June. This made him think that he might have a more enjoyable voyage to South Carolina. He was proud of himself for having the courage to talk to a girl he had just met. He was learning fast for a man who had seldom left the farm. Getting acquainted was made easier because the girl was rather bold making up for Dillon’s shyness. She stayed behind as the rest of the family left and he enjoyed some good conversation with Matilda McGee. He was especially interested in her as she reminded him of June although she looked nothing like her. Matilda had blond hair artificially curled in coils. She was quite outgoing and seemed to like Dillon. “What a strange name, Matilda,” he thought to himself. “And what a strange accent she spoke with; even more strange than the Boston people’s accent.” Once again he noticed that he was gaining experience and courage when talking to girls. It wasn’t long before he got an invitation to join the McGee family at dinner and accepted. They ate in the hotel restaurant and again he had a very well prepared meal. It was fish called sea bass and some delicious chowder.  
    The next morning they were allowed to board the ship and were shown to their quarters. His stateroom was small but comfortable. He had not selected the most expensive accommodation but neither did he choose the cheapest. He had gathered together more than enough money for the trip. In his room he rested until there was a knock on the door and a porter called out “lunch is ready.”  
    They were treated to lunch about the time the ocean steamer called The Cape Cod weighed anchor and slowly passed out of the harbor. Dillon was invited to join the McGee family’s table, as a guest, because the table was reserved for first class passengers only, but they insisted. Once underway the captain, John Benson, joined their table as well. He was talkative and offered to show them around the ship later and said that he would update them as to where they were at each step of the way. The vessel was many times bigger than the canal boat. It had multiple decks with plenty of space for sitting in comfort. There were two large smoke stacks which billowed huge amounts of smoke and steam. The stacks were high enough that the smoke usually passed overhead but you had to be careful sometimes or you would get tiny cinders in your eyes and that could be very uncomfortable. The Captain looked proud when he explained that the ship possessed a screw propeller rather than the large side paddle wheels that many vessels still used. This type of propulsion was superior and faster. The food was very good and for the rest of the trip Dillon was accepted at the first class table. He didn’t even know the whereabouts of the table he should have used. Everyone just thought that he was a member of the McGee family.   
    It being a little chilly on the Atlantic even though it was early summer and Dillon found it necessary to change his clothes putting on a sweater and generally warmer things before showing up on deck, He didn’t mind the cool breeze since he was used to outdoor life. Matilda found it a bit uncomfortable and stayed inside a lot of the time.
    He already missed June but soon got interested in watching porpoises jumping out of the water along side of the ship.
    During the night a storm came up and he awoke in the morning a little sea sick. He went up to the deck and experienced some relief as he gradually became accustomed to the constant motion of the vessel which, as the captain had explained, was much better than some of the other ships because of the size of his vessel. The wind eventually died down and it remained calm most of the rest of the way. He also saw a number of Sharks frequently coming along side to jump out of the water. The McGee family that he had met back in Boston, and had lunch with on board, came on deck with their two teen agers. Dillon had already gotten well acquainted with Matilda and he bravely made more conversation with her when she came on deck although she hated the cold and stayed inside a lot of the time. He again noted that he was developing a better rapport with the girls since the last dance he had attended. Matilda was very much a southern girl. She had always lived in Charleston but some of her family had moved to Massachusetts and the McGee family was returning from a visit there. He had some pleasant talks with Matilda on board. These conversations were new and unusual for him due to her complete lack of the shyness which was something that he had always been plagued with. There were few places to really be alone on the ships deck so there was no love making even though Dillon got the impression that she was somewhat experienced in such things. He had never met a southern girl and wasn’t really sure how to take her.
    After dinner each night Matilda’s brother Tom would take a package of food to the two servants they had brought along to wait on them during their vacation. The slaves were locked in a room someplace and were not allowed on deck. Dillon was not sure just what was in the package but it didn’t look anything like what the other passengers were eating.
    The ship abounded with every conceivable comfort but Dillon was glad to hear the captain telling the McGee couple that they were only a few miles out of the destination harbor. Many of the passengers had come on deck in anticipation of the arrival. It was interesting to watch as the ship was guided into Charleston passing some islands and what looked like at least two forts. Soon they found themselves stepping onto solid earth again. It took a while to become accustomed again to not rolling with the sea.  
    Once in Charleston Dillon hired a hack to help him locate an adequate hotel as it was late afternoon and he could visit his lawyer’s office in the morning. He hoped they had gotten his letter explaining his travel plan and probable arrival date. As soon as he was checked into the hotel he took a short walk while it was still daylight and not quite time for supper. He found that many of the houses externally looked old and decayed. They were built of course brick on which there was a layer of mortar that was intended to look like blocks of stone, but fell short. All of the houses stood from one to three stories in height. The streets were narrow, irregular and filthy. Some of them were paved but not all. The richly kept buildings seen in Boston were not found here in any abundance though they had a few. He couldn’t help noticing that here there was a ten to one ratio of blacks to white people. He was shocked to see that some of the blacks were the most miserable beings that he had ever seen. Ragged filthy haggard and worn out, it seemed that the grave would be desirable to many of them. But the condition of city blacks, he later found, was far superior to some of those on the plantations.
    Later when he perused one of the city news papers he saw ads for hundreds of human beings offered for sale and priced at several hundred dollars each. One editorial seemed to confirm what he had heard about the cruel punishments that many slaves received. The premise of the writing was that the abolitionists were actually the blame for it. The article’s author, a slave owner, claimed that because of all the abolition talk the slaves were getting much harder to handle and increasingly harsher punishments had to be incorporated in order to maintain order. He said that if the people in the northern states would just shut up the slaves would stay in their place much more readily. Dillon hated cruelty to animals and didn’t know just what to think about cruel treatment of these slaves brought here against their will from the jungles of Africa. Weren’t they entitled to the same consideration as the farm animals? But, he concluded that it was not his affair.   
    
    
Chapter 3 Lawyers
    
In the Morning Dillon had a substantial breakfast even though he wasn’t sure what it was made of. It was certainly not Boston. He recognized some of the foods but others were completely foreign to him. The restaurant was just off the hotel lobby. All of the customers were white folks and all of the work was being done by blacks which he assumed were slaves.
    The office of attorneys Jameson and Scruggs was in walking distance from his hotel so he enjoyed the brisk walk that took him to the lawyer’s building by about nine a.m. He was greeted by a black lady and introduced himself. She said that she would inform the lawyers that he was here and went into the next room for a minute. When she returned she said they were expecting him and were almost ready for him and that he would be seen in a very short time after which she seated him in a comfortable chair and proceeded to make him some coffee. She was very polite and her appearance was cleaner and she was much better dressed than the Africans he had seen on the city streets. She was more plump than most of the others. She was obviously eating better. As he sat waiting he picked up a news paper and was surprised to note that it came from New York City and he noticed that it was opened to articles having to do with the abolition movement. Someone here had been reading about it.
    When the African lady returned with the coffee she said “my name is Betty, Mr. MacDonald, is there anything else I can get for you?”
    “No.” He was embarrassed to be speechless, as he had never spoken to a black woman before. He wanted to ask her about the New York paper and what she thought about abolition and slavery. He would like to have learned about how she lived and if she was a slave. He had heard that there were free blacks in the south. These thoughts were passing through his mind but he was too shy to speak to her so he sat in silence. He was surprised that this woman spoke perfect English. He had never met an educated African man or woman. This made him all the more curious.
    About the time he finished his coffee a door opened and a tall man emerged from the inner office. Dillon noticed that he looked to be a little beyond middle age, but was in good physical condition, as he stuck out his hand and said “My name’s Lester Jameson and I understand that you’re Mr. MacDonald.”
    “Dillon.”
    “And this is my partner, Samuel Scruggs; Sam.”
    “Howdy, Sam I’m pleased to meet you.”
    Sam was much younger than Lester, possibly in his early 30s. They both were well dressed in business attire, and gave Dillon confidence that they were honest lawyers.
    Mr. Jameson, who seemed to be the senior partner, spoke next, “OK you can call me Lester. Your father lived in South Carolina for a number of years and I knew him well. When did you last see your dad?”
    Dillon was ashamed to say that he did not know his father and until recently didn’t even know he was alive “at least he was alive until a couple months ago I understand.”
    The lawyer sat back and thought about that for a minute, filling and lighting his pipe.
    Dillon took his pipe own from his jacket pocket and asked “May I try some of your tobacco?”
    “Of course, help yourself.”
    So Dillon filled and lit his pipe.
    Lester drew a long breath inhaling a large amount of smoke before he spoke again. “Then you weren’t aware that he’d amassed a fairly substantial fortune Mr. MacDonald?”
    Dillon simply said “no” as his mouth dropped open “what kind of a fortune?” He felt kind of uncomfortable admitting that he had never been told about his genealogy.
    Then Scruggs took a deep breath and injected “well there’s money in several banks and a large plantation. He owned an island; I don’t remember exactly how many acres, I have the figures here someplace, there was also some live stock, horses and a couple dozen slaves.”
    Dillon was shocked and frightened by that last statement as he queried “Who’s running things there now?”  
    “Your father has had an overseer for a number of years. He hasn’t been paid for a couple of months but I promised him I’d take care of it as soon as you arrived.”
    “I have no idea how to deal with slaves!”
    “Well.” Lester injected “That’s what the overseer is for.”
    Dillon thought for a minute before asking “Can’t I just sell the slaves and hire people? I am inheriting a fortune.”
    “Unfortunately you’ll never harvest your crops without them.”
    Dillon thought for a minute “Why can’t I hire people?”
    The lawyer shook his head and said, “White folks won’t pick cotton and you won’t find many free blacks in the south.”  
    “Oh,” Dillon said with surprise.
    “OK,” Lester said “We’ve got a lot to do and it’ll take most all day. So let’s do the paper work while you think it through; there’s a lot here to digest. The overseer will stay with you after he gets paid so you’ll have some time to get used to being a land baron. We need to transfer title to the property into your name, including land and buildings, and for each slave there’re individual papers to sign. Later we’ll need to visit the bank. I’ll introduce you to the bankers and we can transact our business there. Tomorrow one of us will travel up the river with you and show you the plantation. Sam is the one who’ll likely go with you; he’s younger than me. It’ll take about four hours to get there. Have you got any questions before we get started?”
    “Yes, I’ve got one question, I don’t know just how to say it,” Dillon hesitated and asked, “Do you own any people?”
    Lester answered “No, Betty is free. She lives at my home with my wife and me because it’s not safe for her on the streets and we’ve known her all of her life. We live in Charleston and deal with slavery every day, but, we don’t like it. We’re apposed to it but we don’t make a lot of noise about it; it’d cost us a lot of business.”
    With the introductions and preliminaries out of the way, the rest of the morning was busy with paper work after which the lawyers took Dillon to a good restaurant for lunch they visited a bank where some of his father’s money was held. They also informed him that there was a bank in a village three miles from his new property with a substantial amount of holdings. The lawyers suggested spreading the funds around a little more for safety’s sake and volunteered to take care of that for him and that most of the future paper work could be done through the mail.
    Next they went by cab to an old looking, barn like, building and Dillon wasn’t sure just what for. They went inside and mingled with a few dozen men gathered around a raised platform. On the platform he saw a black man in chains being looked over by several of the men. They had him remove his shirt and inspected his muscles. Then he was made to open his mouth so they could inspect his teeth. After they had inspected every inch of the man, obviously a slave, an auctioneer started asking for bidding and the black man was eventually sold for several hundreds of dollars.
    Then Lester said, “Let’s take a look at the other merchandise.” Then they went into another room passing two armed guards who were posted on each side of the doorway. In this room he saw black men and women and even children in cages, one person per cage, with barely enough room to sit. Dillon couldn’t see them all so he couldn’t count how many there were but it was a lot. Then Lester went on “This is how your slaves will be handled if you decide to sell them. They will be separated from their families. It is a pitiful sight to watch. I just wanted you to see this before you make any decisions.”
    “Why don’t they just run away?” Dillon asked.
    This time it was Sam who answered. “There are slave catchers who track them down for a reward and they will be punished.”
    “Punished how?”
    “They would get a Whipping. Do you see the man standing by the auctioneer with a whip? That is what keeps them from running.”
    So they left the auction with Dillon a little better educated on the subject of slavery.”
    Lester wanted Dillon to see all of the ramifications of slavery so they made one more stop that day and that was the workhouse. They arrived there just in time to witness the usual punishment of a slave. Owners of slaves often paid the workhouse for punishing runaways. That would normally consist of twenty lashes every three days for the duration of their sentence.
    After leaving the scene Dillon found it necessary to duck into an ally and vomit before asking “why do they pay the workhouse to do the whipping?”
    Sam answered him “They don’t want to get blood all over themselves, and sometimes the slave will lose control of his or her bowels.”  
    Dillon didn’t ask any more questions and by days end he was the owner of more than he ever thought anybody could own although he didn’t quite comprehend it all as yet. During the afternoon Lester took him shopping to get some things together that he would need. The lawyers had informed him that he needed guns. When Dillon objected they told him that plantation life wouldn’t be safe without them. “With all the talk recently about abolition and rising sentiment for war the slaves are getting restless and there’ve been rebellions,” Lester told him. So they bought a rifle, a shot gun, a pistol with a belt and a small pistol to keep in his bedroom.
    Dillon made it clear that he wanted to sell everything and go back north as soon as possible and Lester said “this isn’t a good time to sell because of the unsure future. Many folks around here are preparing for a fight. But, we’ll put the word out and see if we can help you with your plan.”
    After finishing with the lawyers Dillon returned to the hotel and cleaned up a bit. He had received a dinner invitation from the McGee family. Of course it was Matilda’s idea. He got out the paper where he had written the address and proceeded to walk the several blocks to their home. As he approached the house he saw that it was larger and better kept than most in Charleston. In fact the street he was on was lined with what he would consider to be mansions.
    He rapped on the door and was greeted by a black man wearing some sort of uniform. “I’m Dillon MacDonald,” he said “and I’m here to see Matilda.”
    “Come right on in Mr. MacDonald, you’re expected. The family is in the parlor getting ready for dinner.”
    With that Dillon was shown into another room and greeted by the McGee folks. After he was greeted by her parents Matilda quickly took his arm and led him outside into a garden of flowers and various shrubs. She led him to a bench that was rather hidden from the windows of the house and bade him to sit down where they could see the sun setting and before he knew what was happening her face was just inches from his and her eyes were closed. He felt obliged to kiss her, softly at first but she soon pressed herself toward him kissing very hard and long. She had obviously done this before. She took Dillon’s hand in hers and placed it on her breast. He could feel her heart beating very fast as was his own. Her breast was very full and soft. This was another first for him. He was growing up fast but wasn’t sure just what to do next.
    He was recued just in time to avoid making the decision as someone called from the doorway saying that dinner was ready. “Oh damn!” she exclaimed. “Do you have to leave in the morning? We’re just getting to know each other and I really want to know you better Dillon.”
    Dillon answered “Yes I’ve got to go; my lawyer’s taking me into the country to see my new property.”
    “You’ve got property?”
    “Yes, my father left it to me.”
    “You’ll come back to Charleston for a visit soon, I insist.”
    “I certainly will,” he said “I’ve never known a southern girl and I like what I see, that’s for sure. I want to know you better and will make the trip often.”
    They reluctantly released each other and joined the family at the dinning table.
    He was seated next to Tom and across from Matilda. The table was richly covered with a white cloth and with utensils he had never seen before. He was very self conscious suddenly. He never had to choose between multiple spoons and forks and had no idea which to use and when. He tried to just watch the others before making a move.  
    There were three black women performing various tasks around the table, rushing in and out of the kitchen. None of them spoke but Mrs. McGee quietly gave them an order now and then. These African women were immaculately adorned in uniforms. One of them was dressed a little different from the others and obviously was the leader of the group as the other two did most of the work.
    During dinner Matilda said “Mr. MacDonald is a property owner now. It was inherited.” She seemed to be addressing her father at the time. “And he says he’ll visit again soon because his lawyers have an office in Charleston.”
    Just then one of the black women, one of the two workers, spilled a few tablespoons of gravy on the table cloth. Mr. McGee followed her into the kitchen and a loud slap was heard by all. No one seemed to pay much attention and when Mr. McGee returned to the table he said “Tell us about your new property, Mr. MacDonald.”
    So Dillon began the story “Well, I just left my lawyer’s office and just learned the details. I now own a large plantation. Several thousand acres, I understand. My father passed away a couple months ago and left it to me. It’s about a four hour buggy trip north west of here I understand. I also own slaves now and I’ve no idea how to deal with them. Fortunately I have an overseer to take care of things like that.”
    Mr. McGee seemed to be a little more interested in Dillon now, “I’m sorry about your dad” he said, then he added “It’s good that you have an experienced man to help out. You should establish right off that you won’t allow any disrespect from the slaves.”
    “The overseer is watching over a couple dozen slaves, I’m told. I haven’t seen the place as yet but tomorrow I’ll go there. I promised Matilda that I’ll come back for a visit and I intend to do just that. I’m sure I’ll need to see my lawyers now and then.”     
    When the black servant came out of the kitchen again Dillon noticed a little blood on her lower lip. He was sure he didn’t like Mr. McGee and he was sure he wouldn’t use cruelty to control the slaves, at least not the females.
    He was a little upset by the scene he had just witnessed and excused himself after dinner by saying that he had a long ride coming up in the morning.       
    
