Read The Wedding Gift Online

Authors: Marlen Suyapa Bodden

The Wedding Gift (37 page)

“You are more knowledgeable than I about plantation management, but I know that Mary bought her sons’ freedom, and thus it would not be unusual if she is similarly freed. What I suggest is this: you could purchase the rest of her family that is still enslaved as a lot and take them to Mobile County with you. I’m sure Mary would move there to be close to them and would work on your plantation as a freed person.”

“I can see why Cornelius put so much trust in you,” Charles said.

We called the freedmen back in, and Mr. Harris told Emmeline the welcome news about Mary, but he warned her not to say anything to her yet. He said that he would handle the purchase and would draft manumission papers. He then dismissed them.

“Now to the difficult part, speaking with your sons, Mrs. Allen.”

I sent a servant to call them and my sister-in-law. Mr. Harris addressed them. “The will has been entered into probate. A copy of it, and all supporting documentation, has been duly filed with the court. The valuation of the estate, after deductions for the payment of debts and smaller bequests, including the manumission of the former slaves Emmeline, Belle and her three children, Bessie and her four children, Dottie and her five children, and Eddie, costs associated with said manumission, and legal fees and costs related to the settlement of the estate, not including the proceeds of this year’s harvest, is a total of one million and two hundred thousand dollars.”

My sons smiled when they heard that figure.

“I will tell you how the estate is apportioned among all of you, but first you must know that one of the terms of the will is that anyone who contests any grant made by the grantor or seeks to nullify any or all parts of the will forfeits his or her grant.”

No one said anything.

“One-half of the estate goes to Mrs. Theodora Allen, one-quarter to the estate of the late Mrs. Clarissa Cromwell, and the balance, in equal shares, to Paul Allen, Robert Allen, Mr. Charles Allen, and Mrs. Martha Laurence.”

“I don’t understand what you mean when you say that Clarissa’s estate gets one-quarter of my father’s estate. Who actually gets that money?” Paul asked.

“Because she died without a will, the court has appointed your mother as the administrator of Mrs. Cromwell’s estate. The money will be placed in a trust for Mrs. Cromwell’s son.”

“What are you saying? That money was our father’s, and we are his legitimate heirs. Therefore, Clarissa’s share should go to us, not to her bastard. And why do we have to share a measly one quarter of the money?”

“My duty is to enforce your father’s wishes, as he specified them in his will.”

“But you wrote the will.”

“These were your father’s wishes. I am the executor of the will. Your father, who, I remind you, studied law, made certain that the will was properly drafted and witnessed,” Charles said.

“What is the date of the will? Wasn’t he sick for some time before he died? How do we know he was legally capable of entering into it?”

“The will was written in 1836. There was a recent amendment, but it does not affect any of your grants,” Mr. Harris said.

“Whose grants are affected?”

“The manumission of and bequests to the former slaves,” Mr. Harris said.

“How recent was the amendment? Was my father already ill when he made it?”

“No, he was not. He met me in my office, and he was healthy and of sound mind.”

“I can’t believe he willingly freed those niggers.”

“Paul, do not use vulgar language in my presence.”

“I’m sorry, Mother, but I’m sure you understand why we’re so angry and can’t believe that Father treated us so shabbily. Especially given that, now that everyone knows what Clarissa did, we may not even have positions at our respective banks when we return. Mr. Harris, it just occurred to me, since we don’t know where Clarissa’s bast…er…son is, how will he get the trust?”

“Mr. Harris, there’s no need to discuss that now. I will tell the family the details about that matter at another time,” I said.

“There is one other issue we do need to speak about. As you know, Mr. Cromwell filed a petition to try to get Mrs. Cromwell’s share of Mr. Allen’s estate. My partner and I do not believe he will succeed, but we want you to know that the possibility exists. If he is successful, it will only affect Mrs. Cromwell’s share and no other,” Mr. Harris said.

“Are you sure, Mr. Harris, that the court would find that only Clarissa’s grant was affected?”

“Yes, of that I am certain, and I remind you that, if anyone tries to challenge his or any grant, by operation of the will, he will forfeit his share.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

 

SARAH CAMPBELL

 

MRS. GREEN SHOWED ME TO THE WASHROOM AND told me where I could hang my clean clothes to dry, and she gave me a set of her husband’s garments to wear. Mr. Adams’ advice to take some of Mr. Allen’s unused undergarments, which I at first had rejected, turned out to be sound.

“Mrs. Green, can I help to wash your laundry?”

“No, William. I think it’s best if you help me in the kitchen. You never know when patrollers or the sheriff are riding around, looking into people’s property.”

