In the end, no amount of kicking and screaming from Louella stopped the judge from siding with Barnwell. The date of November 4, 1889, was set to auction off the land.
The autumn winds blew. Louella wrapped her wool shawl around herself as she stood before her people on the cold and cloudy last day of October. The leaves from the surrounding trees had dried, turning yellow and brown. The color contrasted with the green of the grass as each leaf tumbled slowly, catching in the wind and drifting until it came to rest on the ground like the last notes of a sad song.
There were no joyful notes left in the Happy Land, but Louella found joy in her memories. She told them, “Many years ago, before freedom came, I was beaten unconscious right under the same tree they hanged my daddy on. While I was out, I had this vision of people going about their daily lives, smiling and being kind to one another. Lending a helping hand to lift one another up.”
She stretched forth her hand as she pointed at the crowd in front of her home. “You all became the manifestation of my vision. I pray that you’ve known some form of comfort in the Happy Land after the misery most of us endured during slavery.”
Cheers went up among the crowd.
Louella took no pleasure in the cheers. Her next words would not bring comfort. Sighing deeply, she told them, “I’m standing before you today to inform everyone that the judge has sided with Barnwell concerning King Robert’s debts. About ninety acres of the Happy Land has already been sold to a Mr. P. J. Hart.”
She pointed north of where they were standing. “Over by the barn that Robert built, they are auctioning off most of our land in five days. All we have left is the twenty-five acres William and I purchased when we first began building the Happy Land.”
Grief stood before Louella like a boxer, ready to strike a blow. Face blank, eyes hollow as if she’d witnessed an unspeakable horror, she said, “I’m sorry.” Her head lowered with each word. “I have failed you.”
“You didn’t fail us. I know for a fact you did everything in your power,” Jerry declared. “Now it’s time for us to take up arms and fight fire with fire.”
“Yeah!” someone else yelled. “We’ll die before we let them take our land.”
Another shouted, “I helped build my house, and I’m not leaving!”
“No more death!” Louella shouted. “I won’t lose this land and the people on it as well.”
“We got to do something. Why haven’t you paid them?” someone shouted from the back.
“I tried and tried to pay them.” Her hand went up and fell back down. Despair weighed her shoulders down as tears flooded her face. “They won’t accept the money from me, so what more can I do?”
Mama Sue and Louella’s mother slowly walked to the front of the crowd. They were singing. Louella lifted a hand, too heartsick for music, but Mama Sue ignored her and kept right on singing . . .
“Don’t be weary, traveller,
Come along home to Jesus;
Where to go I did not know,
Come along home to Jesus;
Ever since He freed my soul,
Come along home to Jesus.”
The words to “Don’t Be Weary, Traveller” pierced the distance between slavery and the road they’d traveled to get here. They weren’t the same people who journeyed from Mississippi in search of a place to call home. They’d found their land. They’d endured sorrow, pain, and joy. And they’d known true happiness . . . even if it had been fleeting.
The song moved Louella. She opened her mouth and belted out the last verse . . .
“I look at de world and de world look new,
Come along home to Jesus.”
By the time they finished singing, Louella had found some semblance of peace. She prayed it was enough to get her through the days to come. The crowd dispersed. Louella stayed on her porch. She sat on her throne looking out at all they had built. The church, the homes, the barns, the crops . . . Everything she had envisioned was here. But how long would it remain?
Mama Sue sat on William’s throne and held her hand. Her mama stood beside her chair and rubbed her back. Ambrose and Henry walked over to the porch. Family. At the lowest moments of her life, family had always been there. They would ride this storm together and see which way the wind and waves blew them this time.
“Sis, Henry and I—”
Mama Sue loudly cleared her throat and glared at her grandson.
“Uh, Queen,” Ambrose began again, “Henry and I were talking about the fix we’re in.”
Henry chimed in. “I know a fellow who purchased a home from the sheriff’s auction last year, so I been thinking about going down to that auction myself.”
Louella shook her head. “Your last name is Bobo. They would probably deny you since we’re related.”
Ambrose’s nostrils flared. “We worked too hard for what we got. The days of us just laying down and letting them destroy us is over.” Wringing his hands, Ambrose looked to his sister, eyes pleading with her. “Has to be something we can do.”
Leaning back in her chair, Louella’s fingers thumped against her chin. She stared out at their land as a smile replaced the frown. “We may have one more card to play.”
* * *
The auction was to take place at the sheriff’s office. Louella pulled her wagon as close as possible. Her mother was seated next to her. She took Louella’s hand. “Dearest, relax. You’ve done everything you can, so now we must put the rest in the Lord’s hands.”