    
Chapter 4 Nanny
    
It was the middle of the afternoon in mid July when Dillon and Scruggs passed through the small village which was about 3 miles from his new plantation. The streets of the town were not paved and the downtown walkways were made with wooden planks. Sam pointed out the bank, the general store and the post office. There was a doctor’s office and a combination hotel and saloon. Dillon also noted that there was a black smith shop, a barber shop and some various smaller businesses. Outside of the downtown area there were no sidewalks and on the edge of town there were some odd looking grain silos and agricultural storage barns with signs offering to purchase rice, indigo, cotton, hemp and more.   
    The rest of the trip followed a dirt road, which was little more than some wagon tracks with grass in between, and they soon turned from the roadway to approach a narrow bridge that crossed over a river of very clear water flowing slowly toward the sea. Attached to the bridge was a sign that read “The Island Plantation – no trespassing.”
    The plantation’s main buildings came into view when they were about half way across. A large house with two floors and a two story porch that seemed to surround the house was prominent as they exited the bridge. The house, or mansion, was surrounded by a well kept flower garden. He was reminded of Mabel Chapman’s garden but this was much more elaborate. It was definitely well cared for. There were several outbuildings behind the house, the largest of which was a horse barn connected to a dairy barn. It was from a corral connected to that building that a black man came running to greet them. He was in the process of grooming a horse when he politely inquired as to what their business was. Samuel answered saying “I’ve brought Mr. MacDonald, the new owner of the island. We’re going to take a ride around the place and we’ll be back shortly for you to take care of my horse and carriage. I’ll be leaving in the morning to return to Charleston. Please inform the house servants that we’ll be here for dinner and to prepare a couple of sleeping rooms.”
    “Yes Marse,” the man replied and waited for them to leave expecting more Dillon thought. The man then added, “The butler ran off last week with his boy who was a gardener and wood cutter. But there’re two women left, a cook and a house keeper.”
    “I guess we’ll have to get by,” Sam said as they drove away following the wagon tracks around the barn. Dillon noticed that the several out buildings were rather in need of a little paint and repair but functional. Most likely storage bins for crops. He turned to Scruggs and asked him what the man had meant by Marse.
    “Marse is a short way to say Master,” Sam told him.
    After pondering on that for a while Dillon just grunted “Oh.”
    They were following a farm wagon roadway in more or less of a circle around fields of various sizes, all much bigger than any on the Chapman farm. All of the crops appeared to be doing quite well. There was rice, indigo, tobacco; none of which Dillon had recognized. There were some things that he had seen before including several kinds of vegetables, corn, beans and Orchards of apples, peaches and plums. But, by far the most abundant crop was one of those that Dillon didn’t recognize and he asked Sam “what’s that?”
    “That’s cotton my friend and you’ve got a lot of it.”
    Dillon noticed a couple dozen workers in the distance and suspected that they were pulling weeds and hoeing.
    Scruggs said “That’s only a fraction of the island. The rest is mostly woods. Some of it could be cleared. There’s some good timber out there and it’d make lots of lumber.”
    With that done they drove back to the barn where Sam again asked the stable man to take charge of the horse and buggy. Dillon asked him, “What’s your name?”
    “Jack.”
    “Jack what?”
    “Just Jack,” he answered.
    “My name is Dillon or Mr. MacDonald but please don’t call me Marse or Master, you can call me Mac if you wish, many people do!” He said this with a smile but emphatically.
    Jack just looked confused.
    As they approached the plantation house Sam noticed Dillon had a questioning look about him so he added, “Don’t worry, Jack knows enough to feed and bed down the horse.”
    “I just wondered,” Dillon replied.
    Later Sam told Dillon that slaves don’t always have last names. They often use the name of their owner.
    When they came to the front door they found it locked. There was a large knocker with which Scruggs rapped and very promptly they were looking at a middle aged black woman who invited them to come right in. She looked to be between forty and fifty years old and had a very pleasant air about her. Dillon liked her instinctively. She didn’t look like she was starving like some of the African slaves he had seen in Charleston. Her clothes were clean but not of good quality and she looked clean.
    “I’ve brought the new owner. Would you mind showing us around the house?” Sam asked.
    “Sure Mass.”
    Dillon gave her the same admonishment as he had given to Jack about how he should be addressed. For some reason he did not like to be called Master. He was new at all this but he knew he could not tolerate being called by that title.  
    Then Dillon asked “what is your name?”
    “Nanny,” She said fearfully. She was still shocked that Mac didn’t want to be called Master but she quickly regained her composure and stood tall. She was a bit heavier than the slaves he had seen so far. Being a house slave she most likely ate better.
    “Howdy Nanny, I’m pleased to meet you, and there’s no need to be afraid.” Mac then asked, “What do you do here?”
    “I cook, keep the house clean and when Marse… I mean Mr. MacDonald was alive I did his washing and just about all of the household chores. My daughter Janie helps me, she’s around someplace. She’s probably outside. She loves to work in the garden and make things grow.”
    The tour of the house started from the very large foyer they were standing in. They saw the kitchen, dining area, library, an office and a very large room which Dillon took to be a party room. He was embarrassed to ask and while he lived in the house he never used the room. There was a parlor or living area and several smaller rooms on the ground floor.
    The second floor was smaller than the first but housed no less than eight bedrooms. None of them looked like they had been occupied in a while. They were all sparkling clean with comfortable bedding. There were two rooms with an adjoining doorway and one very large bedroom at the end of the hall. The rest all looked about the same. Each room had a wash basin with fresh water and accompanying toilet articles. There was also a waste bucket with a lid to seal in odors. The largest room in the back had a special closet for the waste bucket and another for washing and bathing. Nanny assured them that the toilets and waste buckets would be cleaned every morning.
    After touring the upstairs they excused Nanny who had said that she would start cooking dinner, then they retired to the library where they found some very comfortable chairs and sat for a while smoking. Sam was deep in thought for a short while and when he spoke he had an expression of concern that showed. “Dillon, you’ve got to be careful with the slaves. They’re not sure how to take you. They’ve never spoken to white folks in a familiar vernacular like you’re suggesting. They don’t know what to make of it. There’ve been slave rebellions where they’ve murdered their owners. Go easy.”
    “I suppose that’s what I’d do in their place, murder the owners. I’ll give that some thought and I’ll go easy. I never expected to be a slave owner. I’m not sure what I’ll do. I think I’d like to sell out and get what I can out of the place even though this isn’t a good time to sell.”
    “I’ll try to help you with that endeavor. I’ll watch for a buyer. In the mean time be careful. Always carry a gun when you deal with the slaves.”
    Sam relit his pipe and said “Mac, by the way do you mind my calling you Mac?”
    “That’s what most of my friends call me.”
    So Sam continued, “Mac, you never knew your father so you haven’t as yet formed an opinion about him have you?”
    “I’m not sure that I’d have liked him though. The slaves seem like they feared him from what little I’ve seen so far. He must have been shrewd however to have become rich when he started as a hired man on the farm I grew up on.”   
    Later the door opened and Nanny announced that dinner was ready. They entered the dining room to find two places set with very expensive looking silver and china such as Dillon had never seen except for at the McGee home. There was a pot of hot tea on the table and the men helped themselves to that. The door to the kitchen was shut for a short time then in walked a young black girl between 16 and 20 years old; Dillon wasn’t sure. She carried a tray with sugar and cream and a dish of several varieties of fried vegetables. She had rather long black and very curly hair something he’d not seen or at least not noticed. Dillon was not familiar with any black girls but he thought immediately that this one was very beautiful. Her body was well developed. She had large brown eyes that he couldn’t help but notice and her nose was slightly flat but her chest wasn’t. She was a very attractive young lady. She had a round face which Dillon looked into very intensely. “This must be Nanny’s daughter, Janie,” he thought. Janie spoke not a word throughout the meal and remained silent for the days and weeks that followed, however, she was very efficient while performing her work.
    Both Nanny and Janie were involved in serving the meal. Dillon thought it was one of the best meals he’d ever eaten. He complimented the ladies for such tasty cooking. He was never particularly fond of vegetables but the way they fried them made them a real treat. They made an excellent appetizer.      
    After eating the men retired again to the library to smoke. Dillon spoke first “Sam, where do the servants eat?”
    “In back of the house there’s servant’s quarters. I’m not sure just what they eat or when. Most likely they clean up the kitchen first. They haven’t been watched for a while. I guess they’ve probably been eating pretty well. The overseer must’ve been too busy with the field workers to keep much of an eye on them. As you heard, the male house slaves ran off.”
    Dillon lit his pipe and said “I guess I ask stupid questions but this is all new to me. So anyway, why didn’t the women run away?”
    “The overseer would’ve known by evening and would’ve notified the authorities. The slave catchers have dogs that would’ve found them in short order. They know that. The men must have had some outside help to get away.”
    “What would’ve happened to them if they were caught?”
    Sam hesitated before he spoke again. “We would’ve found them locked up in the Charleston Workhouse, you saw it, a place that exists specifically for the purpose of punishing slaves and they would’ve been severely beaten. According to South Carolina law, the punishment for the first time is up to twenty five lashes.”
    “What about the second offence.”
    “Up to a hundred lashes depending on who catches them and who the owner is; they could be sentenced for a stay in the workhouse where they may administer many kinds of punishments. South Carolina law allows the owner of slaves that habitually run away to brand them with a hot iron on one cheek, usually with an ‘R’. An owner may also cut a tendon in a leg and can even execute a slave that’s too hard to handle. The murdering of a slave for no reason is a misdemeanor that carries a small fine. All in all running away is a big commitment and a very dangerous thing for them to attempt.”
    “Oh.”
    Sam relit his pipe. “You’ve got a total of twenty six slaves. Two are house servants. Of the rest four or five are too young to work.
    “How old is old enough for them to work?”
    “At five or six they’re expected to work some. The overseer decides who’s to work and who’s too young. That reminds me you’ve got a bank note to pay the overseer for the past two months and another month in advance. I’m sure he’ll stay with you. He knows how to deal with the crops and the workers, although I understand he’s not overly intelligent. You can rest a while after you pay him up. He’s been with your father for a long time.”
    Dillon sat thinking for a while before saying, “Jack seems a little different from the others. Less afraid for one thing, and he seems to smile and see humor in life.”
    “You’re very observant Mac, Jack is a little shy with you so far but he is very smart compared with the overseer and the field workers. Janie and Nanny are not stupid but they were never treated like Jack. Jack was your father’s favorite black. Your dad could never bring himself to treat a black like an equal but he favored Jack and gave him many privileges not afforded to any of the others. Jack was the only slave with a pass to go into town for supplies; the only one that could leave the island at all. Aside from caring for the animals and the barns he kept an eye on the bridge not allowing strangers or peddlers to cross without good cause.”
    “Why did my father like him?”
    “Because your father was fond of horses, his one love in life, and Jack knows horses inside and out. He takes expert care of them. His relationship with horses gave him a special prestige around the plantation. Even the overseer never messed with Jack.”
    “Sounds like I should hang on to him, Sam.”
    “That you should, Mac, He’s one that would be difficult to replace.”    
    They sat and talked for a couple more hours. Dillon looked around the library noticing that there was an ample supply of all kinds of books that didn’t show any signs of being used.
    Sam noted that it was getting dark outside and suggested that he retire as he wanted to leave for Charleston early in the morning. “I guess you saw the master bedroom. The largest one in the back I suspect. I don’t suppose it matters which one I take. Before I say goodnight I want to encourage you to lock your door and keep a gun always at your bedside, also be sure to carry or pack a gun, in plain site, when surveying the grounds. That goes for whenever you go out. I’ve never heard of your father having any trouble with the slaves but you never know.” Sam knocked the ashes from his pipe into the fireplace and as he was leaving the room he said, “Please come to Charleston now and then; Lester and I’ll be there at your service at all times.”
    Dillon couldn’t go to sleep right away so he got up and tip toed down the stairs and took a walk outside. His feet were bare but he was used to that. In the back of the house there was a shed that looked like a shack except that it was attached to the house. He noticed a light in the window and peered in. There was no glass in the window, just some netting. The light was coming from a lantern and he could see Nanny and Janie sitting at a rustic table in straight back chairs eating. “So this is where they live,” he thought.
    As he started to walk back to the front steps he felt something move under his foot. He immediately felt a sharp stinging pain in his ankle. It was too dark to see but he felt sure that it was some kind of snake that he had stepped on and he had been bitten on the ankle. He suddenly felt sick, perhaps from fear but he was able to get up the steps and to the door.  
    Sam had heard him go out and met him at the door. When he looked at Mac he could see that he was in extreme distress. What’s wrong?”
    “I think I’ve been bitten.”
    He sat in a chair and showed his ankle to Sam who exclaimed “There are two punctures obviously a snake bite.”
    Just then Jack came Running up to the open doorway carrying a lantern. He had been checking to see why the horses were edgy. As soon as he learned what had happened he started looking around the garden near the porch and soon shouted “I’ve found the snake, it’s a Copperhead.” He then grabbed a rake from nearby and killed the snake.
    Jack came to the door and said “Well, Copperheads are the least dangerous of the poisonous snakes around. Fortunately the others seldom come near the house. The workers see them all the time; they’re very frightened of them.”
    “What kinds of snakes are there around here?” Mac asked.
    “There’re Diamondbacks, Cottonmouths, Copperheads and Coral Snakes all over South Carolina, but for some reason, they’re very thick on The Island Plantation! Always wear boots outside!” Sam told him.
    Dillon hobbled back to his bedroom and tried to sleep. His mind was working most of the night and he got little sleep. When he wasn’t thinking about the snakes he thought about the auction block and workhouse. He thought about the black women in that shed living like the poorest people he’d ever known. Then he remembered the McGee family and how they lived like kings and queens comparably. And he remembered how Mr. McGee had slapped the slave woman for a simple accident. “I just don’t understand how these people think,” he said to himself.
    Sam looked in on him several times during the night and found the ankle swelling and getting very red and by morning he was burning with fever.   
    So Sam decided not to leave for Charleston right away but instead he took a ride into town and brought the doctor back with him.
    The doctor administered medication for the pain and for the fever and ordered the patient to remain in bed for a week. He said that Mr. MacDonald should recover fully by the end of a week. The most common snake bites are from Copperheads and fortunately they are the easiest to treat.
    Sam stayed on for two more days until he saw the fever breaking and Mac showing remarkable improvement. The lawyer took care of delivering three months pay to the overseer and assured him that his job was secure.
    When Scruggs was sure that Mac was over the worst he decided it was time to get back to Charleston. Lester would be worried and there was lots of work to be done. He assured Dillon that his finances were in good hands and his money would continue to grow. He told him also that he could have confidence that the overseer was taking care of the field work very well.
    
    
Chapter 5 The Overseer and the Overseen
    
Dillon had made a crutch out of an old broom and a few items from around the kitchen and was able to accompany Scruggs to the horse corral and see him off. Jack had prepared the horse and carriage for travel. After Sam left, Dillon turned to Jack, “How ‘bout showing me the barn. There’s more than one I see. I’ll just look over the main one that’s about all I can handle for now.”
    Jack just nodded and led the way into the barn taking it very slow as he noticed that Dillon was just hobbling along on one leg and the crutch.
    There were a couple horses in the barn and several in the corral. There were also several milk cows, and some calves in the barn. “I was about to put the cows out to pasture. They’ve been milked. You’ve got some beef cattle in another barn connected to a large pasture.”
    “What happens to the milk?”
    “Some goes to the kitchen and some to the overseer’s cabin,” Jack replied without any emotion, “What’s left goes to the field slaves. Of course that’s all up to you now.”
    “You’re doing fine,” Dillon said with a smile, “how ‘bout you, don’t you get some milk?”
    “I’ve never been allowed.”
    Dillon couldn’t help feeling confused. This was his father’s favorite slave and he was not allowed milk. He was beginning to get some insight into his father’s mind. He couldn’t bring himself to actually be nice to a good faithful worker. Jack had a special place on the plantation yet he could not be allowed to forget who was boss. So Dillon said, “Well from now on I want you to drink some milk every day, it’ll make you strong,” and he said it with a grin.
    Jack grinned back at him.     
    They came to a little room with no door and inside there was a small table, a rustic chair, some dirty cooking utensils and a shelf like bunk covered with what looked like potato sacks.
    Dillon asked what the room was used for.
    “That’s where I live,” Jack answered.
    Dillon thought to himself “the cows live better than that.” And again he thought of his father who was taking on characteristics of a monster or better yet a copperhead.
    After a little more chit chat Dillon went to the house and called to Nanny who was cleaning the kitchen. He asked her if she would mind going to one of the unused bedrooms and stripping the bed of all the sheets, blankets and pillows down to the mattress and bring them down here to me. “I don’t think I can make it up the stairs right now. Maybe by tomorrow I’ll feel up to it.”
    He had her deposit the bed clothes on the porch and he called to Jack. When Jack came to the steps Mac said; “Here take this bedding and throw those blankets, or whatever they are on your bunk, away and put these things on it.”
    Jack looked puzzled as he took the things and said, “Thank you Marse… I mean Mr. Mac.” He looked embarrassed as though he was afraid to touch the things so Dillon turned and walked back into the house where he watched from the doorway as Jack slowly picked up the articles and scattering a flock of chickens, ducks and geese he carried them back to the barn.  
    Mac could still hear the honking of the geese as he entered the library of his new, temporary, home. He looked around the shelves and shortly located a book about snakes. He supposed that his father had developed a curiosity about the subject after moving into The Island Plantation. He studied the poisonous serpent section and verified that the doctor was correct in asserting that the Copperhead was the least dangerous but also the most prevalent and most aggressive variety. Rattle Snakes and Water Moccasins were bad when riled and their venom was quite potent. The Corral Snake however, has the worst venom but they are small and have no fangs. They seldom bite unless messed with and are very shy animals. They have to rely on gravity to inject their venom through hollow teeth. Dillon found all this very interesting and the newly acquired knowledge made him less fearful. He had nothing else to do so he read the entire book.    
    Several days went by without any further excitement on the plantation.
    Once Dillon had discarded the crutch and felt like he was fully recovered, he decided it was time to meet his employee, the overseer and learn a little about how to deal with the slaves. He asked Jack which was the best riding horse and was presented with a fine looking mount. He asked the horses name and Jack said “Polly”.
    “She’s a splendid looking mare. Would there be any problem if I call her Molly?”
    “That’s fine with me if the horse doesn’t mind.” Jack laughed.
    “I like a man with a sense of humor.” Mac said.
    Jack looked a little scared until Dillon reassured him that he was doing fine.
    Next Mac located some money for the overseer even though it was a little early he had decided to pay him for another month just to keep him happy.
    Dillon sat down on the spacious porch while Jack put a saddle on Molly as Mac had asked. Dillon felt a little guilty because he knew very well how to saddle up the horse and could have just as well done it himself; He just wasn’t sure what he should do. The saddle was made of the finest leather and was decorated with some fancy bead work all around. Mac stepped in the stirrup and seated himself comfortably in the saddle. Jack had adjusted the length of the stirrups perfectly to match his height. He gave a little sound that started the horse on his way. He followed the same wagon road as he and Sam did on the first day on the plantation and soon located the field where the workers were busy pulling weeds.  
    This was Dillon’s first close up look at a cotton field. Being a farmer he recognized most of the crops but he never would have guessed this to be cotton if not for Sam. He glanced around at the workers spread out somewhat but all in one general area. There were about the same number of men and women. Also he saw several children, some working and the youngest playing or lying along the hedge. The women wore long dresses, very worn and unclean. Most of the men were dressed in normal looking clothes except that they were in dire need of repair. They were very dirty and looked like they were hand me downs.
    Dillon stepped down from the saddle, secured the horse to a post and approached the only white man in the group who was obviously the overseer. He was just in time to hear the overseer yelling at a black man and lashing out at him with what looked like a bull whip. “What the hell are you doing?” he shouted.
    “I’m teaching an African how to work.”
    Dillon was appalled and noticed a little blood showing up on the back of the worker’s shirt as he approached the overseer. “Let me see the whip,” he said calmly to the unsuspecting man and it was handed to him. He turned toward the river which was only about 100 yards distant and proceeded to carry the whip to the bank and throw it into the water where it floated slowly away. As he walked back to where the overseer was standing dumbfounded Dillon said “we’ll have no more of that.”
    “I don’t know any other way to keep the slaves in line.”
    Dillon thought for a moment before saying “Then you’re no longer my employee. I’m the owner of this land and I want you to leave now! Here’s another month pay in advance to tide you over till you find another job.”
    “That suits me fine, you can watch over your own damn slaves. They’ll probably all be gone by tomorrow,” the man replied as he turned and walked to his horse that was chewing on some grass at the edge of the field. He left in a gallop but returned the next day with a wagon to gather his belongings from his cabin. He said nothing to Dillon and after that he was never again seen on the island.  
    Some of the slaves had stopped working after watching the scene with the whip and they were staring at Dillon in awe. He made a motion to them to gather around him which they did. He had to think for a minute before he spoke as he wasn’t given to making speeches and what followed was the longest in his life.
    ”I’m Dillon MacDonald the new owner of this island. I’m the son of William MacDonald but I never knew my dad. I don’t know what his policies were but it makes no difference now. I don’t believe in whipping people. I’ve lived in the north all of my life and this is the first time I have talked to slaves. You don’t presently have an overseer. You heard what he said about some of you running off. You can do that if you want. I won’t chase you but as I have heard and you all must know there are slave catchers out there just waiting to collect a reward. I’d planned to sell out and go back north as soon as possible but I’ve made a decision to stay for a while. I plan to act as overseer for a while until I decide what to do. I promise you that I won’t use a whip.” After this, a long talk for him, he spent the next couple hours pulling weeds along with the black workers, a task they had never seen a white man perform. He then went back to his mare and back to the barn without another word. He knew that at least a few of the blacks understood what he had said but they obviously had trouble with his northern accent. In the coming days he was often to be found working in the fields along side of the blacks.
    Later that afternoon, Dillon sat at the table alone and was served a late lunch after which he retired to the library, his favorite room in the house, sat in a comfortable chair and took a nap. When he awoke it was after six pm. He put on some boots and told Nanny he was going out for a while and would have dinner in a couple hours.
    He walked down the wagon road and along some hedge rows. He couldn’t help looking where he placed his feet for fear of snakes. What Sam had said, the book he read, and the doctor along with his first hand experience frightened him, so he decided that he would ride a horse the next time he came to the fields. It seemed as though it would be safer. Soon he found himself back at the large cotton field and was surprised to discover the workers still pulling weeds. He stopped and asked the nearest black what time they stopped work.
    “When it gets too dark to see,” was the reply which came from a rather brave man by the name of Moses, “Of course we have to work as long as the overseer wants us to.”
    “It gets dark about 3 hours from now,” Dillon thought out loud. Then he said “tell the others to quit now and after this there’ll be no working past six pm.”
    “Thank you Marse Macdonald.”
    Dillon gave him the usual admonishment about how to address him in the future. He said he wouldn’t mind if the workers called him Boss but not Master.
    As the African families left the field he noted many smiling faces and he concluded that he wouldn’t lose any workers this night. He then returned to his dinner and retired without further incident.
    The next morning at breakfast he asked Nanny if she would need any supplies for the kitchen or for cleaning house then he asked Jack to hitch up a buggy and rode into the village he had seen when arriving with Sam. It was about three miles distant and was called Maryville. He took Jack along to make sure that he could find everything.
    On the way Dillon asked Jack to sit on the seat after noticing that he had automatically climbed into the back of the wagon. “Folks will think it rather odd.” Jack said as he climbed on the seat.
    “Do you think I care?” Dillon asked.
    Jack smiled as he said “I don’t think you like your neighbors very much.”
    “I don’t think I would if I knew them. I haven’t gone out of my way to meet them. By the way Jack, You seem rather bold. I like that so don’t worry because I said that. I want to ask you a couple questions and I promise not to punish you for the answers you give. Please be honest. You seem to be smart. Not school taught smart, but smart. First of all, how many hours a day did my father expect the slaves to work in the fields?”
    Jack was a little slow answering then he said “You may not know it but South Carolina law allows them to be worked fifteen hours a day.”
    “There is about sixteen hours of daylight this time of year. Did they sometimes work more than fifteen hours?”
    “The overseer was in charge of that.” Jack replied.
    “Sure, but my father was aware of it wasn’t he?”
    Jack looked kind of serious now as he said “Mr. Mac I like working with the horses and cattle. I don’t want to say anything to upset things here.”
    “The animals are your job Jack, there will be no changes.”
    “Well of course your dad knew just about everything that happened on the island.”
    “One more thing Jack, Sam told me that you were favored by my father. He liked the way you took care of the animals, especially the horses. Did he ever tell you that?”
    “No.”  
    “Now that you know that and given the way you have been living on potato sacks in the barn, do you think that he treated you fairly?”
    “No.”
    “Did you like him?”
    “Mac, no slave likes to be a slave. Many accept what they are and some actually believe that they are not as smart as white people. Those types never try to run off. They plead for mercy when they’re punished but they know of no other way to live. To answer your question Mac, no slave likes their master. Some accept the relationship but I know of no slave that really likes their master.”
    “Thanks Jack for your honesty and I hope someday you’ll like me.”   
    When they arrived at Maryville Village they first visited the bank with papers Sam and Lester had prepared for him and transferred his father’s funds to his own name. He asked for a letter of introduction to help him establish credit in the town, which he got. He did some shopping for some more appropriate clothing and filled the requests that Nanny had given him. He bought some candy for Janie and some for the children he’d seen playing near the workers in the fields. He asked the owner of the general store what his name was.
    “Abel,” was the answer.
    “Well Abel I’m Dillon MacDonald, the new owner of The Island Plantation,” he said as he handed him the letter of introduction from the bank.
    Abel read it and handed it back as he said, “Mr. MacDonald are you the son of William MacDonald?”
    “Yes I am.”
    Abel offered his hand which Dillon shook. Abel said, “Your credit is fine here. I did lots of business with your dad and never had a problem.”
    Then Dillon asked “would it be all right if from time to time I send my man Jack here to pick up some things for me?”
    “Certainly, just make sure you give him a pass, the constable here is a real nut case when it comes to slaves running free. He’ll make you pay a fine to get him back.”
    Dillon turned to Jack and asked, “Do you still have the pass that my father gave you?”
    “Yes I have it. It is good for travelling any place at any time. Your father knew I would never dare to abuse it.”
    “Fine,” Abel said.
    “I think I need to take along some more candy, I get a real hankering for sweets lately.” So he bought another pound of penny candies. He’d made a decision that five and six year olds should not work and vowed to pass that on later today.
    Then with Jack’s help he toured the small village making a mental note of where things were and what was available. He bought some news papers to read and returned to the plantation where he settled down to rest after leaving his horse and carriage to Jack.
    He told Jack, “How about you asking one of the young workers that shouldn’t be in the fields anyway, if they would like to learn about caring for the animals. It appears to me that you’ve got too much to do for one man. I’m sure you can find a willing helper. Whoever you decide on must be willing and you can tell him that he has my permission to make the change. Do you think you can do that?”
    “Yes Mr. Mac. I like that idea.”
    The next few days were restful but Dillon was looking for things to do. He spent some time working in the fields but most everything seemed to be done for him. He finished reading the papers and found much reference to the politics of South Carolina. There was much talk of problems with the Federal Government in general including unfair tariff laws and too much interference in local affairs. Also the slavery debate was heating up. The issue of whether the new territories in the west would be free or slave states came up often. The sixty one elections were in the discussion and it appeared that a man called Abraham Lincoln was entering the political scene and his views on state’s rights and abolition were troubling to the residents of South Carolina especially in Charleston and Columbia. There was even talk of seceding from the Union and war. When Dillon was bored he went to the cotton fields and worked along with the blacks.
    By the first of August life was getting settled and one night at the dinner table Dillon found himself seated alone in the dining room and being served by Nanny. Dillon stood up suddenly and spoke to her. “Nanny, I want you to put the food on the table and sit.”
    “What?”
    Again he said “Sit, here in this chair and eat.”
    “I can’t do that; it just wouldn’t be right Mr. Mac.”
    “Where is Janie?”
    “In the kitchen,” Nanny said looking rather unsettled.
    Dillon gave her a little smile as he said “Fetch her. I want you both to sit and eat with me and talk to me. Set a place for yourselves and sit.”  
    Soon Nanny and her daughter were seated at the table not daring to speak or move. Dillon said “I’ll not lift a fork to eat until I see you both served up and eating.”
    The women gradually did as they were told to do. They put a little dinner on their plates and began to pick at it. Mac was satisfied for the moment and ate quietly for a few minutes before he spoke again. “Do you have any communication with the black field workers, Nanny?” he asked.
    “Yes, but only through Jack. He goes to visit them sometimes at night. He’s quite fond of one of the ladies out there that he sees when he gets the cows in for milking and sometimes he walks the horses in that direction. I hope you don’t mind. Jack’s a good man.”
    “I don’t mind, in fact I’m quite pleased; everyone should know love. How’re the workers doing, are they happy?”
    “They’re very pleased with the shorter days in the fields but they’re worried ‘bout what the next overseer will be like and if he’ll be mean. And they were promised some boards to make some repairs on their cabins,” was her reply.
    Dillon gave a quick answer, “I wasn’t planning on hiring a new overseer and I’ll send Jack into town tomorrow and order some lumber. You can pass that on if you want. I haven’t seen where they’re living as yet. Do you think they’ll mind if I look around?”
    “It’s your plantation; I guess you don’t have to ask.”
    “OK, what about Janie, does she talk?” Dillon asked as he turned to her.
    “Yes mass…”
    “No, you must call me Mac or Dillon or Mr. MacDonald or whatever you want except Master!” Dillon snapped then grinned.
    “I’m sorry Mr. Mac.” Janie whispered shyly.
    “That’s all right Honey you’ll get used to it.”
    “She’s very shy,” Nanny injected.
    “I’m also very shy. But like I said, we all will have to get used to it because this is how we’re going to take our meals from now on. All our meals,” he said. “And while we’re talking I’ve got another subject for you. I want you to occupy two rooms upstairs because I want to tear down the shed you’re living in now. In fact I may start on that tomorrow. There are two rooms with an adjoining doorway upstairs. You can furnish them any way you want. You can use anything from any of the unused rooms just get rid of what furniture you have now. Can you do that for me?”
    Nanny answered with surprise, “Yes Mr. Mac.”
    “I like that, -Mr. Mac-.” Dillon smiled. “Make yourselves comfortable.” He was surprised when he realized that he was getting over some of his shyness especially when talking to the people on his plantation.
    The next day Dillon did as he had promised and made a list of lumber and supplies. He gave the list to Jack and asked him to go into town and order the lumber to be delivered to the plantation, and said “add to the list anything more you can think of that might be needed.”
    Jack remarked “that’s enough to build a couple houses and more.”
    The local bank had already vouched for Dillon’s ability to pay, and they told the village merchants “give him the whole store if he wants it.”
    When evening came Dillon rode a horse to find the slaves homes. What he found was disgusting. He was beginning to dislike his father more and more for the way he treated the black people. He saw a man sitting on a bench in front of a shack and approached him. He found that it was Moses, who seemed to be the spokesman for the field workers. And he learned that Moses had a wife inside the cabin or shack or whatever it was. He said “Moses, I’ve purchased some lumber for you folks to use on these shacks. Tomorrow you all can use a wagon to get what you need to make these cabins livable. You’ll find the boards by the horse corral. Jack will help you with hitching up the horses and wagon. He’s got a helper now so he has more time.”
    “OK Mr. Mac. I’ll start hauling as soon as we come in from the field.”
    “Tomorrow’s Sunday,” Dillon told Moses, “You won’t be in the field.”
    “What do you mean?” Moses asked.
    “Do you work on Sunday?”
    “Yes we work every day.”
    Dillon looked him in the eye and to the man’s great surprise he said, “There’ll be no more working in the fields on Sunday. Work on your homes, spread the word around will you?”
    Moses quickly said “Yes sir, I’ll do that.”
Chapter 6 Buster
    