I cooked for the family while they were at church on Sunday. In the middle of dinner, however, I cried.

“You’re missing your family, William?”

I told them that, at home, after we made Sunday dinner for our master and his family and while others served them, my mother, Belle and her family, and I went to my mother’s cabin, where we had our own meal. “I was thinking that I’ll never have this with them again.”

“You’ll meet someone, William, and you’ll have your own family. And you can raise your children the same way your mother raised you.”

I packed my bag Sunday night and thanked Mrs. Green and said good-bye to her children. Mr. Green told me that I could keep the overalls, as it was an old pair and would be better for me to wear in the wagon than my own clothes. We departed at five thirty Monday morning. He gave me similar instructions to what LeRoy and Arthur had offered, except he said that he would say “get down” when he saw a patroller or militiaman.

“We always get stopped at least once in every settlement or village along the way, but the patrollers all know us and they don’t bother looking at our freedom papers. Sometimes they look in the back, though, so make sure you hide yourself real good when we say ‘get down.’ It’s another thing when we get to Mobile proper. Most the time they have patrollers, slave catchers, and sheriffs there because they know runaways go for help in the freedmen’s villages and escape to the North on ships. And after they check our papers or look in the wagon, make sure you stay down until we tell you to get up.”

As Mr. Green said, patrollers stopped the wagon to speak to him and looked in the back of the wagon only twice before we reached Mobile.

“All right, William, we’re about to enter Mobile proper. There’s going to be patrollers and sheriffs in about forty-five minutes. I’m stopping the wagon now and going to the back to give you my blanket. Wrap yourself in it and make sure you hide yourself real good. They might have dogs and the smell from my blanket is going to throw them off any scent they’re searching for.”

He told me to get down about fifteen minutes later, and I heard men’s voices.

“Your papers.”

I heard dogs panting.

“What’re you coming here for and how long are you staying?”

“Sir, we’re building a house in the Springhill village. We’ll be here until Friday afternoon, and then we go back home.”

“We know them. They come down here to work all the time,” someone else said.

“Just the same, we need to check their papers. Josiah, I’m going to describe two people to you and you tell me if you saw anybody matching their descriptions on the way down here. One is a mulatto woman, yellowish, tall, long hair, speaks good English; the other is a man, very tall, over six feet, bright yellow mulatto with gray eyes. Did you see anybody who looks like either one of them?”

“No, sir. I didn’t.”

“All right, do you want to make some money, Josiah?”

“Sir, how?”

“There are large rewards for anyone who turns in either of these two runaways, and we think they are going to Mobile. Two hundred for the woman and one hundred for the man. If you come across either of them, or if you get any information about where they may be, you go down to my office on the corner of St. Francis and Water streets. If we catch them based upon what you tell us, you’ll get the reward. Now, we need to look in the back of the wagon.”

I heard them walk to the rear. Someone opened the canvas covering and helped a dog to climb aboard. I kept my body stiff so that I would not tremble, and I hoped that the animal would not smell my fear or hear my heartbeat. The dog sniffed, and it apparently lifted something with its snout. As the animal moved around the wagon, it stepped on my knee. I stayed still. It got off me. The hound evidently was unable to identify my scent or Isaac’s scent, and the patrollers ended the search and permitted us to continue.

When we had traveled another five minutes, Mr. Green told me to stay down because it was likely that they would have men posted near where we were going. After another forty minutes, we were stopped again. This time, it seemed as if only a slave catcher was present. He inspected the wagon and repeated the information about the rewards offered for Isaac’s and my capture. The wagon slowed as we made a turn. I stayed down. Mr. Green got out of the wagon. I heard a familiar and sweet voice answer after he knocked on a door.

“Good morning, sir, how can I help you?”

“Good morning, ma’am. I’m looking for Miss Adeline.”

“You found her.”

“I have somebody here, in the back of my wagon. He come a long way to see you. Is it all right if he comes out?”

“Sure, if it’s me he came to see.”

He opened the canvas cover. We were in an alleyway. Miss Adeline did not at first recognize me, not only because I was disguised as a man but also because it had been over two years since I was at her house with my mother and Eddie.

“Good Lord, sweet Jesus. Sa…uh, get out of there and come inside, quick. Mr….come in, and I see you got somebody else with you. Come in, everybody.”

We entered her home. She was careful to not say much about my identity. Her grandchildren came in from playing on the front porch. They either did not remember me from my prior visit or did not see through my disguise. Miss Adeline gave us dinner and after we ate, Mr. Green and his son took their leave. I thanked them and asked that they give my regards to the rest of their family. When their wagon had pulled away, Miss Adeline told me to bathe and that I would tell her everything afterward.

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