Seventeen

“I have an idea.” Jeremiah’s statement elicited a groan from his friend. He looked out of the carriage as it traveled the road to town. He and Judah had been planning this trip for several days. A piece of property was being offered for sale that should make an excellent shipping office, and Jeremiah wanted to purchase it if the building was in good shape and the price was fair.

“The last time you said that to me, we ended up spending the whole day across the river at that tent meeting.”

“You have to admit the minister was a great speaker. The Spirit was using him to deliver a message we needed to hear.”

Judah laughed. “He was good, but it’s a wonder we didn’t catch colds after all that time out in the open. Ferriday Plantation may not be that far away, but crossing the river at this time of year exposed us to some raw weather.”

“I still think it was worth the trouble.” Jeremiah remembered the hours spent hanging on every word the minister delivered. A part of him wished he had the talent to teach the Word, but he had not been gifted in that way. He was able to share the Gospel with people one-on-one and even sometimes in a group of five or so, but he was not an orator. “But back to my idea. What would you think of ordering slate tablets and pencils?”

“Whatever for? Who are you planning to teach?”

Jeremiah turned his attention away from the landscape. “I was thinking about showing your slaves the rudiments of reading and writing.”

Judah crossed his arms over his chest and grunted. “You can forget your revolutionary ideas. I know things were different where you grew up, but here slaves are the labor force that makes our crops profitable. If we teach the slaves to read, they will clamor for freedom. How do you think things would go at home if I freed all the slaves?”

“I believe you could hire them to work for you instead of forcing them to do so. Can’t you see enslavement is wrong? The men and women you ‘own’ are precious in the Lord’s sight.”

“They are precious to me, too. . .precious to the smooth operation of the plantation.” Judah frowned at him. “You’d better keep your ideas to yourself. Many people in this county would lynch you for the ideas you’ve espoused to me.”

“Do I need to fear a vicious mob attack?”

“No, but you may get a very chilly reception if you start ordering school supplies for slaves. It’s not legal. If word got out, you would go to jail. The people around here don’t take kindly to newcomers messing with the system that’s been in use for decades.”

Jeremiah considered the advice. His friend had grown up here and knew the people. But that didn’t mean Jeremiah’s plan was doomed to failure. It would simply be placed on a back shelf for now. As soon as he got the shipping business up and running, he could use his uncle’s contacts. It shouldn’t be a problem to have a few dozen tablets and pencils ordered.

“It’s a nice day.” Judah leaned forward to look out of the window. “Spring will be upon us soon.”

“Indeed.” As Jeremiah watched the passing scenery, his mind wandered back to the idea for a school. He could have a new building raised on the plantation grounds. That way, few of the planters would realize his plans until they were underway. It could be about the same size as the sewing house, unpretentious and simple, with several desks and a tablet for each person in attendance. He could start with the children who were too young to be put to work. Then they could go home every day and show their parents and older siblings what they had learned.

The coach passed a wide road leading west into a dense forest. “Is that the drive to a plantation home?” Jeremiah asked.

Judah glanced past him and shook his head. “That’s Liberty Road.”

“Good name.” He encouraged his friend to elaborate with a nod.

“Several hunting lodges down that road are owned by some of the most prosperous planters around here. They don’t get down there very often, but they have slaves on duty all the time. As long as the masters are not in residence and the lodges are cared for, the slaves are free to do what they will with their time. They have much more liberty than you would expect.”

“Why don’t they run away?”

A shrug answered him. “I guess they are comfortable.”

Jeremiah couldn’t imagine living in a half-world of slavery. “Until the master comes. Then they have to give up their freedom again. It seems to me that would be a painful process.”

“Not as painful as being whipped or branded if they are caught without papers. Since our neighbors up north have been threatening to shackle the Southland by outlawing slavery, things have gotten much more tense. Catching a runaway slave has always been serious business, but it’s even more so since slaves who make it to certain states or territories in the North are considered free.”

“I wonder where it will end.”

“From what we’ve learned since returning to Natchez, the price of cotton is rising daily. Our economy strengthens with each shipment.” Judah shifted his position on the cushioned bench. “The system works because our slaves work.”

Jeremiah couldn’t agree with Judah. “There must be a way to make plantations successful without the enslavement of human beings.”

“Maybe so.” Judah’s expression had drawn into a frown. “I’ve never purchased a slave myself.”

“But you’ve not considered freeing the ones you inherited.”

“I’m not as wealthy as you, Jeremiah. If I freed the slaves, Susannah and I would lose everything.”

Jeremiah recognized the fear in his friend’s voice. “It wouldn’t be easy, but you and your wife should consider other ways to make the plantation profitable. Perhaps you could free a few at a time to make it easier on you.”

“I’ll think about it.”

They arrived in town and found the property Jeremiah wished to inspect. It was a brick building clinging to the edge of the bluff overlooking Natchez Under-the-Hill. They went inside and found a pair of small rooms in the front of the building that could be used as office space and a set of rooms upstairs that could be updated for a living space.

“I can see a large desk in that room, and you with your feet up on it while you count all the money you earn.” Judah’s teasing words made Jeremiah laugh.

“I’m much more likely to be down at the waterfront making sure the shipments find their way to the correct boats.”

“Once you get this place fixed up, I cannot imagine wanting to leave it. I can almost hear the deals being made between your business and the local farmers.” Judah hobbled across the room and looked out a dirt-streaked window. “They’ll be lining up outside to sell you their cotton.”

Jeremiah watched his friend, glad to see the liveliness in his expression. It was good to see Judah animated. He seemed to have forgotten his infirmity for a few moments. If only Judah could stay here and run things. . . It would give Jeremiah more time to do what he wanted to do—work the land and make meaningful changes.

Inspiration struck as suddenly as a summer storm. “What would you think of managing the business for me?”

Judah turned so quickly he almost fell over. “I. . .I don’t know the least thing about the shipping business.”

“I can teach you what you’ll need to know.” Jeremiah’s voice grew more certain as the details fell into place in his mind. “You can start by making inquiries in town for the furniture we’ll need.”

“That’s ridiculous. I’m a farmer. If it wasn’t for this leg. . .” He waved a hand downward as his voice faded.

Jeremiah dropped his chin and raised an eyebrow. “Instead of focusing on your problems, you should consider my suggestion. You would be a natural.” Certainty flooded him. He knew this was right. All he had to do was convince his friend.

Judah’s serious gaze wandered around the room. “I don’t know. . . .”

Silence invaded the room as Jeremiah waited for his hesitant friend to think about his idea. A prayer filled his heart. Would this be the right path for Judah? And what about Susannah?

Judah turned back to him, excitement animating his face. “Hickman O’Grady made a couple of the pieces we have at home. He has a shop a few blocks away. We can go see what he might have to offer in the way of furnishings.”

“I’ll leave that up to you. I need to go by the bank and make a few other stops.” Jeremiah withdrew his pocket watch. “I’ll meet you back here in a couple of hours.”

Judah nodded and made his way to the door.

Jeremiah could hear his friend’s excited voice directing the coachman. He glanced toward the ceiling, the grateful outpouring of David’s Psalm 103 filling his heart. “ ‘Bless the Lord, O my soul: and all that is within me, bless his holy name.’ Thank You, Lord. You are so faithful to Judah and to me.”

The future opened up in front of him, stunning him with its possibilities. God had blessed him beyond his greatest imaginings.