Around mid August Dillon realized that he missed hunting so he oiled up his shot gun and got out some scatter shells. He had seen some wild turkeys at the far end of the cotton fields near the woods. He knew that they would taste great with some yams. He had not yet explored all of his property which consisted of thousands of acres. He did not remember exactly how many. It was a nice summer day and he was now a country gentleman.
    He walked down the wagon road to the woods keeping an eye out for turkeys. He was walking slowly into the woods enjoying the scene. He was thinking, “I own all of this,” When suddenly a rabbit darted in front of him. It was an easy shot and Nanny, his cook, would make a stew with it for dinner. As the echo of the gun shot faded from his hearing he heard a strange sound coming from a nearby grove. He was sure there weren’t any large animals such as bison or bears on the island although there were some in the surrounding forests on the mainland. He cautiously moved toward the sound. It came again from the same direction. He started poking in the brush not finding anything when he heard it once more. This time he was astonished and a little frightened as it sounded like a human groaning. He took several steps toward the sound and nearly tripped over a man lying on the forest floor. He could see that it was a black man fairly large and covered with blood. “What on earth could’ve happened!” he thought as he took some water from his canteen and washed the man’s forehead with a handkerchief. The man tried to speak and Dillon cautioned him to go easy since it was obviously hurting him terribly to try to talk.
    After Dillon poured some water on him and washed his brow again for a few minutes the man asked, “Who’re you?”
    “I’m the new owner of this island,” Dillon told him.
    “Please don’t turn me in!” was the man’s only statement “please don’t turn me in!”  
    “Turn you in to whom?”
    “To the slave catchers,” the man replied.  
    “Did they do this to you?”
    “Yes, a hundred lashes and they left me for dead. I crawled here from over there,” he said as he raised one arm a little pointing toward the river.
    “Who’re you, what’s your name?” Dillon asked, not knowing just what to say.
    “Buster, my name’s Buster. Please don’t try to move me.”
    “I’ll go for help,” said the land owner.  
    “Please don’t, they’ll kill me.”
    Dillon said as he started for the house, “don’t you worry I won’t turn you in, I’ll bring black folks to help get you to the house.” With that he was gone.
    Arriving back at the barn he quickly found Jack and told him what he had found, “Hitch up the wagon and I’ll meet you at the field where the workers are, get Moses and one other strong man to help. And while you do that I’ll saddle a horse.” Dillon was ready to go first and ran to the house and found Nanny, and said, “Nanny, do you think you can take care of someone who’s been severely whipped, like a hundred lashes.”
    “Why do you ask?” she queried.
    “I’m going to bring him here. Then I’ll get the doctor. Oh, but I can’t do that, he’s a run away. Do you have any medicines?”
    “We’ve got some soothing ointments but that’s about all,” she answered.
    “OK,” Dillon said as he rushed out the door.
    He met jack, Moses and another muscular African by the name of Ron at the edge of the woods and led them along a log road to a spot as close as the wagon could get to where he’d left Buster. He removed his saddle blanket and with the help of the other three he got the blanket under the injured man. Luckily for Buster he had passed out again making it easier to get him into the wagon. When he was in, they proceeded to the house where they transferred him to a comfortable sofa. Dillon instructed everyone involved that they must remain silent about the runaway being there. Nanny said, “They’ll kill him.”
    Dillon replied, “I think they believe they already did kill him, they left him for dead but they may discover that he crawled off. OK, I’m going to take a quick ride to town for some medicines. Nanny can take care of the patient while I’m gone and you men can go back to what you were doing. Thank you for helping and keep quiet about it and remember, please don’t tell anyone that he’s here.”
    Dillon again mounted up and rode to the village as fast as he dared so as not to arouse suspicion. He first visited the general store where he had noticed a variety of medicines, ointments and bandages trying to get some of everything he could and telling the clerk that he wanted it because he lived out of town.
    He then visited the doctor’s office. He had an idea. Mabel Chapman, he remembered, used to keep Laudanum around for her headaches and became addicted to it. The doctor kept her supplied with it while he gradually withdrew her from it. So when he saw the doctor and explained who he was he said “I’m addicted to Laudanum. My doctor up north was supplying me with it while I was gradually withdrawing and I’ve run out. He told me it’d be dangerous to stop taking it suddenly.”
    The doctor scratched his chin and said, “Your doctor was right. Laudanum is made from opium and is very addictive. I keep plenty of it on hand though, Mr. MacDonald. I knew your father well and I’ll be glad to help you. You don’t want to be running into town every time you turn around so you should have a good supply on hand.”
    With that the doctor showed him how to use it and explained what would constitute an overdose and warned him be careful and withdraw slowly but never take too much. Then he handed over a package of powder.
    Dillon then said, “By the way, while I’m here, my cook cut her hand kind of bad. I wondered if you’ve got something to put on it to help it heal. She’s a good cook and I want her back to work as soon as possible.”
    The doctor handed him a bottle and said, “Pour some of this on it every few hours, It’ll heal faster.”
    “Maybe I should take two bottles so I can have some around just in case.”
    “Certainly,” The doctor replied.
    Dillon paid him more than he asked explaining that he was glad to be aware of a good doctor not too far away from his new home. “It’s so hard when you don’t know anyone.”
    The doctor looked pleased and replied “I’m at your service Mr. MacDonald. Are you a bachelor like your father?”
    “Yes I’m a bachelor.”
    The doctor smiled and offered, “Your father did have a wife for a while, and in fact I think he married twice while he lived around here. They never stayed with him too long though. I don’t know what happened to them.”
    “I guess he was kind of hard to live with,” was all Dillon could say as he slipped out the door before the doctor could engage him further.
    When Dillon returned to The Island Plantation he placed all of the medicines on a table in the den where Buster was trying to rest. Buster looked very uncomfortable and groaned a lot. Dillon reviewed all of the medicines with Nanny and discussed their use repeating the doctor’s instructions. “Be very careful with the laudanum, It’s a very powerful pain killer but an overdose can be deadly.”       
    After a while he could see that the Laudanum was making the patient more comfortable as he was now sleeping soundly.
    Dillon could see that Buster was middle aged. His hair was partly grey as well as his beard. It was obvious that he hadn’t shaved in a while. He had a large frame although Dillon could see that he hadn’t been overeating lately. He had large hands and his arms and chest were muscular; he was still shirtless as he was when he was found and Nanny suggested that they leave him bare backed for now.   
    By mid September Buster was up and about but Dillon was reluctant to allow him outside. If he were discovered it would be bad for them both. As far as the law was concerned Buster was stolen property. Mac decided on a new tact. Some of the blacks made their own clothes and Nanny was very good at it. So he put his idea in motion by taking the buggy to a village that was further away as he was starting to be known in the nearby town of Maryville and he didn’t want folks to get too curious. While there, he purchased a large amount of cloth and various hardware needed for making clothes.
    Upon returning home he placed what he had bought on the porch. He then called for Nanny and told her to select out what she would need or want in order to make clothes for herself and Janie. Also she was to make some things for Buster so as to make him look a little different thinking that he could be allowed outside if he were somewhat disguised.
    Dillon then went to the barn and talked with Jack saying, “Jack, I have some difficulty communicating with the field hands. With their drawl and African slang and my northern accent it isn’t easy for them or me. So, I would like for you to deliver some messages to them. I have purchased some cloth for making clothes and after Nanny and Janie remove what they want, I want you take the remainder out to the cabins and divide it up.
    Jack smiled as he made a remark. ”You may not know ‘bout it but there’s an old law still on the books ‘bout what slaves can wear. Field workers clothing should be made of course, cheap, material like hemp. I used to wear such things, similar to burlap. Those materials were very uncomfortable and scratchy especially when they were new. Recently that law hasn’t been enforced and most slave owners ignore it and allow the blacks to wear hand me downs that are warmer in winter and more comfortable in summer but generally falling apart like rags. House slaves were always an exception and are usually dressed according to their position.”
    “I can see that you’re up on the laws of the state, Jack. I’m beginning to appreciate having you around. And by the way while you’re talking to the workers, tell them that most of the fruit in the orchards are ripe. Ask them why they aren’t helping themselves to it.”
    “They’ve never been allowed,” Jack said looking confused.
    Dillon then said “OK, inform them that they’re now allowed to pick some fruit and put some away for the winter. Also, there’re potatoes, yams and other vegetables in those sheds behind the barns. I can’t eat them all, I want them to use as much as they want. There’s more to be harvested soon. The pumpkins in the corn field are nearly ripe as well.”
    “It’s nearly time to pick the cotton Mr. Mac.”
    Dillon said, “Well tell them this, I want them to pick the cotton when it’s time and take care of the rest of the harvest. I’ll haul the cotton into town after they load the wagons. I want them to keep enough of the other crops to keep them supplied for the winter and only load what’s left over into wagons.” Dillon finished giving instructions to Jack who looked very happy about his task. Then he went back to the house and talked with Buster until dinner time. By now Buster had moved to an upstairs bedroom and was gradually getting used to joining the folks at the dinner table.
    Later Buster and Dillon were sitting in the library getting better acquainted. Dillon lit a pipe and asked, “Buster, did you ever smoke?”
    “I did up north but in the south I was never allowed.”
    “Well, there’s an extra pipe and tobacco; you’re welcome if you want.”
    “Why’ve you been so kind to me?” he said as he reached for the tobacco.
    “I’m only doing what my conscience and my church learning compels me to do. In the north we treat people differently.” Dillon answered with a wave of his pipe. Then he pondered out loud, “Buster you seem to be different from the others. You talk like you’ve been to school. Can you read and write?”
    “Yes I can, I spent a few years in Ohio ‘til I was caught and returned to my previous owner after the passing of the Fugitive Slave Act.”
    “Then you recently tried to go back north and got caught.”
    “Yes.”
    “Do you think that you can change your appearance enough to go outside?” asked Mac.
    “Yes, I’d like that.”
    “OK, Nanny will help you. You might think about staying here with us for a while. We don’t get much company and if you stay away from the roadway and the river you should be safe, especially if you shave and get into some new clothes. You might dress like a butler around the house, just in case we get company. As soon as you feel safe going outside I want you to be my overseer.”
    “I’ve never heard of a black overseer.”
    “Buster you are a perfect go between. You can talk my language as well as understanding the African accent and slang.”
    “OK I’ll give it a try Mr. Mac.”
    Dillon then said "I’m staying in the south for a while but only for one reason and that’s to try to improve living conditions for the workers. They may not believe me but they may believe you. Through you I’d like to make them a promise. I’ll never hurt any one of them. I’ll do everything I can to make their lives easier. There’s only one reason for them working the land and that’s because the money that comes from the crops raised here will go into making improvements in their homes, food and clothing since money would be of little use to them. I hope they’ll stay and work for a while to see if I mean what I say. And for incentive I want you to inform them that all of the money I get from selling crops will belong to them. And will be used only for buying what they’ll need for winter and better furniture for the cabins. I have enough money, I don’t need any more. Lastly, I’d like for a couple capable men to go about cutting fire wood for winter and divide it between the main house and the cabins. And by the way, find out what they might need from town for when I go shopping with their crop money. Can you do that for me?”  
    “I’d sure like to try.”
    Dillon was quiet for a minute then said, “Buster, you can do me another favor.”
    “Anything you want Mr. Dillon.”
    “You get to talk a lot with Nanny. I’d like to find out why Janie never talks to me. She sits quietly at the table. She cleans the house and helps in the kitchen but she hardly speaks to me.”
    “I’ll see what I can do.” Buster said.
    
    
Chapter 7 Janie
    
Later that evening they sat in the library smoking and Dillon spoke first, “Did you have a chance to talk to Nanny yet?”
    “Yes.”
    “Well?”
    “Mr. Mac, I don’t want to say anything against your dad I’m sure he was a good man.”
    “Buster, my dad definitely wasn’t a nice man. He did things that I just can’t forgive.”
    Buster took his time before saying, “He beat Janie and raped her.”
    “I suspected something like that. Please assure her that I won’t harm her.”
    “I already did,” Buster replied and for the first time Dillon saw him smile as he added “she already knew that.”
    The next morning after breakfast Dillon went into the kitchen which Nanny and Janie were cleaning up. He said “Janie, come here,” and she slowly walked over to where he stood. “Turn around Janie I want to see your back.” She did turn around but started to pull away when he touched a button on the back of her dress so he said “Janie, I won’t hurt you I just want to peek at your back.” This time she stood there trembling as he unbuttoned the back of her dress just enough to reveal a small area of her back. He gasped when he saw the scars that covered her back. “Did my father do that to you Janie?”
    She turned to face him with tears flowing down her face and nodded a yes.
    “Janie I’m so sorry, I want to be good to you. I know I can’t undo what’s already been done to you. My father was a bad man. I never knew him but I know that I would’ve hated him. Please don’t be afraid of me. I want to be your friend but you never speak to me. Will you be my friend?”
    “Yes, I want to,” Janie said out loud.
    Dillon took a step forward and gently encircled his arms around her and hugged her. After a minute he let her go and said, “You’re a sweet beautiful girl.”  As he looked for the first time in a while toward where Nanny was still standing and whom he had completely forgotten was there, he noticed that she was crying and he knew they were happy tears. For the first time since being in South Carolina Dillon felt at home. He knew that he’d finally gotten through to Janie. He’d actually hugged a black girl and it felt good. He liked Janie and hoped to have a long talk with her at a later time but right now he was very emotional and he even lost control of his own tears and wept without embarrassment or shame. He couldn’t remember ever crying. He always could fight it off even though he was hurt. Now it came. The last thing he said to Janie was, “your mother loves you. You’re lucky there. I never had a mother or a dad. All of you folks on the island are the closest thing I have to a family now.” He turned then and left the kitchen and went to his room to get control of himself knowing that now Janie would talk to him.
    Thereafter Dillon made an effort, a successful effort, to get better acquainted with Janie. She gradually became more open with him and came to the library occasionally where he was reading. She told him she wished she could read.
    
Chapter 8 Buster Gets a Tour
    
Later that morning he had Buster put on his new clothes including a big hat and the two of them ventured outside and Dillon introduced Buster to Jack who was dying to tell the boss that he had talked to several of the field workers and by now they had all heard the message and he told Dillon that they were very happy that they could have fruits and vegetables for the winter. “One of the field workers ran off. The others say that he knows about the underground people that will help him. In fact there is a station across the river someplace a few miles upstream I’ve heard. What surprises me is that most of them seem to be contented to stay. I never dreamed that they’d work without an overseer standing over them.”
    After thinking about that Dillon said, “I just hope that the man doesn’t get caught and talk too much. Anyway thanks for a job well done Jack. And by the way, this is Buster who will be the new overseer, unofficially for now.”
    After that he had Jacks helper hitch up a buggy to ride out to the fields. On the way he told Buster following a long pause; “I’ve been planning to find a couple African workers who know about carpentry. I noticed there are problems with the way some of them are fixing the cabins. I’ve sent mail to my lawyers in Charleston requesting that they locate someone. I’ve also requested a man that can butcher hogs and beef cattle. I asked them not to break up families. If the workers have wives and children they must be purchased also. The attorneys know that they’ll be paid very well for helping me and I know they’ll try hard to satisfy my requests.”
    “You’re a good man Mr. Mac.” Buster exclaimed. He shook his head as said “I can’t believe that you have any black workers left at all without an overseer. And by the way I know the folks at the underground station.”
    ”I’ve made a lot of changes but I need your help, Buster, to get it all done.”
    “I’m not going anywhere, Boss.”
    “Let’s visit the fields for now and after six tonight when the field hands will be at their cabins then we can visit with them a little more.”
    Buster looked confused when he asked, “Don’t they work until dark?”
    “No, I had them start taking the evening hours and Sundays to fix up their homes and make clothes and stuff like that. They were working too many hours to be effective anyway.”
    Again Buster had a confused look and said, “You’re a strange white man Mr. Mac.”
    “I could set them free but that wouldn’t help’em,” was Dillon’s reply, “but I can make them feel freer than they are as long as they stay on the island where they’re safe. I want you to help me.”
    “You got it boss.”
    So Buster, Dillon and Jack toured the fields and Buster saw that the blacks were working and they were doing it unsupervised.
    Jack was invited to have dinner with the family during which Dillon informed Nanny that she could supply Jack with some good food now and then. He had noticed that Jack and his helper did their own cooking.
    Later that night, after dinner, they hooked up the buggy again and took a ride to the slave shacks which were in a row on the far side of the fields. They first stopped at Moses’ cabin where Buster was introduced as Dillon’s helper. “Buster has been in the north for a while and he can speak easily with me as well as you, so he’ll be a go between. Sort of an overseer,” Dillon said as he noted that the cabin was looking somewhat more livable. After visiting with Moses for a while they stopped at the other cabins which were built along the wagon road. This was later named Cabin Row.
    When they were smoking in the library later that night Dillon explained to Buster, “You can feel free to go to the cabins any time you want, but it’d be safest after dark although if you followed the wagon road you wouldn’t be visible from across the river, not that you could be recognized from over there. I don’t think anybody is looking for you. You can ride a horse out there; Jack will help you with that. I would like for you to again stress to the workers that all of the income from crops will be used to their benefit, and that should give them a reason to work at the harvest. I’ve noticed that progress has been a little slow. If they work a little harder until that’s done I’ll buy some better furnishings for the cabins. Also, I intend to buy a few more steers and hogs to butcher and share. As you know I’ve given them shorter hours and Sundays off. Find out if they’re satisfied with that.”
    Buster looked very pleased with his new prestige and offered his comment “I think you’re being more than fair. This place is as close to freedom as African slaves can get without risking their lives.”   
    Buster was beginning to notice that Dillon didn’t take as much interest in the actual running of the plantation as he had before and little by little he started giving Buster more and more responsibility. Buster had a lot more contact with the workers and guided them with the skill of a trained manager. The blacks liked him. Everybody seemed to like him. Dillon was pleased with him and enjoyed more free time for hunting, swimming and going for rides and getting better acquainted with Janie.
    
    
Chapter 9 War Time
    
After the successful harvest Dillon had hired some wagons in the village to haul the produce to market; many items of furniture and the makings of clothing as well as food supplies and meat were purchased for the blacks and brought back on his return trips.
    Rumors of war flourished. Abe Lincoln was elected president of the United States on November 6, 1860 and by the end of December of that year South Carolina had seceded from the Union. In February, 1861 the Confederacy was created. March 4, 1861 Abe was inaugurated President of the Union and two weeks earlier Jefferson Davis had become President of The Confederate States.
    By July, 1861 the war was well underway and the south was blockaded forcing Dillon to abandon thoughts of going home in the near future. Mac wasn’t surprised to learn the first shots were fired in South Carolina someplace with a name like Fort Sumter near Charleston. This was proudly printed in all of the news papers he read.
    It was about that time that The Island Plantation was visited by confederate officers looking for volunteers. When they saw Dillon’s twisted leg and the way he walked they told him that he would be exempt from service. They left when they found no eligible young men. The draft was a year away but he would still be exempt. As the soldiers were crossing the bridge Dillon turned and started up the steps just in time to meet Buster coming out of the door carrying Dillon’s shot gun and trying to load it. Dillon shouted “Buster, what are you doing?”
    “Those are the men that whipped me!” Buster almost screamed.
    “Buster, stop please. Stop and think! You’ll ruin all that we’re working for. If you had managed to get off a shot at them we would be in deep trouble. You’d go to the workhouse even if you’d killed them. We couldn’t hide that. I know how you feel.” Then he stopped for a minute “No I don’t know how you feel as a matter of fact. I’ve never been a slave and I’ve never been whipped. I’d like to fight all the Confederate soldiers. They’re fighting to preserve slavery. An institution I have begun to hate.”
    Buster turned and went inside where he put the gun away. “I ‘m sorry I almost got you in trouble but I still want to kill those two bastards. I don’t know what I’ll do if they come back but I’ll try to restrain myself for your sake.”
    That ended a very delicate situation for the time being.
    One sunny morning in late July, 1861 when Dillon went to the barn Janie was following right behind, and he asked Jack, “is that enclosed buggy serviceable?”
    “Yes it is Mr. Mac. Its convertible and the side doors can be tied back so’s to allow a breeze to get in. It’s a fine machine I’d say.”
    “Well, Janie and I are going for a ride up river and don’t want to be seen by all of the nosey neighbors. I think that carriage would be just the thing.”
    So Janie packed a lunch while Jack’s helper readied the buggy then Dillon and Janie started up the dirt road toward the northwest where the forest got thicker with each mile. Once they were several miles upriver they were in hilly country that was densely forested and they stopped and opened up the sides of the buggy then rode on enjoying the breeze. Dillon had placed his arm around Janie’s shoulders as she leaned on him. After a short while Janie said “we can stop in the shade and eat if you want. I’ve brought some real good stuff in the basket.”
    Dillon guided the horse to a comfortable looking spot where they got out and sat on some soft pine needles. As they were enjoying some fruit and corn bread Dillon said, “Janie, I’m very fond of you. You’re so alive and full of fun now that I’ve gotten to know you better. I never saw you laugh until recently, now you do it all the time. I love being with you. I’m glad we spend so much time together.”
    “Have you forgotten that I’m a slave girl?”
    “Yes I have, it makes no difference to me. You’re just a girl that I like.”
    “I haven’t been able to forget completely, maybe after the war I’ll be able to.” Janie replied.
    “Janie, I know that you’ve had a tough life so far. I hope I can make up for some of it somehow. There isn’t any way I can put myself in your place and understand just what it’s like being a slave. You can take all the time you need to help me understand. Till then I’ll just be your good friend.”
    “I like that Mac. And you’re my best friend.”
    Just then the sound of horses came from back down the road. Dillon quickly made for more space between himself and Janie realizing how their closeness would look. It turned out to be two men in Confederate uniforms. They approached and without dismounting one of them spoke, “howdy there, we’re sorry to interrupt your lunch. That’s a fine buggy you have there.”
    “Yes. It’s very comfortable.”
    The soldier looked at Dillon a little suspiciously “You’re from the north. You aint a spy are you? We don’t see many Yankees around here.” Then he looked at Janie and asked “do you belong to him?”
    Janie answered “Yes sir, Mr. MacDonald is my master.”
    “OK, we’re in a kind of a hurry to join our new unit north of here and head right on for the fighting.”
    Dillon gave a mock salute and said with a smile, “Good luck to you, and I hope you come back in one piece.”
    One of the soldiers said with a sly grin, “I noticed that you two were kind of close as we were riding up. You had your arm around your slave girl. How about letting us have a little fun with her.”
    “I guess not.” Dillon replied.
    The two dismounted saying “hey what’s the big deal aint that what young slave girls are for?”
    “I guess not!” Dillon repeated.
    The two soldiers were large men and Dillon knew that he couldn’t over power them.
    Very quickly he could see the situation deteriorating as the men each grabbed one of Janie’s arms and started dragging her toward the woods.
    Suddenly two shots rang out. Dillon had picked up his rifle from the floor of the buggy. The two Confederates dropped to the ground with a thud like sacks of potatoes and Dillon knew they were dead. He was a hunter and never missed what he aimed at.
    Dillon and Janie just looked at each other dumbfounded. Then Dillon said “Janie I’ll need your help, I want to put them on their horses.” Between them they managed to lift each man and place him face down over the saddle. Dillon quickly tied their arms to their legs under the horse so that they were secure over the saddle and then gave the horses a slap, starting them on their way to the northwest.
    Without a word they cleaned up the area of all traces of the picnic and as the soldiers horses trotted out of site with their loads Dillon and Janie started to the southeast towards home at a fast pace.
    Dillon was shaking violently as was Janie. Eventually Dillon spoke “I’ve done a bad thing.”
    “You were protecting me. That’s a good thing.”
    “Yes but I hope we don’t get caught. I’ve never shot anybody. I feel terrible.”
    “They were Confederate soldiers going off to fight for the right to own slaves.”
    “I hadn’t thought of it that way.” Dillon answered. “They could have shot one of my home town buddies. I’m sure they’ve joined the Union army by now. And who knows how badly they would’ve hurt you.”
    “They certainly weren’t thinking about my feelings physical or mental!” Janie exclaimed.          
    “I suspect they would have treated me as a spy. They shoot spies.”     
    “Yes Mac, I never thought about you being mistaken for a spy.” Then she exclaimed, “Dillon you saved me, you’re my hero, I think I love you, at the very least I owe my life to you.” With that she kissed him on his cheek and made him blush. As they were galloping the horse homeward Janie hugged him several times and looked at him admiringly. Dillon pulled the buggy doors shut for more privacy and they leaned on each other for the rest of the way.
    When they arrived at the plantation they met Nanny at the door. She said at once “What on earth has happened, you’re both covered with blood.”
    Janie said “I was almost raped again. Mac saved me but he had to shoot two Confederate soldiers to do it. They deserved it. They’re fighting a war so that they can keep on doing those things to us. I hate them all. They thought Mac was a Yankee spy.”
    “Thank you Mac.” Was all Nanny could say for a minute then she said “Get out of those clothes and I’ll burn them before we even have dinner. You two must clean up now.”
    That night in his bed Dillon couldn’t stop thinking of Janie, He really had strong feelings for her and little did he know that a few doors away Janie was thinking the same about him.  They had made it home, they thought, at least without being seen. He felt that he had done right to fight for Janie’s honor. They never spoke of the incident after that night. They both knew that it was a necessary fight; after all the country was at war.
    About three weeks went by before Dillon decided to leave the Island again. Instead of riding his favorite horse, Molly, he saddled a different horse just in case they had been seen going to their picnic then he rode into the village. There he purchased several news papers including a local county weekly. He wanted to see what, if anything was written about the two dead soldiers headed towards the army headquarters to the north.
    He stopped at the general store to buy some candy for the children. Janie was also getting to like some sweets now and then. It had become a habit now to engage in conversation with the store owner, Abel. He liked to keep abreast of how things were going with the war, crop prices and local gossip in general. This had become a habit which helped to reassure him that he was not being talked about and kept him from worrying too much.
    “What’s new Abel?” Dillon asked him.  
    “Quite a bit has happened.” He replied. “Two of our military recruiters were shot right here in town the other night. They were a couple of ruffians, not too well liked but they were officers of the Confederate army.”
    “Good lord!” was Mac’s reply, a little too loud; he was already a little suspicious. “How did it happen?”
    Abel was glad to relate what happened, he loved to tell it to someone who hadn’t heard it yet. “Well, they were whooping it up in the saloon until pretty late in the evening. When they came to leave, they stepped out of the front door and were both cut down by a black man who had been hiding in the alley across the street.”
    “Does anyone know who he was?”
    “No, the tavern keeper ran and kind of peeked around the door frame. He didn’t dare expose himself. All he could tell was that it was a large black man who was leaving very quickly.” Abel answered.
    “Then he couldn’t be identified I suppose.”
    “That’s right. He just saw a big black man.”
    “Didn’t anyone else see him?” Dillon asked.
    “No, the guy just sort of disappeared.”
    Upon hearing that Dillon said while trying to remain calm “Well, thank you for the information. I think I should start carrying a gun more often. For now I need to get back to my business with my plantation. See you next trip, Abel.”
    Once at home the first thing Mac did was to check his guns. He found that the pistol had been fired recently because it hadn’t been cleaned. He always cleaned the powder from the barrel after it had been used.
    Mac found Buster in the library. He sat down, lit up his pipe and spoke. “Buster, I don’t think it would be safe yet for you to go into the village alone, especially late at night.”
    “Right you are Mr. Mac I certainly won’t be doing that. No sir.”
    “OK, that’s good. I don’t want anything to happen to you. I kind of need you around here. We both know who shot those two in town and you know that I had to shoot to save Janie from disaster. I want to see what the papers have to say.”
    Then Dillon picked up his news papers and soon found what he was looking for. There was an article about two soldiers found dead on the north bound road, heading toward Columbia where they were to join their unit. The article went on to say, “It is suspected that a company of Union soldiers were sneaking behind the lines and may have gotten lost. This is the first time they have ventured into this area. They must have come a considerable distance from their encampment which is a long way to the north. We are warning the local residents to be on the lookout and report anything suspicious to the military immediately.”
    Dillon got some relief from reading the news. Evidently he and Janie did not arouse any suspicion on their picnic in the woods.             
    “Buster, would you mind calling Nanny and Janie to come in here for a minute?”  
    When they were all four in the library Dillon read the news paper article aloud and then added. “It appears that I am innocent of any wrong doing. It was the Union army that did the shooting on the road up north.” He said that with a wink and a smile. “Also, I found out from the rumors in town this morning that the two catchers that were guilty of whipping my good friend Buster almost to death were shot down coming out of the saloon the other night. I’m not saying that they didn’t deserve what they got but the event was further complicated by the fact that they were now Confederate recruiting officers; working in this locality. And although I was concerned that he, Buster, might have had something to do with it, he tells me that he is innocent also. And we have to believe our overseer.” This was also said with a wink and a smile. “Now we must all forget about these events and move on. Many innocent lives here on the island depend on us for just about everything. We can’t let them down. We’ve taken on the responsibility and can’t and mustn’t turn back now. What we’re doing here has become our vocation in life. Are we all in agreement now?”
    There was a simultaneous “yes,” from all present.
    Then Mac added “Then let’s get on with it folks.”               
    So life went on for the folks on the plantation through the summer of 1861. Dillon had become much friendlier with Janie since their encounter in the kitchen and all of the fun buggy rides and picnics and she was especially grateful for him saving her from the soldiers. He almost always took her with him now when he toured the fields in a wagon. She loved to ride never having been in a wagon of any sort until Dillon came along. So their friendship continued to grow. Buster and Dillon were both teaching her to read in the evenings and she picked it up rapidly. It was that teaching that had given Dillon an Idea. He asked Buster what he thought of it. Dillon was proposing that he, Buster, could teach the several children of the slaves.
    “A good idea,” Buster exclaimed, “I could clean out one of the outbuildings and make it into a real school house.”
    Dillon replied that he would be all for that.
    Then Buster injected, “You know what Jack would say.”
    “What?”
    “He would say that it’d be another violation of South Carolina Law, teaching blacks to read and write. And by the way that reminds me, one of the blacks –Ralph- has a wife on a nearby plantation just across the river and the owner allows him to visit her; also against the law on both ends. Well, anyway Ralph heard through the grapevine that I’m considered to have died.”
    “That’s good news.” Dillon replied, “And By the way maybe I could buy Ralph’s wife if I knew how to approach the neighbor.”
    “I heard that her owner is hard up for money,” Buster said, “He recently sold two slaves.”
    A few days later Dillon saw a man on horseback coming across the bridge. He had a black man walking behind and tied with rope to the saddle horn. This turned out to be the town constable and the black was Ralph, one of the field hands. The constable looked Dillon over and said, “Are you the owner here?”
    “Yes I’m the owner.”
    “Well, I found your man here on the road without a pass, that’s against the law you know.”
    “I’m very sorry,” Dillon answered, “I’ll certainly keep a closer watch on him.”
    “Then the constable said “It appears that Ralph has a wife by the name of Sally on the Sullivan Plantation across the road. I’ve warned Mr. Sullivan to keep closer tabs on his blacks and I’m giving you the same warning. Next time there’ll be a fine, for now I’ll give your man back if you promise to punish him.”
    “I certainly will do just that sir.”
    When the constable was gone Dillon untied Ralph and told him to return to his cabin. “And by the way, how’s your wife?” He said that with his tongue firmly implanted in his cheek.
    “Oh, she’s fine Mr. Mac.”
    Dillon threw a saddle on a horse and took a ride over to visit Mr. Sullivan. As soon as he found the man he said, “I understand that you had a visit from the town constable. He brought one of my workers home for me. He said that Ralph was visiting your place.”
    “Yes, it appears that I’ve got the wife of your man Ralph. It’s hard keeping them apart. Being a man myself I know how it is.” Sullivan said with a laugh. “At least I used to know before I got to be too old to think about such things. The only good part of being old is that the Army doesn’t want me.”
    “You’re fortunate to be exempt I’m also not military material because of a lame leg. I’ll get right to the point; I can solve one problem for us both right now by making you an offer for Sally. I’d like to buy her if I can afford the price.”
    “Well, Sally’s a good worker but I really do need cash.”
    “How much do you want for her?” Dillon asked.
    Sullivan thought for a minute “She’s not a young woman; I suppose I can let her go for six hundred.”
    “I just happen to have that much with me; I’ll need a receipt or some kind of proof of ownership.” Dillon said as he handed over the money.
    When Sally was brought to him she was dressed in rags but otherwise was a typical middle aged black woman. Dillon said to her “Do you know where Ralph’s cabin is?”
    “Yes, I guess you both know that I’ve been there.”
    “Well you can go there now and that’s where you’ll live from now on.”
    “Thank you! Thank you! And thank you!” was all she could say. And with that she practically ran towards The Island Plantation.
    “You better hope the constable doesn’t catch her before she gets there.”  
    “I’m sure he’s home eating his dinner by now.” Dillon grinned.
    “I spect he is.”
    “Dillon continued to have a friendly conversation with Mr. Sullivan about crops and prices and the war, until he said; “Well I’m happy to meet you Mr. Sullivan. I should get to know my neighbors. But for now I should be going to satisfy my hunger.” As he pulled away he looked back and said, “Whenever you have blacks for sale let me know. I’m always shorthanded.”
    “Come by any time Mr. MacDonald. And I’m sure I’ll have more slaves to sell in the future.”
    It was late summer of 1861 when Dillon and Janie were buggy riding down the wagon road and followed the log road into the woods. They stopped at a small pond. Dillon got down from the buggy and motioned for Janie to do the same. They both sat in the soft grass looking at the water and listening to the frogs croaking. Janie asked, “What’s the pond used for?”
    Dillon told her “It serves no purpose but the field blacks come here in the evening sometimes to swim. They think that nobody knows about it. I guess that gives it a purpose. It must feel good to swim after working in the sun all day. I love to swim myself; it’s something I can do even with a bad leg.”
    “How did the pond get here?”
    “See those trees lying over there; I think that the beavers made a dam of them. They use their teeth to cut them and make their own pond by damming a creek. There must be a spring around someplace to supply the water. Sometimes I see them working at it if I keep very quiet. Beaver fur is very soft and the skins are used for making very good clothes. I never shoot them however, they’re too cute. If you disturb them they will slap their tails on the water and make a noise to warn the others. They’re a very smart animal and cute like you.” was his reply.
    “I’ve never been swimming.”
    “Well we can swim right now if you want.”
    “What if I drown?” Janie asked. “I don’t know how to swim.”
    “It’s not that deep. And I’ll teach you to swim. If you learn how to read you can learn how to swim.” he told her.
    “Will you make sure I don’t drown?”
    “Sure,” Dillon said, “Did you think I would let you drown yourself? But you’ll have to take your clothes off.”
    Janie stood up and started to unbutton her dress and Dillon started to undress. Soon they were both standing naked looking at each other. And Janie said “I’ve never seen a white man completely naked.”
    “And I’ve never seen a black woman completely naked. I like what I see.”
    They both just stood there for a few minutes, facing each other. Dillon thought again how much he liked her. He wanted to spend most of his time with her.
    Janie got that shy look on her face that Dillon thought was cute but she wasn’t all that uncomfortable being naked there with him. In fact she liked the way he looked at her.
    He suggested that they try the water. Janie was slow at getting completely wet but she found the pond shallow enough to allow her to keep her head above the water. They thrashed around in the water for about a half hour splashing each other like two little children. Dillon showed off his swimming skills showing her several different kinds of strokes that he had picked up from his buddies in the north even though the swimming season was rather short back there. He showed her the back stroke and the breast stroke and then he said “this one is called the doggy paddle. I’m sure you can do that.”
    She tried it and managed to keep her head above water while paddling across the pond. When she realized she was in deep water it frightened her for a minute but Dillon encouraged her to paddle back which she did. “See,” he said, “you’ll never drown now.”
    That pleased her. She was proud of herself for doing it.
    To see them you would not suspect that the armies were killing each other, in huge numbers, miles to the north, but all was peaceful here today. The water was warm and soothing.
    Upon exiting the water they lay in the sun to dry. The grass was comfortable and they were very close. Janie looked absolutely stunning from the front but her back was badly marred although the scars seemed to be fading. Dillon touched her breasts. She appeared to withdraw and seemed a little frightened. Then she said “Maybe, in time I’ll be ready, but not yet. When the war is over I think. You must know that I want to but my experience so far has not been pleasant. I’m very fond of you Dillon.”
    Although Dillon was aroused considerably, he assured her that he would not push her. Dillon was past twenty three years old now and he had never had sex. He said to her, “Janie, you’re very beautiful and I really want to enjoy your body but I can wait until you feel ready. I’m very fond of you too. I think you know that.”
    When they were completely dry, they got dressed again and found the horse still nearby eating grass while still connected to the carriage. Dillon had called for her. It was the new Molly. The horse liked Dillon and never ran away from him. In fact she always came to him when he wanted her. She had a sixth sense and always seemed to know when Mac needed her. He still missed his old Molly, however, but she was way up north.
    Back at the house Nanny looked at them and knew that they had been swimming as both still had wet hair a little messed up. Nanny saw that they were happy and did not object although she was still protective of Janie. She knew that Mac would never hurt her intentionally and she was getting used to seeing them together most of the time. She liked him and found herself forgetting that he was white for short periods of time.
    A few days went by following the swimming event when Dillon found himself sitting in the library and playing his fiddle. Janie overheard the music and slipped in to see where the sound was coming from. She had never heard her friend play music before. She was immediately caught up in the sounds and listened intently for a while. She liked it. Then she asked “Mac, will you teach me to do that?”
    “Do you really want to learn?”
    “Yes I do.”
    “I’ll start teaching you right after dinner, here in the library. Buster will probably help Nanny clean up.”
    So Dillon started giving her lessons almost every day and the next time he went into the village he had the owner of the store order a fiddle and all of the accessories. This he presented to her on its arrival. They started making music together adding substantially to the cheerfulness of their home. Janie turned out to be a surprisingly fast learner. She had a natural musical talent. Most of what Dillon played was for dancing to but he knew how to read music and he sent away for books of music. Janie got to like love songs and even some church songs.    
    
    
Chapter 10 Underground
    
    
The winter of 1861/62 was slipping away. The slaves all had working fire places by now and those with families had added on more space. Cabin Row by now looked almost like a street in the village and better than what Dillon had seen in Charleston. There was plenty to eat. They were raising hogs and beef cattle. There were plenty of foul both domestic and wild. Dillon had broken the law again by loaning scatter guns, occasionally, to the blacks for the purpose of hunting rabbits, wild turkeys, quail, ducks and other wild things.
    One cool night in spring of eighteen sixty two Dillon and his now good friend Buster were sitting by the fireplace in the den smoking and sharing some fine wine. Buster had a large frame and was quite muscular. He was middle aged and a somewhat light skinned African. Most of the black women looked at him fondly especially Nanny. He laughed a lot and was well liked by all. When he laughed his entire frame shook. The children flocked to his classroom two days a week for tutoring in reading writing and working with numbers. A black woman who lived alone by the name of Donna was given the job of caring for and watching over the children that used to be found around the hedge rows where the workers happened to be. Buster decided that the school house could also be used as a nursery for the youngsters. So Donna became Busters helper and was learning to be a teacher as well as child care provider. She loved the job.
    Also, Janie was learning to read now as well as making music and was spending a lot of her time in the library. Both Dillon and Buster took part in her reading lessons but Buster was spending a lot of time, when not at school, helping Nanny.  
    Buster was about the same age as Nanny and was spending a lot of his spare time helping her in the kitchen and cleaning around the house. That afforded Janie more time to spend with Dillon.
    Both men had just refilled their pipes and lit them from the library’s fireplace embers. “How’re the children doing?” Dillon was asking and Buster told him how smart they were.
    “Folks around here believe that Africans are an inferior race and not able to do much learning,” Buster sighed. “But they can learn just as well as white folks can. I have ten children in the school now since you rose the working age again and Donna brought in a couple more. Even though she is no further along in her studies than some of the children she can help them with their work while I’m away. Actually all of the blacks should eventually be taught to read and write in order to be ready for freedom. They’re lost when they make it up north because they’ve had no schooling.”
    Then Dillon asked, “How many folks live on the island now?”
    Buster pondered “Out of your original twenty six, twenty five are still remaining. You had the lawyers obtain a carpenter and a butcher for you and you bought Ralph’s wife from the neighbor. So, counting you and me that comes to thirty. I noticed Big Ben’s wife’s expecting so there may soon be another.”
    “Let me know when the baby comes so I can buy a gift for it. I hope the mother isn’t still working.” Then Dillon took a few puffs on his pipe which he had just relit again from the fireplace and said “Buster, I’d like to meet the folks from the Underground Railroad. I guess you know who they are.” Then he asked “What do you think the chances are that they’d talk to me?”
    “I think they would if I talked to them first. They helped me to run away twice,” Buster answered. “We could go there together and I’ll introduce you.”
    “Let’s do that, maybe tomorrow.”
    “Good idea Boss.”
    The next day after dinner they went to the stable for a carriage and noted that the carpenter and a helper were constructing a new cabin for Jack behind the barn. Buster had initiated the project and Dillon was pleased that he was taking action without asking or being told. Buster knew what to do now and could anticipate Dillon’s desires.
    Buster kept his hat low on his forehead as the horse trotted down the dirt road. They were going in the opposite direction from Maryville and the area was sparsely populated. This was the direction Dillon and Janie had started in when they had that infamous picnic and he couldn’t help hoping that this trip would turn out better than that one did. As they traveled up the river road Dillon told Buster the whole story of that fateful day. When Buster next spoke he said “That must have been very traumatic for her especially given her past experiences.”
    They continued following the river for a few miles when Buster said “OK turn on the next roadway.” After making the turn a plantation house came into view.
    Dillon tied the horse to a rail near the porch and noted that there was a light burning inside and after knocking they were allowed to enter. Buster turned to Dillon and said “Meet the Morrow family; Mr. and Mrs. Morrow and their son and daughter.” Then he turned to the Morrows and said “meet my new boss.”
    After a warm greeting from the family Dillon noted that the Morrows were of middle age and the son looked to be between twenty and twenty five years old and the daughter might be the younger of the two. Buster spoke again saying “This man is the owner of The Island Plantation, Dillon MacDonald.” Then he added “He’s an abolitionist at heart and knows that you helped me.”
    Edward Morrow was still shocked to see Buster and told him that they had thought him dead. Then Buster said “That’s what we’d like folks to think. Dillon helped me get my health back after I was whipped. I guess you knew ‘bout the whipping.” Both Edward and his wife, Martha nodded yes and Buster continued, “I hope you’ll trust Mac. He’s interested in your work.”
    Ed spoke again “I guess we should trust him if you do. But you know we’ve got to be careful. Things are much more difficult with the fighting up north. We in South Carolina haven’t really been affected that much by the war so far except for shortages of just about everything. Charleston and the coastal areas have been battered pretty badly. But for us in our work things are getting backed up. There is much more activity to the north of us and not much can reliably get through as you can well imagine.”
    Buster spoke again “Let me say something in the way of introduction. You should get to know my new master.” The couple looked puzzled by the word master but as Buster went on he was grinning, “He’s a most remarkable man, he found me at deaths door and nursed me back to health. He found a way to relieve my pain which alone could’ve killed me. He’s the owner of 30 slaves and only one ever ran away which is remarkable when you consider there’s no white overseer because he was fired for using a whip. He has given me the job temporarily. Mr. Mac, that’s what I call him, has improved the housing for the blacks and provided them with sufficient food including things they never dreamed of having like steak, pork and foul. They now have access to the orchards and the crop sheds without asking permission. Clothing and furniture and fire wood are provided. He’s created an island paradise. I never would’ve believed that the workers would stay without an overseer. I was shocked the first time I saw Dillon walk among them without a weapon considering that he’s a little lame and certainly not a big man. He’s created a school for the young so they can be ready for freedom. All of the black slaves love him and would protect him at all cost. He’s my best friend. The house slaves live like members of the family. I think he’s in love with Janie, the youngest.” After that last remark he winked at Dillon. “The slaves on the plantation all know that they are free to leave anytime they want. But they also know that it isn’t safe for them to leave right now. They have free access to the island though.”  
    When Buster was through with the introduction Dillon was quite red in the face and speechless. Ed Morrow spoke next, “That’s certainly a recommendation; I believe it’s the strangest story I’ve ever heard around here.”
    “I’m certainly happy and proud to know you Mr. MacDonald.” Martha said, as she brushed a sleeve across her face. “What can we do to help?”
    “We’re not here to ask for help but to offer help. Mr. Mac and I’ve been talking a lot while smoking by the fire.” At that point Ed took out his pipe and tobacco offering the pouch to the visitors and Buster continued while loading his pipe. “We’ve got things quite easy at The Island Plantation and there’s very little interference from the outside world, but at the same time we realize that the plantation is capable of supporting more than thirty people. We’ve got enough food stored to last a year and planting time is almost here.”
    Ed stopped him there for a minute saying, “I hope you’ve got the food well hidden.”
    “Quite a bit of it’s buried.” Buster continued, “Anyway what we’ve been discussing is this; we’ve heard through the grapevine that you are having trouble getting your traffic through the war zone. And if that’s true perhaps we could help you out by providing a temporary location for some of the goods. As you know the slaves communicate and know more about what goes on than we do.”
    Ed blew out a mouth full of smoke and said, “That sounds like something we might just be able to use if things get any worse with the war. I’ll bring it up next time I meet with our comrades, that won’t take very long and I’ll pay you a visit to discuss things further.”
    “Please don’t give away our names to anyone.” This was Dillon’s first comment in quite some time and he added; “There aren’t as many catchers around since the war started, but it would be best not to deal with locals, perhaps just those that come from further away.”
    Ed said “Of course you don’t want to try to pass off your neighbors property as being your own, we’ll be very careful, we have to. Most of our traffic comes from the direction of Charleston, Savannah and sometimes even from Atlanta. But, as long as we’re planning to work together -- and I do trust you after Buster’s introduction – I want to explain how things are going with us. In some ways things are easier now than before the war. Getting through the battle zones is tricky and dangerous. It’s not so difficult in fact it’s easiest for men who’re traveling without families and who want to join the Union armies. They’re welcomed with open arms. Avoiding the Confederate forces is the tricky part and that’s where we need good informants. The Confederate armies, in many cases force the blacks to help them and that is the last thing they want to do. The slaves that have been ill treated are less afraid of being killed than they are of getting caught by the rebels. We do get information on the current location of the armies and it’s somewhat reliable and if we can get our people to the Union army and our men want to join up and fight with them, the families will get help from the Union in getting to safety. They are safe in Union territory now without going all the way to Canada, but unfortunately they are better accepted in Canada.
    However, it’s dangerous for us to keep families here for any length of time and sometimes it’s more dangerous to pass them on to the north and that’s where I think we can use your help. So, as I said I’ll come to visit you soon and have a look at your place and consider your very generous offer. OK lets have some refreshments and a good smoke.”    
    The conversation grew lighter and soon the son and daughter reentered the room. The group enjoyed an evening of good company and refreshments. Dillon laughed as he said “we have smoked up most of your tobacco.” Then he added “we grow some good tobacco on the island. Feel free to come and get some any time.”
    “We make some good cider here and would be glad to trade for tobacco. I’ll get some from the fruit cellar right now in fact.”
    So Ed got out his famous cider and they all enjoyed a good drink. They had two or three in fact.     
    
    
Chapter 11 New Arrivals
    
About two weeks went by before the Morrows, Ed and Martha, knocked on the door of The Island Plantation house. It was going on dinner time which normally involved four people but Nanny said that there was plenty for six. So places were set for the visiting couple after Dillon assured Nanny that it was OK to dine as usual; that the Morrows were good folks. When food was placed on the table and they were all seated Ed and Martha looked like they were astonished. Buster explained “As I told you before, we’re one family here.” The Morrows, even though they were for abolition, were not accustomed to sitting down with black people for dinner. They were still southerners and the old taboos were hard to break but they soon loosened up and enjoyed Nanny’s fantastic southern cooking. And that set the tone for the conversation throughout dinner.
    After they had left the table Dillon said to Buster, “How about showing these folks around the plantation. You show them the barns while Jack or his helper hitches up the big buggy. When they’ve seen it all I’ll be in the library, I promised Janie another music and reading lesson.”
    So Buster left with the guests. They checked out the horse corral, stable and cow barn as well as the beef steers and hogs belonging to the black field hands. They were impressed with Jacks new cabin and before leaving for the tour they questioned Jack about his life on the island and found him to be quite candid about it. Then they were off to see the fields and to visit the street of cabins where they enjoyed talking with the African workers.
    Meanwhile, after Janie helped clean the table and kitchen she joined Dillon in the library where they had been reading a book. It happened that, although not explicit the book had to do with an intimate love affair. Out of the blue Janie admitted that she often thought about love making lately. Dillon was stunned for a minute then said “So do I Janie; so do I.” Then Dillon asked, “When did you start thinking about these things?”
    “When you looked at my back in the kitchen and hugged me I felt something. That was the first time a white man ever touched me except to rape me and I was far too young when that happened to feel anything but pain. I knew that day in the kitchen that you’d never hurt me but I was very confused about what I know now to be a feeling of love for you. Then when we went swimming and I saw the way you looked at me I knew that you found my body to be something beautiful. But I was sure that I loved you when you saved me from those soldiers.” Janie got up to pick up the book that Dillon had dropped on the floor, then Dillon stood, took a step forward until he was touching her and he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her several times on the lips. When they opened their eyes again they noticed Nanny in the doorway. Nanny didn’t say anything she just turned and left the room closing the door behind her.
    Then Dillon asked “Does Nanny ever say anything about us?”
    “She doesn’t want me to get hurt but she thinks that eventually I will. I suspect that she’s right but it’s too late now. I intend to hang on to it as long as it lasts and I’ll always be glad that we had some time together. Nanny knows that I love you. In a way she loves you too.     
    They stood there hugging for several minutes without speaking then Janie continued. ”I haven’t got a right to love you Dillon.”
    “Why do you say that?”
    “Because I’m your property; you could have me whipped. You could take me out in the woods and shoot me and nobody would care.”
    “Nanny would care, Buster would care. I would certainly care.”
    “But nothing would happen to you.”
    “Janie, I haven’t any right to love you, but I do. I thought I loved a woman back home but I know now that I was just confused. I didn’t know how to love until I met you. I don’t know when it happened but I fell in love with you shortly after I first saw you. I could identify with your shyness. All my life I’ve been afraid of people, afraid they would think me stupid or something worse. I love you Janie, there’s no turning back now.”      
    After that they tried to continue with the reading lesson until Buster returned with the company. --Dillon had forgotten all about them-- They moved into the parlor where there was more space and comfortable furniture. Janie smiled at Dillon and both of them were blushing noticeably while she was excusing herself and leaving the room. But Buster saw the tear on her face.
    “Well, how’d you like my farm?” Dillon exclaimed, “There’s lots of space. I’m sure you didn’t see it all.”  
    “No, but we saw enough to know that we like what we see.” Ed replied “I’ll get right to the point, the hour is getting late. We’ve got a family of six that we can’t move north right away. We could bring them over tomorrow night after dark. I’ve had some experience moving these people around and we often apply different means. In this case I think coming down the river would work. There shouldn’t be any moon about ten in the evening and with the small children the whole family will easily fit in my row boat. Then in the morning I can bring my wagon and take the boat back. We can pile some old lumber on top of the boat to hide it and avoid any suspicion. There’s a stack of old boards near the slave cabins. Can you have a place ready for a family of six?”
    Dillon answered “Yes. One of our workers left us a while back and vacated a cabin. It’s small but I’ll put the carpenters to work building a couple more cabins so we won’t get caught short in the future. For now we’ll clean out the empty cabin and put in some clean bedding. It’ll be ready, aint that right Buster?”
    “Yes Boss,” Buster said with a grin.
    Dillon suggested that Buster may see an increase in the number of students in his classroom for a while.
    Following a little small talk the company left with much hand shaking and thanking and waving goodbye.
    After all that was done Dillon went right to bed. He was tired. He slept soundly until he was awakened by a light rap on his door. He got up from the bed and opened the door a crack and was surprised and delighted to see that it was Janie. “I think I’m ready.” she said. Dillon let her come in and closed the door behind her. It was pitch dark now but he easily led her to the bed. He noticed that she was wearing a night gown of some sort, that he couldn’t see but he could hear her as she slipped out of it and he helped her get under the covers where nature worked its wonders. This was a new experience for Dillon but he knew exactly what to do.  
    In the morning Dillon saw that Janie was still there sleeping soundly. He didn’t awaken her. He let her sleep until she awoke naturally. Then he asked if Nanny knew she was here and if she’ll be angry. “Nanny doesn’t get angry with me. She never has. She might have discovered me missing and be worried. I’ll go to her and explain after I’m through with you. I’m not finished with you yet,” and what followed was a repeat of the night before. Dillon was sure now that Janie loved him as he did her.  
    Later she slipped into her room and dressed and together she and Dillon went down to breakfast. This strange family sat at the table together as usual and engaged in normal conversation but Dillon Knew that Nanny was aware of what had happened with the sleeping arrangements. And after that time, although nothing was said, Janie was missing from the bedroom that she’d slept in before.  
    Later that night the new folks arrived and were introduced as the Jenson family. This added six more to the number on the island. Dillon and Buster met the row boat that Ed maneuvered to land near the slave quarters and guided the new arrivals to the empty cabin. Dillon let Buster do most of the talking in order that they might get settled in with less apprehension. Then all was peaceful on The Island Plantation.
    The Jenson family was happy with their new home and didn’t complain about having to stay for a while. In fact they never did leave the island until long after being emancipated. They were ambitious workers and very soon got into the swing of things. When Ed and Martha came for a visit with the Jensons they were told that the family wanted to stay.
    “That makes my job a little easier.” Ed remarked.    
    As soon as Jack’s new cabin was finished Mac wanted to have a look at it so he dropped in when he knew Jack was there. When he knocked Jack yelled, “Come on in.”
    Dillon entered to find Jack and his helper engaged in eating breakfast. On the table he noted a large pan of bacon and eggs. “That sure smells good.” He said.
    “You can have some if you want.”
    So Dillon sat down after locating an extra chair and dug into the fine looking food. “This is delicious, who’s the cook?”
    “We work together.”
    “How about introducing me to your helper, Jack?”
    “Yes sir, this here is Bo, he’s a good worker. The builders were good enough to make this place with two bedrooms and Bo has moved right in, Boss.”
    “I’m mighty glad to meet you, Bo. How old are you?”
    “Either seven or eight, I’m not sure.”
    Dillon found that Bo was an orphan and had lived in a cabin with an elderly couple. He loved his new home and was very fond of Jack. He liked working with the animals. He had worked in the fields for almost four years and found his new job much easier and a real pleasure. He was enjoying life. When Mac finally left the cabin his stomach was full and he knew Bo pretty well.
    It was about a month later that three more were added to the growing plantation family. It was late one night when all were sleeping that a sudden and loud knock was heard at the front door. Dillon and Buster were first on the scene and Janie and Nanny were right behind. There was a black woman standing on the porch with two children. The children looked to be twins about two years old and both were boys. The woman was in obvious distress. She looked like she was ready to fall. She had been carrying the children; Buster spoke, “come in the house quickly and tell us what happened.”
    They all sat in the foyer and found out that the arrivals had run away from a nearby plantation. The woman whose name was Lisa said, “Master Donnelly’s going to sell my children!”
    “You mean that he’s selling them without you?” Buster asked.
    “Yes, I’ll drown them and myself in the river first!”
    Dillon knew that Donnelly was a cruel man who lived near the village. After thinking on that for a moment, he asked “What made you decide to come here?”
    “The blacks around here know what this place is,” She answered. That statement caused Dillon to be a little nervous at first but after thinking about it he was glad that they knew enough to come here. And he knew the slaves were good at keeping secrets from their owners.
    Buster had an idea, “How about I wake up Jack and get a buggy ready and I’ll take them to a cabin. There’s Elsie who lives in a cabin alone and there’s plenty of room and I know she won’t mind having company. We don’t want them to walk because the dogs might come although they’re short of catchers since the war came. Who knows what Donnelly might do since there’s no doubt a lot of money involved?”
    “OK Buster, but let’s get someone working on a shelter in the woods right away, like tomorrow; there could be more runaways coming since the word is out.” Dillon said excitedly. “And we don’t want these folks to be found. As you know since so many things are scarce folks are selling their slaves or trading them for food and stuff.”
    “You got it Boss. I’ll get moving.”
    Lisa was crying out load and couldn’t speak, but she knew she was safe in good hands. She had heard right, the African communications network was working well.
    Dillon turned to Janie and looked at her speechless while he watched Buster taking Lisa with her babies to the relative safety of Cabin Row. He hugged Janie and then hugged Nanny. When he finally found his voice he said; “if I should live for the next hundred years I’ll never forget the look on that woman’s face when she thought she was losing her children and then the look she gave us when she was whisked away to safety. That was worth all the hardships I’ve ever had to endure or ever will, just for that last look she gave us. Until this moment I didn’t have the right appreciation for what we’re doing here. These folks are doing far more for me than I could ever do for them. I’ve found happiness here and it’s all been an accident of fate. I couldn’t have done any of it without you two and Buster was a gift from God. I love you Janie and I love you Nanny.”
    Very soon there was a new hiding place far into the woods and it was well camouflaged so that it was never found and runaways were hidden there. The new arrivals were always brought by wagon or the river so the dogs would have a hard time following. The slave catchers had come by once over another incident and Dillon ordered them to go no further saying “This is private property. My fields are well kept and I don’t want people trampling them in the dark. And besides I don’t harbor runaway slaves.” But the dogs never came.
    
Chapter 12 The Wedding Party
    
Throughout the summer of 1862 the planting and harvesting went well. New folks were arriving now and then and Dillon was losing count of the field hands. As the new comers caught on to how things worked on the plantation they willingly helped with the field work and reaped the benefits. The runaways that came from nearby plantations were hidden away in the secret woods hideout. The others Buster was practically allowing to make their own working hours but things got done, especially since there were more hands involved. The children were happy with Busters school and he had put together a playground in the woods nearby and they had swimming lessons in the pond.
    When the fall harvest was done and marketed everyone on the plantation took a rest and cut wood and made clothing for the coming of colder weather.
    One fine fall day, Dillon announced at the dinner table that he and Janie wanted to be married. “When I lived in the north I attended church where I was taught that if a man and woman share the same bed they should be married; Nanny, do I have your permission to marry your daughter?”
    “I’ve never heard of a white man marrying a black woman! Black and white marriages are against the law you know!” Nanny retorted. “But you don’t need my permission.” She added, and after a moment of silence; “I like you Mr. Mac; I’d be happy to have you marry Janie; she loves you.”  
    “I don’t know how to go about it; we can’t get a preacher without considerable risk.”
    Nanny said, “On most of the plantations when slaves are married they simply jump over a broom stick together”.
    “If we do that,” Dillon suggested, “I’d like to have a celebration. How about a barn dance? We had a lot of them up north. Buster, do you think that if we clean out the second floor of the barn it’ll support forty some people?”
    “I think so Mac. It’s a well built barn.”
    “How about next Saturday night we can jump over the broom and serve some refreshments and dance. I’ll play my fiddle for the dancing.”
    “Let’s invite the Morrow family,” Buster added.
    Dillon looked real pleased when he said “OK let’s do it. How ‘bout it Janie, you’ve been quiet.”
    “I’m very happy,” She said. “I’ve already told you I want to be your wife. As far as I’m concerned I already am your wife.”  
    So preparations for the wedding party got under way. The Morrow family was invited and accepted. They volunteered to bring some refreshments. The blacks were told of the party and that they were invited; but no one was told in advance just what the celebration was for. That was to be a surprise.
    Saturday night came and the upstairs of the barn was decorated and clean. The four Morrows came and brought a black couple that was to stay on the island for a while. Jack was there and Nanny; But most of the Africans were reluctant to come in from Cabin Row. Buster was sent to get them and eventually they started drifting in. They were all much better dressed than when Dillon had first seen them. They had made better clothing and were bathing regularly. All in all they looked much more like healthy human beings.
    There were benches placed against the walls and at one end was a table loaded with fruits and dried meats and fish along with things that many of them had never tasted before.
    Buster was acting master of ceremonies and introduced Dillon as the fiddle player and dancing could begin.
    Dillon got out his fiddle and played some of the lively dance songs that he knew so well. A couple of the black men had somewhere learned some dance steps and provided some good entertainment shuffling around the rough floor. All in all it was a happy time.
    Then Buster came in carrying a broom; holding it in the air for everyone to see. The crowd grew quiet. Of course this was pre-arranged and Buster spoke so everyone could hear. “We’ve planned this party for a purpose. This is a very special occasion. A couple are about to jump over the broom and become husband and wife.” Everyone looked around to see who the couple might be and wondered how it was kept so secret.
    Buster laid the broom in the center of the room and everyone gathered around making room for the ceremony to take place and Buster spoke again. “Dillon and Janie please come forward to the broom!” At that everyone gasped. This was unprecedented. “You may now jump over the broom.” Buster continued. And after they had held each other’s hand and hopped over the broom stick Buster finished by saying, “You are now husband and wife.”
    Dillon gave Janie a hug and kiss for all to see just to prove that it was real.
    Buster then made another announcement, “Now a special treat, Janie and Dillon will play a duet on the fiddles.”
    Everyone was surprised at Janie’s acquired skill as she and Dillon played a love song.
    The fun and gayety went on until about midnight. Most of the guests seemed to loosen up and had a good time laughing and eating and engaging in storytelling. They gathered in small groups getting better acquainted with one another. And when it was over they walked back to their cabins, Buster showed the new couple where to go and bade them good night. Nanny showed the Morrows to bedrooms so they could return home by daylight. Jack had earlier bedded down their horse. Everyone slept well except maybe Dillon and Janie.
    It was decided that there would be a barn dance once every month and every one must learn to dance.  
    The next morning while eating a late breakfast Dillon looked at Janie for what seemed a long time before saying, “sometimes, in the north at least, when folks get married they take a vacation together or do something special. Tomorrow we’ll go to Charleston.”
    Janie asked, “Do you think it’ll be safe?”
    “Yes, I’m learning to talk more like a southerner. I think I can fool some people if I don’t talk too much. Besides, Lester and Sam will vouch for me and I’ll write a note giving you your freedom just in case anything should go wrong. I’ve been thinking about consulting with my lawyers anyway.”
    When the meal was done Dillon got up and asked Buster to join him in the library for a smoke. When they lit their pipes Dillon said “Buster I’ve been thinking about writing up certificates of freedom for all of the blacks on the island. I can’t set them all on their way at once since many of them are not legally mine. I’ll have you hang onto the papers until the right time comes or if anything happens to me. Nanny should know where they are also. Tomorrow Janie and I are going to ride into Charleston to see my lawyers and have all of the papers drawn up and recorded there. I want to be sure it’s done right.”
    “What can I do for you?”
    “What you can do for me is to make a list of all the Africans on the island today. And for those that aren’t here legally we need to supply fake names which they should get used to using. Let them pick a name that they like, as long as it sounds reasonable.”
    “How long will you be gone?”
    “I’ve been corresponding with Jameson and he has invited me to come and spend a few nights at his home. While we’re gone I’d like for you to take possession of my guns except for the one I’ll carry. And please don’t shoot any Confederate soldiers you know that wouldn’t help our cause. I’ll give you a note of freedom and you’ll take charge of the island.”
    The following morning Jack and his helper readied the convertible buggy and Dillon’s horse Molly for travel and the newlyweds set out on their honeymoon vacation.
    In the nearby village they both went into the general store and made some last minute purchases for the trip. Dillon introduced Janie as his housekeeper. No one seemed to pay any attention to them. They made a similar visit to the bank and withdrew a large amount of cash. Then they continued on the Charleston Road.
    They did a lot of snuggling and kissing on the way but kept their distance when they could be observed. Dillon brought a considerable amount of money along and kept an eye out for any gold or other valuables for sale. He had an idea that the most likely outcome of the war would be in favor of the north and he expected a devaluation of the money. He was a wealthy man and hoped to stay that way.
    Upon arrival in Charleston they went directly to the law office of Jameson and Scruggs. The Lawyers were there and not very busy so after being greeted by Betty, Dillon and Janie were invited to sit and have coffee or tea and were soon joined by the lawyers.
    Lester spoke “Are you planning to stay for a day or two?”
    “Yes”
    “You didn’t need to bring a servant, Dillon, My wife and Betty will take care of the cooking and everything.”
    “Janie is not a servant.” Dillon said smiling.
    “She’s free then.”
    Dillon replied “She’s not only free, she’s my wife.”
    “Don’t say that too loud!” Lester said “It won’t be well received in Charleston.”
    Dillon soon brought out the list of names and told the lawyers what he wanted to do. “I don’t want there to be any way to deny the authenticity of the certificates of freedom. As you know I’m not good at legal talk so I came to you for some help.” So they did the work right there and then and after that the lawyers closed the office and retired to Lester’s home. Sam came along for the visit as well.
    Dillon and Janie had a good experience in Charleston. Lester and his wife had no problem with them sleeping together and they got to be good friends with Sam and Lester as well as Lester’s wife and friend Betty.
    They saw the results of cannon bombardment around the harbor area. The couple was very much impressed as they gazed at the site of the ruins of a famous cathedral on Broad Street, Charleston, and suddenly the war became more real to them.
    Before leaving the city Dillon went shopping for some things and bought a few diamonds, other gems and gold.
    Two days later they returned to The Island Plantation to find everything the same as they left it. The trip was a good experience.
    Dillon showed all of the papers to Buster then they were hidden away. Only the four residents of the main house knew where they were or that they even existed. They all agreed that they would know the right time to distribute them.
    
Chapter 13 The War Goes On
    
The Island Plantation remained relatively untouched by the war. Many goods were in short supply but they had enough food at least. A supply was buried that would last a year or more. They would not go hungry. Supplies were shared with the Morrows who continued to be good friends of the island folks. The rebel armies were all much further north than South Carolina and with the exception of the coastal cities the state continued to be relatively peaceful. The Morrows came bye in late January of 1863. They always seemed to be up to date on the war. They brought news of a new law was passed by the Union called The Emancipation Proclamation. It proclaimed the slaves in confederate states to be free. Of course the Confederacy did not recognize the law. The folks on the island found it odd that the Border States being four slave states that never declared secession and sided with the Union were not included. Delaware, Kentucky, Maryland and Missouri were still considered slave states. They all found this to be confusing and concluded that the Union didn’t really know what they wanted to do with the slaves.
    It was about that time that Buster and Dillon were smoking in the library and Buster spoke, “Dillon, I know that you like Ralph and Sally. You bought Sally just to see Ralph’s happy face when she moved in.
    “Yes I really enjoyed the whole thing.”
    “Well I guess they told you that they’ve got two children.”
    “Yes, but they haven’t seen them in ten years. They were five and six years old at the time they were separated from their parents.”
    “OK, I’ve been making inquiries kind of on the sly and I’ve located where they are. Their names are Portia and Porgy. They belong to a plantation owned by a fellow named Harris ‘bout thirty miles up river from here.” Buster said slyly.
    “And you’d like to bring them here, is that right?”
    “Yes, Mac that’s what I was getting at. I spect they’ll be costly since they’re at a prime working age.”
    “Well Buster, why don’t you and I take a ride over there and check it out. You don’t think you’ll be recognized over that way do you?”
    “No Mac I don’t. I’ve made a new hat that’ll hide my face when I want it to.”
    Dillon laughed as he said “It might be good if you hide your face all of the time, Buster.”
    “Well aint you the cocky one today.”
    “All kidding aside, Buster, how ‘bout we start out early in the morning and we can be back some time in the evening. We can hitch up a team to a two seated buggy just in case we’re successful. I’ll need to make a stop at the bank in town to get some cash in case we should happen to make a purchase.”
    So the next morning they left for the Harris Plantation. It was a little chilly but they were dressed for it and brought along a couple blankets just in case. On the road they smoked a lot and laughed at each other’s jokes. It was a fun ride.
    Mr. Harris was an old man just like Sullivan was. All of the draft age men were off to war. After they had knocked and came face to face with him Dillon introduced himself. He introduced Buster as his personal helper and body guard. When Dillon mentioned that he had come to inquire about the slaves Portia and Porgy Mr. Harris became very snarly. “Those two’ve been nothing but trouble to me! They’ve tried to run away twice. Right at the moment they’re chained up in the barn waiting for punishment. What do you want with them?”
    “I’d like to buy them from you. I’m sure they’ll stay on my plantation because I’ve got their mother and father. They’ll keep them under control. I’m sure you can find replacements that are easier to control and who won’t keep running off.”
    “Well,” Mr. Harris said, “I’ll be glad to sell them but I paid a good price for them.”
    Then Dillon asked “Is it OK if my man here goes in to talk to them while we talk business.”
    “OK, but he better be careful and not get too close. Just go through that barn door over there and you’ll see them sitting against the wall.”
    So Buster went into the barn and Dillon accompanied Mr. Harris into the house where they made a deal. Harris got out the original bill of sale to show what he had paid for them and that was exactly what Dillon had to pay. That came to not at all as much as he had expected to pay. Dillon paid in cash; the man liked that, and made out a receipt. It was all over rather quickly and they left the house for the yard again. They spent a few minutes in friendly conversation about the problems of the times. Things like crop prices and general shortages of just about everything.  
    Dillon then explained that they had thirty miles to travel and hoped to make most of it before dark. So they entered the barn and Dillon looked at Buster and spoke first, “We won’t need the chains will we?”
    “No Mr. Mac, I’ve talked with them and they’ll behave for the trip home”.
    “Be careful.” Harris retorted.
    “We will.” Dillon said. “You’ve got the key with you haven’t you?”
    Mr. Harris quickly stepped back after carefully unlocking the chains and the four travelers approached and climbed into the carriage. Harris was astounded to see the brother and sister get in the carriage by themselves and even more astonished to see Dillon allow the captives to sit behind them in the back seat with no restraint what so ever.
    “Do they know where we’re going?” Mac asked.
    Buster answered “I only told them that they’ll have life a lot easier, with plenty to eat and plenty of free time and some schooling if they want it.”
    Dillon turned to the two new arrivals and asked, “Do you folks remember your parents?”
    They both said “Yes.”
    “Did you like them?”
    Portia answered “We loved them.”
    “When did you last see them?”
    “About ten years ago we were torn from them. The last thing I saw of them was my mother screaming and my father holding on to her.”
    “Well tonight you’ll see them again.”
    They just gave him a puzzled look and Buster said “I don’t think they believe you. They don’t expect the truth from white folks.” And he turned to them and told them that they can believe Mr. Mac.   
    The brother and sister weren’t sure if that was true but they wanted to believe it. They were very tired so they covered themselves with a blanket and slept all of the way.
    When they arrived at The Island Plantation it was dark. When Jack met them they told him that they were going directly to Cabin Row which they did and proceeded to Ralph and Sally’s cabin. All four of them went to the door.
    Ralph and Sally were surprised to see the guests but did not recognize the teen agers. They invited the group to come in anyway.
    Dillon started the conversation with “Don’t you know these folks?”
    Sally said “It can’t be.” That was all she could say before she reached out and grabbed Portia. “Ralph it’s our kids!”
    “They will live here now.” Dillon said as he and Buster slipped out to let the family have their reunion.        
    Dillon’s heart was pounding as he hurried home to tell Janie all about the whole day. He was a happy man on this night.
    Sometime in March of 1864 Dillon heard that Charleston Harbor was the site of the first successful submarine attack in history on February 17, 1864. He had trouble believing that the Union navy actually had a ship that could maneuver completely submerged under the water. He wondered out loud; “How could a city defend itself from such a thing as that?”    
    The spring and summer of sixty four went by peacefully and Dillon was seen driving Janie around the plantation hedge rows and wagon roads. The blacks numbered more than fifty by now. They were loath to leave for the north. They knew that the Border States made for dangerous travel and most of them had decided that it wasn’t worth it. The more workers there were in the fields the less work each had to do and the work hours had been cut down a couple more times by Buster. Children no longer worked. They attended school instead and one of the African men liked to preach and held services every Sunday morning in the school. No one worked when they were sick. In fact one of the women that had come to the island was somewhat experienced in nursing and Buster had the idea of starting a clinic and a small cabin was built for that purpose. The idea originated when an elderly black man became too lame to work. As soon as the clinic was ready he was moved in there permanently. So the nurse had a full time job. Every one was informed that if they were sick or injured they should go to the clinic.
    Jack had commented that in the old days the lame man would have been poisoned or taken into the woods and shot. It was against the law in South Carolina to kill a slave unless he or she first struck a white person or if they died accidently during punishment. It was done regularly anyway. White people were just not prosecuted for murdering blacks and it was especially accepted when they were too old to work.
    Dillon was happy with Janie. They never had a cross word pass between them. He seldom left the island during the year of 1864; there wasn’t much reason for going to town as the stores were out of just about everything.
    He took another trip into Charleston in late fall of 1864 and found it to be in complete disarray. Most of the eligible men were off to war. In a way he was glad that he had a twisted leg. On the advice of his lawyer he made a few additional purchases of gold, silver and various gems because Lester had little faith in the confederate money. Dillon had already begun doing just that; in fact that was one reason he came to see the lawyer. He wanted to get the most value in the smallest package.
    Dillon learned that Sam had slipped through to the north and joined the Union army; Lester told Dillon that Abe Lincoln had been reelected President of the Union and that he was sure the war would end soon and so would slavery. Lester had advised burying the valuables in case of more real hardship, that he was sure would come. “Atlanta has been burned to the ground,” Lester told him.
    With that Dillon wasted no time getting back to his home by late evening. He had thought of looking up Matilda to say hello but thoughts of Janie overpowered the urge. It was just a passing thought.
    That night in bed Janie asked, “Mac, do you ever think about going back to the north?”
    “After the war there’ll be no more slavery and we both can go for a visit,” Was his reply.
    Janie took quite a little time thinking on that before saying, “Perhaps.”
    Dillon thought that he detected some negativity to the idea of them both going but he said no more about it at that time.
    Early in the year 1865 The Island Plantation was awakened to a thunderous sound coming from a considerable distance; and when he heard it again a little later he knew it was cannon fire. It lasted for a night and a day before seeming to be getting further away. Dillon knew that the Union army had proceeded from Atlanta to Savannah encountering little resistance; burning everything in their path whenever any resistance was met. Many slave owners were so angry that they fired on the Union soldiers invoking dire consequences. The sounds of war were finally being heard on the island. Later, at the breakfast table, the family talked about nothing else. The sounds were now definitely further away. Buster said, “I believe they’re headed toward Columbia or Charleston or maybe both; I think I’ll ride out to Cabin Row and see if all is well. As he rode off he could see columns of smoke in the distance and knew that buildings were burning.
    Dillon watched Buster from the porch as he left on horseback toward the fields. Glancing toward the bridge he was shocked to see three horsemen in blue uniforms coming across the river. They were well dressed and decorated; obviously ranking officers of a sort. There was a small group of soldiers coming along behind them just approaching the bridge entrance. Behind the soldiers there was a group of seven blacks, four men and three women.
    As the men drew closer they asked, with guns in hand, if there were any soldiers around. When Dillon said no the soldiers got out of their saddles and the officers said, “We must search the house,” and the soldiers proceeded to do so without asking permission as the officers remained in their saddles.
    When they were satisfied with the house they came back outside and the spokesman said “I’m Major Jackson of the Union Army. Is the barn free of soldiers? If you lie you’ll be treated very badly.”
    After being assured that only the black stable man, Jack and his helper, were alone somewhere in the barns, the spokesman said “we must take your horses for our soldiers. And we will be confiscating some foul as we are short of food supplies. I see you have a considerable flock.” As Dillon came down the steps they noticed his lame leg and said, “Since you’ve got a bad leg we won’t force you to help catch some chickens. We’ll take care of it. But you can have your stable man ready the horses to travel.” Then he said “You’re a northerner, what’re you doing here?”
    Dillon answered “I inherited this plantation and came south to dispose of it but the war started before I could settle things here and I kind of got stuck. I’m going back home when it’s all over.”
    “That won’t be a very long time,” the officer replied. “In light of what you’ve told me I won’t take everything; but I’m sure you’re in sympathy with our cause.”
    “Yes I am, of course.”
    Then Major Jackson pointed to the group of Africans that had followed along and said; “My men met with some resistance at the Donnelly place down the road. They were shot at by both Mrs. and Mr. Donnelly and both of them were killed in the scuffle. We don’t like fighting civilians but my men have to protect themselves. We told these black folks that they were free now but they were frightened to leave the plantation. They said they wanted to come here instead. I don’t know why but if that’s what they want it’s OK by me. Do you have room for them?”
    “Yes we have plenty of room.”   
    Jack got the horses bridled while the group of new slaves helped corner some chickens by the corral fence while the soldiers found a few crates. The leader of the soldiers spoke again, “We’re in a rush so we can’t take all of the meat, but by the way we’ll probably be back. And also, it’s because you are a northerner and offer no resistance that you will notice we’re not burning your buildings.”
    Dillon had wondered why he saw smoke in the distance and now he knew.
    Dillon knew that his men had just butchered some pigs and he told Jack and his helper to throw one over one of the horses. He said “here is a present for you Major Jackson. I hope you folks end the war soon. Most of my friends are in the Union army.”
    The soldiers never did come back and Dillon heard from the Morrows that on February 17, 1865 the city of Columbia surrendered to General Sherman’s army, and Wade Hampton's Confederate cavalry retreated from the city and by the end of February the city of Charleston had fallen to the Union and that it was Sherman’s army that had passed bye The Island Plantation when cannon fire was heard.
    One miracle, Buster had managed to save a horse for the plantation. He was at Cabin Row when the soldiers came. Dillon was sorry that Buster hadn’t ridden Molly.
    Buster couldn’t help thinking out loud, “there won’t be any market for cotton without the seaport at Charleston so we might as well just grow food crops this year.”  
    In Mid March a lone soldier in blue was spotted walking across the bridge to the plantation. It was Sam, on his way home to Charleston. He was greeted by Dillon and Janie at the porch steps. As soon as Sam approached the steps Dillon grabbed his hand and shook it vigorously. “How come you aren’t with the rest of the army?”
    “I was wounded back in Atlanta; shot in the leg and slightly burned. The fires were unbelievable. I’m like you now Dillon, I’ve got a lame leg and I’m no longer any use to the Army. I’ve been a Major under General Sherman for about a year. Before that I had a desk job but I volunteered for combat. I left Atlanta with about two hundred soldiers that were no longer needed there and are being transferred to Charleston. So, tell me about your plantation; I know that you’d fired the overseer and got married. That was about all I knew before I went north.”
    Dillon invited him to come into the library where they could talk in comfort. Once there with pipes lit he said “We’ve had no overseer for five years now. He wasn’t needed. The field hands work harder without him. Since I got married I now enjoy a fairly peaceful and happy life here. We’re seldom visited by the outside world. Some of your fellow officers came by and took all but one of our horses.”
    “How do your neighbors accept your marriage? It’s against the law you know.”
    “Our neighbors don’t know about it. At least I don’t think so. The blacks have a communications network, but the owners don’t always get the latest news. And I suspect you Union guys will change the law soon.”
    Sam laughed at that; “That’s right, I don’t believe it’s against the law in the Union. But it’s frowned on.”
    Janie popped into the doorway at that point announcing dinner and seeing Sam she sat down on Dillon’s good knee and said “howdy Sam. Are you staying for the night?”
    “I suppose that I’ll have to after eating one of your dinners; if I remember they’re pretty outstanding and filling.”
    So they enjoyed a good meal with the whole family present then Dillon gave Sam a tour of The Island Plantation which was much different from the last time he’d seen it. Sam changed into civilian clothes; it was no longer safe for him in a Union uniform since he had left the group. He could pass as a wounded Confederate soldier homeward bound. Many of them had no uniforms anyway.
    Sam found the changes to the plantation to be unbelievable. “Dillon you’ve created nothing short of a miracle here, in the middle of a war. How on earth did you do it?”
    “It just happened. The war has passed us by.”
    Just then Buster rode up and Dillon introduced him to Sam as his partner. He had been visiting Cabin Row. Dillon said “How ‘bout showing Sam your School, Church and Clinic.”
    So Sam got to see a few more miracles.
    Then the three men went back to the library and talked, laughed and smoked. Then Dillon spoke saying, “Sam how about staying one more night with us. There’s a barn dance tomorrow night. You’ll love it.”
    The dance as usual was on the second floor of the horse barn. With all of the new arrivals there was quite a crowd. Sam danced with many of the women and laughed at his own tomfoolery. He was surprised at how well Janie played the fiddle. She had been working at it for quite a while now and regularly joined Dillon playing for the dances. Most of the island residents were learning to dance by now and had invented some new steps of their own. For Sam it was a very memorable evening.      
    The next morning Sam left for Charleston which was now in Union hands. Dillon saw that Sam had everything he needed for the trip. He was sorry that he didn’t have an extra horse to lone him but he said that he would encounter people traveling with wagons and he would catch a ride here and there. Dillon was to meet Sam again soon in Charleston.     
    On April 9, 1865 General Robert E. Lee surrendered to Ulysses S. Grant somewhere near Richmond, thus ending the war. Slaves were all free now. Union soldiers went around the south informing the blacks that they were free and could come and go at will and that whites would be prosecuted for bringing any harm to them. Many of them did not know what to do or where to go. This was especially true on The Island Plantation. They did not go hungry. Luckily Sherman’s army didn’t burn the buildings like they did in many places. Crops were in the ground and there were still buried food supplies. Money was worthless, however; Dillon was very careful with and protective of his buried precious metals and gem stones.
    Dillon was getting restless but did not know why. He had a vague feeling that calamity was right around the bend. But, for a few months things went by smoothly. The crops got harvested and most of what was grown was stored or shared with less fortunate neighbors.
    Then one evening in the fall of 1865 Dillon and Janie were sitting in the Parlor and even though it wasn’t cold outside they had a little fire burning in the fireplace. Janie was becoming quiet and withdrawn lately. When she next spoke to Dillon she said, “Dillon, you can go back north now you know.”
    Dillon was stunned, like he had been shot. “Do you want to take a trip sweetheart?”
    “No.”
    “Then what do you mean?”
    Janie’s eyes filled with tears when she said “I know that you’ll leave me Dillon.”
    “How can you be so sure of that?”
    You are a white man and I am a black woman. We’re two very different people. You should marry a white woman. There’s no place we can go without being outcasts.”
    “We’re married, you’re my wife.” Dillon almost choked on his words.
    “A slave wedding; it’s not legal.” Janie said.
    “I love you, Janie.”
    “And I love you, Dillon, but don’t you see it can’t last.” She was sobbing now and Dillon put his hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him and said, “You must have people that you miss, family, friends or neighbors. Don’t you want to visit them?”
    After a pause Dillon said, “I haven’t got a family that I know of, I was always going to do some research to find out if they exist. I’ve got some friends, school mates, folks at the church and the family that adopted me.”   
    After that Janie was very loving with Dillon but stuck to her conviction that he should at least pay a visit to his old home up north, and most likely would decide to stay. He finally told her that he would go, but just for a short visit. In his heart he knew that if they remained married they could never leave the island. He could see that Janie wanted to be with her own people. They were brought here against their will from Africa. She could even decide to go there. He didn’t want to admit it but he knew that he shouldn’t come back. He should let her have a life of freedom whatever that might bring.
    One night he sat thinking about it all and he called Buster into the library and offered him tobacco and both lit pipes. “Buster,” Dillon started out, “I’m going for a visit up north. I may not come back. That depends on a lot of things. You’ve been almost single handedly, running the plantation. I’m going to sign it over to you; put it in your name.”
    “I don’t have a name other than just Buster.”
    “You can become Buster MacDonald. Take my name. That’s what many of the African Americans are doing, using the last name of their previous owner. Many never had a family name.”
    “So I’ll go from being property to being a property owner!” Buster exclaimed.
    “That’s the best way I can think of to handle things. A few of the blacks have left, for a taste of freedom, but many are staying to help run the place and some that left have come back. I know that you won’t let them down. In a few days you and I’ll go to Charleston to see the lawyers and do the paper work, then I’ll see you off on your way back to The Island Plantation and I’ll board a train for points north.” Dillon stopped there as he noted a confused look on Buster’s face.
    “What about Janie?” Buster asked.
    “She’ll be staying here.” He replied and Buster remained quiet as he saw tears coming to Dillon’s eyes. “This is very hard for me. But we’ve agreed it’s for the best.”
    Buster knew that Dillon had no plan to come back.
    When the time came for their departure for Charleston and they had said their goodbyes Jack had the carriage ready to drive them to the nearest Railroad about 10 miles away. Janie stayed inside as they left but on the bridge Dillon looked back and saw her watching from the steps.
    Jack left them at the station where they boarded the next train for Charleston.
    Seated in a coach Buster said, “Mr. Mac,” and smiled, “this probably won’t cheer you up but I want you to know that I’m planning to marry.”
    “Marry who?”
    “Who’d you think?” Buster answered, “Nanny, of course, I’m sure you knew that.”
    “I guess I did know that. You can be a father to Janie.”
    After completing business in the Lawyer’s office and visiting with Sam and Lester, Buster and Dillon hugged as brothers. Buster boarded a train heading west while Dillon took one to the north. He had brought along a bag containing gold and gems and sold a few in Charleston for Union money, noticing that much of the city still lay in ruin.
    
Chapter 14 Back Up North
    
The trip north took much more time than he had planned on. There were many detours to avoid bridges that were not yet repaired and torn up road beds.
    When the train finally made its stop in the village a few miles from his old home he stepped out onto the platform and saw that not much had changed. One thing he hadn’t missed was the snow. It was now late January of sixty six and the snow was drifted around the station.
    He stowed his luggage at the station and walked to the bank with the bag containing his valuables making sure that it was safe. He exchanged some gold for money which unlike the confederate bills could be used to buy things.
    After that he went to the livery stable and rented a horse which he rode out to the Chapman farm. He rapped on the door which was answered by Mabel. Seeing Dillon she dropped the dish she was holding and threw her arms around his neck. She hadn’t hugged him since he was a small boy but now she was doing just that. “Stanley’s in bed, he’s had a small stroke and doesn’t get around like he used to. He can walk with the aid of crutches but he doesn’t like to do it much. Come in and you can visit with him and maybe smoke a pipe with him. You look healthy.” She said all that in one mouth full.
    Stanley was also happy to see him and they did smoke their pipes and have a good chat. They had not communicated at all since the South Carolina secession several years ago. They had much to talk about. Stanley was concerned about planting season coming up. He could find hired hands to help with the weeding and hoeing but plowing and planting required experienced farmers.
    Dillon volunteered to help, but later, in a way he was sorry he had done that. It would keep him here until summer. He already missed Janie. The thought that he might never see her again gnawed at him constantly. He had concluded that she wanted it that way however. He wasn’t actually sure what he wanted.  
    Mabel said that his old room was turned into an office and would need a little time to get it in shape for him. He told her that he could afford to stay at the hotel in town for a while and would prefer that until he’d seen all his old school friends and the dance band and he needed time to get acquainted with the area again.
    So after eating one of Mabel’s delicious dinners complete with pies he rode back into town, returned the horse and checked into the hotel. He made arrangements to stay there for a couple of months at least. Then he sat down and composed a long letter to Janie and in words that he knew she could read and he filled her in on the trip. He was careful not to get too familiar so as not to upset her. He did include his current address and asked her to keep him informed on the unfolding of her life, which she didn’t do.
    The next day he looked up one of the music makers that he used to play with at dances and discovered that a barn dance was coming up the following Saturday night. He was asked to join the band again and help out with the music. He said “OK but I may want to dance some as well.”
    He thought of visiting June but didn’t until he saw her at the dance. He almost didn’t recognize her as she had put on a little weight and looked much older than since he’d last seen her. They sat and talked throughout most of the evening when he wasn’t making music, but they didn’t dance. He learned that June had married, about a year after he’d left, to a soldier who never came back from the war. She was left with a child who is nearly of school age now; a boy. He enjoyed the conversation with June but there was no spark of romance involved. They talked like old friends and no more.
    Dillon met some old buddies at the dance and got several dinner invitations most of which he kept. The food was different however, from what he was used to.
    Mostly, other than spending time with June at the dance, he got reacquainted with the musicians and made arrangement to attend their practice sessions twice a week.
    He spent his time visiting around town and frequently riding out to see the Chapmans. Time passed slowly and he had not heard from Janie at all since being here, “I guess she wants to forget,” he thought “I guess that’s wise; she wants to forget the past and make a clean start. But, I miss her terribly; I can’t get her out of my head.”
    One night he was visiting with Mabel and Stanley after eating a good meal. Dillon was sort of dreamy when he asked, “How do you feel ‘bout black people? I know that you don’t have any reason to know any around here.”
    Mabel answered first saying “I never thought about it much but I suppose some of them are just as smart as we are.”
    Dillon looked at her and said “When the war ended I was the owner of over sixty slaves.”
    “I’m sure you took good care of them.”
    “They took care of me. They cooked my meals and cleaned my house. Most of them worked in the fields. I had trouble finding things to do.”
    “How did you manage so many?”
    “I mostly left them alone. They knew what to do. They grew cotton, tobacco, rice and all sorts of things. But, they couldn’t leave the plantation.”
    Then Stanley spoke “Why couldn’t they leave once in a while?”
    Dillon answered “Because it was against the law. It was all very complicated. But I can tell you one thing for sure, they are just as intelligent as white folks and it was wrong to enslave them. Down there it was a way of life. I wanted to let them go but couldn’t. There was no place for them to go. Black people traveling about were assumed to be run away slaves. It wasn’t their status that made them slaves; it was the color of their skin.”
    Stanley thought for a while before saying, “I guess I would have been against slavery.”
    Dillon then asked “What do you think of black and white people marrying each other?”
    Stanley said he didn’t think it would be right. But Mabel said “I guess if they loved each other it would be OK.”
    Mabel wondered what the children would be like in a mixed marriage.
    Dillon told her bluntly that many of the white slave owners impregnated their slave women and the children were various shades of brown and he remarked, “But if the mother was a slave the children were slaves according to the law.”
    The family didn’t argue about it, they just left it at that.      
    Spring finally came along. Then Dillon got busy tilling the Chapman’s fields. They had a couple good horses and good farm equipment making it easier. He could ride a horse into town at night and leave it at the hotel stable overnight. His horse Molly had passed on a year ago.
    He was a little out of condition as he had not worked for a number of years so he decided to hire a helper. He asked at the general store about the possibility of finding a hired man for a couple months and he was told of a black man that had been sleeping in the stable behind the hotel and was looking for work. Just before dark Dillon went to the stable and found his man. “What’s your name?” he asked.
    “Jeb,” he responded.
    “Well Jeb I understand you need work,”
    “I sure do, all I have eaten lately is left over food that the hotel cook needs to get rid of. They won’t let me in there but he hands it out the door to me every night. He’s a good man.”
    “Tomorrow I’ll pick you up with a buggy ‘bout noon time. I need to ride out to the farm to get the carriage in the morning. I’ll bring you some lunch and we can get started. I assume you have done some farming.”
    “I was a slave all my life until Abe came along. I’m over fifty now.”
    “OK Jeb, my name is Dillon MacDonald, some call me Mac and I’m working the Chapman farm. They’ve never hired a black man but they’ll accept you in a bit. Do you mind sleeping in the barn? They don’t have room in the house so I sleep nights at the hotel.”
    “I’ve been sleeping on straw most of my life. It makes a soft bed.”
    So the next morning Dillon rode out to the Chapman house and told Mabel and Stanley that he had hired a man and would pay his wages as a loan until after the harvest was in. Also he said he was going to pay back the travel money that Stanley had given him. “By the way he’s a black man named Jeb; an ex-slave.”
    “Well,” Stanley said “at least he won’t cost as much as a white man.”
    “I intend to pay him the going rate. And I told him he can sleep in the barn. I’d appreciate it if you’d let him take his meals on the porch chair, I know you don’t have room at the small kitchen table, but, you know the barn smell can kind of spoil your appetite.”
    “That’s fine,” Mabel said, “I’ll see that he gets fed well.”
    Stanley took a pull on his pipe as he asked “The guy won’t steal will he?”
    Dillon replied with a grin, “It’s the politicians that’ll rob you blind, not some poor half starved slave that’s just been freed. I’ll stake my reputation that he’ll be the best worker you’ve ever had. And as I still have some funds left, perhaps enough for the next several months I’ll remain sleeping at the hotel in town. I get to visit with my friends and practice with the band.
    Soon it was summer and the weather was good; just enough rain to make things grow. Jeb stayed on and Stanley liked his work. Mabel enjoyed cooking for him; she said it was nice to have someone appreciate her cooking. So Mac –that is what Jeb called him- fixed up a room upstairs in the barn. The Chapmans would need a hired man around in the future and Jeb was happy there. He felt good that the Chapmans were getting used to having a black man around, the first one they had ever known.
    Dillon had stopped in a couple times to visit with June. She lived alone with her son in the village now. He had also seen her at a couple barn dances. She was friendly toward him like when they were kids but there was none of the romance left in their relationship. She told him about falling in love with a soldier and how sad she was when he was killed. “I guess I’ll eventually find another man I can love.”
    “I hope you do, everybody deserves to be loved.”
    “Oh I will I’m sure. I’ve pretty much gotten over Charlie, my husband, and I’ve got a wonderful little boy to love.”
    Then Dillon told her about Janie and much of the whole South Carolina experience. The most he had talked about it since coming back north. They both felt better after having a long talk and vowed to remain good friends.  June was not shocked when he told her that Janie was black in fact she said that she thought it was kind of neat. “If you love somebody enough, Dillon, you can overcome a lot of things. Everybody’s different.”
    “I’m really glad that you feel that way. It makes it easier to remain good friends.”  
    Dillon was thinking on that, one evening while lying on his hotel bed. It was July fourth of sixty six and he was listening to the sound of fire crackers and the occasional firing of a gun somewhere outside when he heard a soft knocking on his door. “I wonder who the hell that could be,” he said to himself as he yelled, “the door aint locked, come on in.” The door opened slowly, it was Janie.  
    “Janie, Janie,” was all he could say before he pulled her into the room. He was so shocked that he hadn’t noticed, until he shut the door, that she was carrying something in her arms. It was moving and soon started to cry. It was a baby. Then another shock hit him, it has to be my baby; our baby.
    “I can’t be in your room.” She said.
    “Why can’t you?”
    “I was told down stairs that they don’t allow blacks in the hotel, I had to ask him twice to let me come up and get you.”
    So Dillon went to the manager at the front desk while Janie followed with the child. He soon learned the reality of the situation and that was simply that he wasn’t going to budge.
    Dillon said “OK Janie, follow me.” And they left the hotel and started down the street. “I never got a chance to ask you, is it a boy or a girl?”
    “It’s a boy Mac, and he is two months old today.”
    Janie looked really tired and the only place nearby that he could come up with quickly was June’s house, so he knocked on her door. When it opened she knew right away that it was Janie with him. “Come in you guys look tired.” She exclaimed.
    Mac gave June a quick explanation about why they left the hotel. June was angered by the story and said so. Then they all sat down and Dillon made the introductions, “This is Janie, my wife, and this is my son; I don’t yet know his name, but Janie this here is my old friend June.”
    “His name is James Roy MacDonald.” Janie was quick to say.
    After resting for a short while June got some food from the pantry and put together a quick snack. “It’s getting late so let’s eat and then I’ll put my boy Chuck on the couch and you two, or I should say three, can sleep in his room.”
    “That’s really imposing on you.” Dillon said, but June insisted. She and Janie were getting along really well so the invitation was accepted. They had a very good conversation and discussed all of the recent news before retiring. Janie had to borrow a night gown since she had left her trunk at the station. “It’ll be safe there overnight.” Dillon told her. So when they finally went to bed it was very late.  
    The next morning after enjoying a good breakfast Mac left Janie and the baby with June and went to the livery to rent a buggy. He could borrow one from the Chapmans but wanted to make sure that Janie’s trunk was secure. He drove back to June’s place and picked up his little family and headed for the Chapman farm.
    Upon arriving at the farm the three visitors entered the kitchen –Dillon never knocked unless the door was locked- and they found Mabel and Stanley at the table drinking coffee. Dillon introduced Janie and the child to his adoptive parents. “Are you married?” Mabel asked.
    “We had a slave wedding where a couple jumps over a broom stick.” Janie answered to save Dillon the embarrassment.
    Then Dillon poured coffee for himself and Janie and commented that they had stayed at Junes home overnight but don’t want to impose on her hospitality for very long. “She’s a dear friend but she has very little income. She does laundry and ironing for people in town. I left five dollars under my plate after breakfast but that won’t keep her very long.”
    “Are you going to stay at the hotel for a while longer? Can you afford it?” Stanley asked.
    “I can afford it but my wife would have to sleep in the stable with the baby. They don’t allow black people in the hotel. I know that Jesus slept in a stable for a while but there are no wise men to bring us gifts and stuff.” Mac smiled. I don’t suppose we could make some alterations to this house to accommodate three more souls?”
    Mabel and Stanley looked at each other for what seemed like a long time before Stanley answered. “I don’t think it would look good. If it was just us, maybe, but we have many friends that would stop coming around. It just wouldn’t look right.”
    Mabel added, “We wouldn’t be able to show ourselves in church. I enjoy singing in the choir now. Those ladies are good Christians but they wouldn’t accept an ex African slave, I know for sure. I’m sure your wife understands.”
    Dillon paused then said, “Never mind we’ll find a way, we have to, there are crops to get in and Jeb can’t do it all alone. By the way have there been any repercussions from having him around?”
    “No, nobody knows what you pay him and they know that he lives in the barn.” Stanley said.
    “Well, we must ride back into town and make some arrangements. We had such a good visit last night with my old friend June. She’s such a good person. She loves my little son and by the way his name is James Roy MacDonald. I guess you forgot to ask, and he’s 2 months old.”
    Upon arriving back in town they stopped back at June’s and had lunch. Dillon explained the cold reception they had received from the Chapman Family. June smiled as she said, “I want you to make yourselves comfortable here until you decide what to do. I don’t worry what people say, they already have plenty to say about me. You see I had Chuck just about four months after we were married. We couldn’t get married sooner because he was busy with the war. He died fighting for freedom for folks like Janie. Now that they are free the Union doesn’t want them. They keep showing up in the north and are treated worse than in the south. People are so two faced. They go to war for a cause that they didn’t want to begin with. What fools they are. Oh golly I’m on a soap box now. I better calm down.” She laughed at herself but they all knew she was dead serious.
    Dillon was suddenly on his feet, “There’s an old vacant house about two miles from the Chapman farm that used to belong to a hired man. I think it’s on the property next to Stanley and Mabel’s farm. I can fix it up and make it livable within a week. Can you put up with us for that long?”
    June said, “Of course I can, in a way we’re both outcasts in the community. You two could stay here forever and I wouldn’t care.”
    So Mac took a ride the next morning and within a half of a day’s time he was owner of the old house and before the end of the day he had hired a carpenter to start fixing the leaking roof and sagging porch along with a few other flaws. He was able to continue working the land on the Chapman place.
    Sunday came and Dillon, Janie and June attended church services along with their children. This was the first time he had seen the Chapmans since their discussion in the kitchen that day. Janie was the only black face in the congregation, but Dillon vowed to make Jeb come to church hereafter, even if he had to pay him for the time. Folks were reluctant to sit too close to them but soon the church filled and some folks had to sit nearby. There was a lot of whispering among the congregation and some finger pointing. When it was over and they were on the way out Dillon said to June, “I’m sorry to have embarrassed you like that.”
    “Like what?”
    “I know there was a lot of buzzing going on and many folks pointing fingers at us.”
    June answered “that goes on every week but I keep going. They think they’re being good Christians that way, but I wonder. I still believe that God loves me so I keep going.”
    The day soon came when the MacDonald family moved into the new home. There were still a few things that Janie wanted fixed but she didn’t complain much. It was a home. Dillon explained that he was getting short of money but soon the crops would be in and he would get a share of the Chapman’s income.
    A few weeks later a bank note came in the mail from Buster who had cleared some of the woods and sold some plots. He still had plenty of stored goods from last year’s crops and things were going good for him and Nanny. Mac learned that Janie had written to him and mentioned that they were lacking in funds to complete the house restoration. They now had plenty.
    After the Harvest was in they had a little time to rest. Janie and Mac were happy together although still outcasts from the community in general. One good break came when the band leader came to him asking for help. They had lost two members including Phil, and only John, the guitar player and him, Brad, the piano player were left.
    Dillon said, “I’ll be glad to rejoin the band on one condition.”
    “And what might that be?”
    “That my wife Janie be allowed to play also. She is as good a fiddler as I am and she knows all of the dance songs we play.”
    “Let me bounce that off John and get back to you.”
    Both John and Brad showed up at the MacDonald home the next day and announced that they wanted the couple to come to practice next Saturday and they would see how they all sounded together. They had checked it out with John’s father the store owner and he said OK to them all practicing there for a trial period anyway.
    Dillon knew what was meant by that but said nothing and soon they were playing for dances again. Folks seemed to accept a black musician more readily than a black parishioner. That made no sense to Janie and Mac but they went along, they loved to play music together.
    It was midwinter of 1866/67 when Dillon was awakened one morning by Jeb. Jeb had been running and was out of breath. When he was finally able to speak he said that Stanley Chapman had died during the night.
    A few weeks after Stanley was laid to rest Dillon was approached by Mabel Chapman while coming out of church. Mabel took hold of his hand and said “Dillon, I want you and your wife to come to my house for dinner tonight. I’ve baked your favorite pies and I’m making your favorite turkey with yams.”
    “What brought about your change of heart, Mabel?”
    “Mac, I apologize for our behavior, but I could never get Stanley to accept a black person in our home. He put up with Jeb around the barn, especially after you fixed up an area where he could cook his meals and live pretty much by himself. But Dillon, I missed you all the years you were gone south and I miss you all the more now that you’re back. Please come to dinner and bring Janie.” Mabel was crying now and Janie gave her a handkerchief.
    Then Janie spoke “of course we’ll come for dinner, Mabel.”
    That evening at the table Mabel confessed that she was so lonely that she had lost the will to live. Then she delivered a bombshell. “Dillon, I want you and your family to move in here with me. I have enough money to build an addition onto the house. It would make me very happy.”
    So the MacDonald family did move in to the Chapman house and although it was a little crowded at first, the carpenters soon had two new bedrooms added to the back of the house. Jeb was allowed to move into the house that Dillon owned just two miles away and continued to work on the farm.
    It wasn’t long before another child was conceived and life was becoming joyful for the family.
    The band played on and there was dancing.
    
Chapter 15 South Again
    
It was in the fall of 1868, the crops were in on the Chapman farm when a letter came from Buster. Dillon corresponded regularly with him. Buster relayed that he was clearing some more of the back woods and creating plots for share cropping. He was thinking of selling land to some of the ex slaves who had remained on the plantation faithfully. His idea was to share crop for a few years until the purchase price was paid off and then turning them loose with their own land. “Many of them are excited about the plan.” He had said. He was also selling timber.
    “The only problem is with the paper work,” Buster wrote. “I need some legal help. Perhaps you could talk to your lawyer friends for me. I used a local Lawyer for the simple sale of a couple lots but this is getting complicated. I want to do it right.” signed Buster.
    “Buster, I’m considering a trip to South Carolina soon and planed a social call with the Lawyers and will talk to them about your problem.” signed Mac.
    That night at dinner Dillon brought up the subject of making a trip south. Janie, who was about three months from giving birth to child number two, said “Mac, I want to go with you. I want to see Nanny and Buster and Jack and all the others.
    “What about you Mabel?” Dillon asked “would you be lonesome?”
    “I would but you folks can have your vacation. The crops are in. I’ve been alone before.”
    That night Dillon laid awake thinking. He was really much happier in the south and he knew that Janie missed the folks. The thought came to him that they should just pack up and move back to the plantation. It belonged to Buster now but they always worked together and he might get a kick out of calling Buster Boss.
    So the next morning he said to Mabel, “How about selling this place and we all go to South Carolina to live? You’ve had a lot of sickness in the winter months and the climate would help you tremendously.”
    Mabel replied without hesitation, “You folks are my family now and I want to be where ever you are. James is over two years old and I couldn’t stand to have him taken away. That’s my life now.”  
    Dillon was excited now as he said, “How about I go into town today and visit the bank. I’ll see what my accountant thinks we could do.”
    So Mac did just that, He talked to his advisor who knew of a party that wanted to lease a farm with the option to buy. He vouched for the folk’s good reputation and ability to pay. Dillon was even more excited now as he brought the news home. They were all in agreement. “Let’s go south.”
    The deal went through very quickly. The Bronson family wanted to move right in. There was one last problem to be ironed out. Dillon had, with Mabel’s help, annexed the land that Jeb’s house sat on and now ne put it in Jeb’s name. He wanted Jeb to have the place for his own. It was just a place to live and a plot of land that was big enough to make a living on if he had to and a promise of a job as the Bronson’s hired man. The Bronson’s agreed that they needed a hired man and were delighted to have one with such high recommendation. Black farm hands were not so rare in the area anymore.
    The MacDonald family made a last minute visit with June who had become almost part of the family. The previous night they had invited the band members to dinner at Mabel’s place and had a lot of good laughs. They also had accepted the MacDonald family.
    While visiting with June Janie got an idea and without consulting anyone else she asked; “June, why don’t you bring Chuck and come with us? You have no life here. I don’t believe you’re happy in this town.”
    “I have no money Janie, nothing to travel on. It would be expensive.”
    “If you had the money, June, would you go?”
    “I’d leave this place in a minute.” She answered.
    “That settles it. You’re going with us. I just received another bank note from Buster that I haven’t even told Mac about yet. It’s extra money for the trip. Buster’s doing very well business wise. Crop prices are high in the south.”
    “Don’t you think you should consult your husband first, Janie?”
    “My husband is my property now.” She said laughingly. “He’ll do as I tell him to do.” And that was what actually happened. Dillon was ecstatic about the idea. He had been concerned about June. The MacDonald family made up her entire circle of friends.  
    So June quickly filled a trunk with all of what she and Chucky owned in the world. Her rent was paid in advance and she owed nothing. It took her all of about a half day to be ready. She didn’t waste time thinking it over.   
    The trip to Charleston was accomplished entirely by boat for comfort. Traveling with three women and two children made it necessary. They took the canal and Hudson River to New York City where they connected with a large steamer. All of their furniture was left with the Bronson family and they were traveling with just several trunks. Dillon had wired Sam and Lester about their coming and so they were expected.
    Upon arrival, they checked into a hotel which had to allow blacks because there were still Union soldiers occupying the Confederacy. They called it reconstruction. The opportunity for equal treatment was to be short lived, however, but the travelers did not know what lie ahead. It really seemed odd that Janie was allowed to stay at a hotel in the south but wasn’t allowed in the hotel in the north. What a mixed up world Dillon thought.
    After breakfast the next morning he left the family lounging in the hotel while he walked to the law office where he was greeted by Betty. Soon he found himself in the company of Sam and Lester with pipes burning renewing old acquaintances.
    He soon learned that Sam, still a bachelor, was temporarily staying in the Jameson home. Sam had come back from the war penniless and the law practice had never gotten back to its previous level. So Dillon suggested that they all get together at a fine restaurant near the hotel for dinner. Betty can come along too.
    So that is what they did. They reserved a table for ten and a high chair. Dillon, Janie with James, Mabel, Sam, Lester, Lester’s wife, June, Chucky and Betty were all seated and enjoying some appetizers. Dillon had an idea. “Sam since business is slow and you’re homeless, why don’t you come to The Island Plantation and stay for a while?” Then he went on to explain what Buster was up to and how he, Sam could help. “There’s plenty of room in the mansion and we could build another house when we get rich again.” He was smiling when he made the last remark but he knew it would come to be.
    Sam agreed to at least give it a try.     
    One last thing Dillon wanted to do was to show Mabel and June the auction block which was still pretty much intact though obviously unused.
    The next morning the travelers boarded a train which took them to a village near the plantation. There they rented a buggy for the rest of the trip. Jack and Bo were employed to return the buggy.
    Upon arrival they were greeted - after the brief encounter with Jack - by Buster and Nanny. Mabel was overwhelmed by the size of the mansion but she was comforted by the likable couple who occupied it. Likewise June was very impressed.
    A few days later they were joined by Sam Scruggs who had things to wrap up before leaving Lester.
    Buster agreed to employ Mabel and June to fill the same positions that Janie and Nanny used to occupy. This time the positions were not occupied by slaves. They were paid along with room and board. So after dinner the new family got acquainted and reacquainted in the parlor after which the men had a smoke in the library.
    There was plenty of room for all to sleep. Buster and Nanny had occupied the master bedroom and offered it to Dillon and Janie but they preferred the adjoining rooms that Nanny and Janie had previously occupied. This gave James Roy a room while still being in hearing range. Mabel picked a room as did Sam when he arrived. There were enough rooms left for June and Chucky to have their own. Buster said he would make the rooms occupied by June and son into adjoining rooms within days. This arrangement was fine for all involved.
    The next day the men got busy laying out the lots to be cleared and homes to be constructed. Some of these were to be for share croppers and some to be developed and sold outright. Sam laid out contracts whereby share croppers could take ownership of the properties in five years. This plan was reserved exclusively for those who had previously been slaves on the plantation.
    The African Americans could come and go freely because the Union soldiers had an office in Maryville which was occupied by an officer and often visited by troops. Their main purpose was to protect the rights of the citizens black and white and to settle any disputes. They maintained order. It was so peaceful on the island that Sam decided to stay and eventually built a house nearby the mansion. Sam opened a law office in the village three miles away and did quite well.
    The MacDonald child number two was born in the mansion and was named Stanley. They hoped the next one would be a girl.
    Soon the Saturday night dances resumed over the horse barn and Janie enjoyed playing the fiddle along with Mac. This gave Sam an opportunity to get better acquainted with June. It naturally followed that they fell in love and after a few months of courtship they were married. They got along famously and June did some rearranging of the new house built for Sam. It was also enlarged a couple of times to accommodate periodic additions to the Scruggs family. Chucky was adopted by Sam who learned to love him.
    Things remained peaceful for a few more years on the island before trouble started. The Union soldiers grew weary of the reconstruction, as they called it. By the middle of 1877 the last of the Union troops were gone. What happened next was very swift. There was a lot of left over resentment in the south in general and it was particularly prevalent in South Carolina.
    It wasn’t long before blacks were being barred from almost everything and everyplace. Beatings became common place, sometimes worse than during slavery. The peaceful folks on the island began to hear rumors of lynching and worse. Buster warned all of the inhabitants to be careful in town and don’t go unless you have to.
    It was in the winter of 1888/89 that trouble came to the island. Buster was prepared. Without telling Dillon or Sam he had distributed guns to those who didn’t have them. Every one of the islanders was armed. He had decided that if trouble came it would involve close range encounters so he decided on simple hunting shot guns. They were also useful for shooting an occasional turkey. But an ad hoc home militia was formed.
    It happened late one night that horses were heard on the bridge. About twenty riders came up to the plantation house and called for the owner. Dillon went to the door. He wondered what happened to Buster although he couldn’t blame him for not showing himself in light of all the rumors going around. “What’s this all about Mac yelled out.”
    “We’ve come for Porgy; A young black man. We know he lives on the island.”
    “Why do you want Porgy?”
    “He made some very distasteful remarks to one of these men’s wife, a white woman.” At that point the men just galloped down the wagon road toward the sharecropper’s places.
    Dillon armed himself but didn’t follow them. He knew he was outnumbered and didn’t think the men would do serious harm to Porgy. But after about a quarter hour they returned with Porgy in chains. Upon closer inspection he noticed a hangman’s noose around Porgy’s neck. Some of the men were carrying torches so he could see clearly. He shouted “What the hell is going on here?”
    Just then he heard a voice from the river bank. It came from just over the edge of an embankment leading down very steeply to the river so the source of the sound could not be seen, but he heard, “get down Dillon there is going to be shooting.”
    Dillon yelled back “don’t do it your outnumbered.”
    “No we aint.” At that point a blast from at least twenty to thirty shotguns ripped the air.
    “You fellows should know better than to try to stop us, we are taking this boy to the village.” One of the riders said.
    Another volley of shots followed. One of the men had his horse shot out from under him. The shot didn’t damage the horse too badly but it threw the man who was riding it and ran off. Then another shout came from the bank, “the bridge is closed. It’s not a public bridge.”
    Just then the horsemen decided to make for the bridge but were stopped by a terrific blast which split the air and sent burning pieces of the bridge high into the air and falling into the crowd of men. Fire and smoke were visible for miles around. The center section of the bridge was gone. It was obvious that some of the visiting men were injured at least slightly. They were all dismounted by now.
    Another shout “who is the man that feels his wife was abused? I don’t have all day. Which one of you is the man?” At that point someone pointed to a man that was in the back. “OK I want that man to unchain the boy and very carefully remove the rope from his neck.” That was accomplished with some delay while all remained quiet. “Now apologize to Porgy.” Nothing happened until another shot gun blast rang out. Then the man said something unintelligible. “I didn’t hear that. Please say out loud, I am sorry, I made a mistake.” This time the response was audible. Then the voice from the river bank said “There is only one way off this island now and that is to swim and you boys have until I count to twenty five to get to it, then we start shooting. We missed you purposely before but we can shoot much more accurately than that.”
    “We’ll all drown.”
    “I hope so.”
    With that some of the men started to lead the horses toward the river.
    Again the booming voice was heard, “those aint you fellows regular horses your riding. I guess you were hoping not to be recognized. Most of you aint from around here I can see that. I’ve seen some of you before but you aint going to see any of us. You can leave the horses when you start swimming. We need horses. Now you best get swimming. I don’t feel like burying you all.”
    So slowly the men started slipping into the water. It was quite cold.
    “You’ll do better if you take your shoes off,” the voice rang out.
    And that is what they did. Soon they were gone. Jack and Bo put the new horses in the coral.
    The blacks gradually left their posts on the river bank. No one saw who they were but the voice sounded a lot like Buster.
    The bridge was a total wreck. There was no way to fix it except to build a new one. There was a large gap taken out of the middle of the bridge.
    Sam and June were in the village where they had sleeping rooms in the back of Sam’s office building for use when they had business in town. Chucky was with them so they stayed there for a while allowing Sam to continue his work.
    A few months went by with no traffic on or off the island. Porgy was hidden in a secret hideout for a while. The river was watched constantly for boats. No one came or went. The sharecroppers were all supplied with horses, from the twenty that were left behind by the swimmers, after they were inspected for any kind of markings or brands. There were none.
    One day Dillon was riding along the river bank when he heard yelling from the other side. It was Sam. He wanted to bring a man over to talk business.
    When Sam arrived with his passenger in the row boat he said, “Why don’t we go to the library and have a smoke and talk.”
    “Why don’t we?”
    So they retired to the library and lit up, then Dillon said “perhaps I should get Buster.”
    The man said “He’s black isn’t he?”
    “Yes but he owns The Island Plantation.”
    Then Sam injected, “We can’t talk business without him. You’ll have to put your prejudice aside for a spell.”
    So Buster was found. When the four men were gathered together and all smoking vigorously Sam introduced his guest. “This man is employed by the governor of this state. It doesn’t matter what his title is but he is authorized to make a deal. First of all, I talked him out of calling in the militia to take over the island by force. There’s no legal way they could have done it anyway. Legalities don’t seem to make much difference lately when whites are dealing with blacks. That saddens me. OK to begin with three men were drowned the night they had to swim the river. The rest were lucky.”
    Dillon spoke, “I have no idea who was responsible for that.”
    Sam pointed to the other man and said, “I want Michael to talk now for a minute.”
    So Michael began, “As you know the south took a real beating during the war. I’ll get right to the point. This island produces a lot of cotton and rice. A lot of those kinds of goods are selling in Europe now. We want you fellows to produce every scrap you can this year and I have a buyer that will pay premium prices.”
    “We have no bridge to carry things out of here.”
    “That’s where politics enters into it. I can get public funds to build a bridge, maybe two bridges. We can start on that project right away.
    Then Buster chimed in, “How do I know that some hooligans won’t use the bridge to come over and lynch some of my share croppers. I’d rather not have a bridge.”
    “As a representative of the governor’s office I can guarantee you protection under the law.”
    “We thought we had that before.”
    “Well all I can say is that you have my word and I can make things happen. Sam will attest to that. And if anything goes wrong you can always blow up the new bridge.”
    The governor’s man kept his word. Peace was restored to The Island Plantation. There were bumps along the way but life went on. They were even able to hold a barn dance once in a while. Sam and June loved them as did the sharecroppers. Dillon completely forgot about his lame leg when he danced and for that matter so did Sam.
    The Sunday church services were still held in Buster’s school house which again became illegal, both the church and the school. Mabel taught Janie to sing in the choir.
    Almost everything became illegal for blacks but the Jim Crow laws were ignored on the island. Sam maintained his contact with the governor’s office.
    The islanders continued to live together peacefully while the rest of the country was falling apart around them. They loved each other. That was their secret weapon.                    
    
Epilog
    
It was the year 1911 when Dillon and Janie finally retired from farming but they remained on The Island Plantation. Their six children had taken over the operation entirely now. All of the children had attended Tuskegee Normal and Industrial Institute which was founded by Booker T. Washington, an ex-slave.
    After living in the north for a period of two and one half years Janie and Dillon had moved south again and about twenty years ago, when Mabel passed on, they inherited the Chapman farm and sold it to the leasers. They had given the old house that Dillon had bought before moving into the Chapman place, to Jeb along with enough acreage to prosper. The happy couple was contented now to just enjoy the beauty of the plantation.
    Janie had a garden made up of all kinds of flowers. She loved to plant things, watch them grow and bloom. The magnolias were out and you could just smell the springtime in the air. Buster and Nanny had been gone now for fifteen years and she still missed them. They had shared the mansion for so many years. The portion of the island that had still belonged to Buster when he passed away was again inherited by Dillon.
    Sam and June had stayed and had children who prospered. They found work on and around the plantation. They all had grandchildren now.
    Much of the island had been cleared after the war ended and plots of land were sold to those who had previously been slaves on the plantation; at least those who had stayed after emancipation.
    A small village had emerged on the island after the construction of a second and much better bridge, and roadways. The main street was named Cabin Row. The village extended to both sides of the river and in time it could, in fact, claim more residents than Maryville three miles down the river where they used to shop and sell crops. Island City it came to be called and it was bustling with activity. It became the center of commerce for the entire county. In fact it became the county seat.
    Dillon and Janie were not readily accepted by folks in the south, being a mixed couple. Black and white marriages were again against the law but they didn’t care, they kept it kind of quiet and besides they had each other and in time people got used to them. They played music for local dances and came to be in demand for all sorts of occasions. Janie discovered that she had a good singing voice while attending church with Mabel and she developed into quite a celebrity, singing and playing the fiddle along with Dillon. They soon added a few more people and instruments to form a band.     
    There is not much more to say except that progress never disturbed the lives of the MacDonald family. They just seemed to be part of the Island as life went on.
    
The End