Louella let out a whoosh of air. She leaned back against her seat, thankful that her mama was with her so she had a shoulder to lean on.
She looked to Brenda now and confessed, “It’s been hard to put my trust in God through the years, but I’ve come to accept that God’s will is not always my will. His ways are not my ways.” Squeezing her mother’s hand, she nodded. “I got peace with that.”
The auction began with a crowd of men standing outside the county jailhouse. The sheriff announced that they were going to be auctioning ninety-five acres of property just up the hill from the Oakland Plantation.
Louella wished those bidders understood that the place the sheriff referred to had been dubbed the Happy Land. It was the place where their crops grew, where homes were built, and where families enjoyed peaceful lives. Their land was priceless. God Himself had brought them to this land, and only God could determine when their time was up.
The bidding started at twenty-five cents an acre. Several hands went up. The hands stayed up at thirty-five cents. Then fifty cents. When the bidding went up to a dollar, several of the men walked away.
Brenda put a hand on Louella’s shoulder. “You see what’s happening, don’t you?”
Louella wasn’t sure how any of this was going to turn out. She wished she could stand in front of the sheriff’s office and bid on the property herself, but even though women were allowed to own property that had been left to them by their husbands, they weren’t allowed to buy property without a male cosigner.
Six white men and one Black man remained as the bidding went up to a dollar twenty per acre. When it went up to a dollar fifty, three more white men dropped off.
Brenda started kicking her feet. The wagon moved forward. Louella steadied the horse. “Calm down, Mama. We don’t want to draw too much attention to ourselves.”
“Sorry.” Brenda put her hands in her lap. “I’m excited. God is working this thing out for us.”
The bidding went up to a dollar seventy-five, and two more white men stepped away. Now it was Wiley Bennett and the last white man. “Can I get a dollar eighty?” the auctioneer rattled off.
The white man raised his hand. Wiley Bennett raised his hand.
“Can I get a dollar eighty-five?” Wiley Bennett raised his hand and the white man raised his hand. The two men battled it out all the way up to a dollar ninety-five. Then, as the auctioneer went to the two-dollar mark, the white man shook his head and stepped away.
Wiley raised his hand and accepted the two-dollar-an-acre asking price for ninety-five acres of the Happy Land.
As Wiley and the sheriff shook on it, Louella snapped the reins and rode back to the land that God had promised to give them. She pulled the buggy up to the house. Brenda hugged Louella, then got out of the buggy and walked to her house.
Louella sat on the porch with her memories. In her mind’s eye, William was perched on the throne next to hers, taking care of kingdom business. His chin was lifted, eyes bright with devotion to the land they built . . . to the people who came before him.
He stood and stretched out his arms. Arms that were muscular and strong from swinging that axe day in and day out until all those trees came tumbling down. He’d made promises to her and left nary a one unfulfilled. He’d made her a queen and she had loved a king. Would love him for the rest of her life.
Wiley rode up to the house on his horse. He climbed down and walked over to Louella. He grinned as he bowed, then handed her the deed to the Happy Land and a hundred and seventy dollars. “Looks like we got a discount on King Robert’s debt.”
Louella nodded. “Indeed we did.” She handed Wiley twenty-five dollars. “Do something nice for Rachel with some of that.”
He nodded, put the money in his pocket, and then got back on his horse and rode to the home he shared with Rachel. The home he would continue to live in.
Louella wrapped her shawl around her shoulders. She left her porch and took a walk up the hill. Many years ago when she’d stood in this very spot, there had been nothing but trees as far as the eye could see. The hillside was covered in trees and the valley contained cabins for enslaved people. But she’d imagined what this land could become.
Breathing in the mountain air she’d come to love, Louella lifted her hands to the heavens, and she exhaled. All that they had built was before her eyes. Louella’s heart rejoiced.
Thanks to Wiley representing her at the auction, they now had a hundred and twenty acres. No, they hadn’t been able to keep all of their land, but as she walked back down the hill, her eyes were set on the homes, the building they used as both a school and a church, the barns, and the crops. She looked at the people milling about, happy to be in a place of their own where they could hold their heads up and be respected.
Waties and Joshua stepped out onto the porch and waved at her. A smile crept across her face. Louella’s mind rolled over good things as she waved back to them. Slavery hadn’t beaten her. She’d survived . . . Her people had survived. And they had built a kingdom to be proud of.
She’d lost a lot along the way, but she’d gained a lot as well. Her heart had expanded as William taught her to love, laugh, and forgive. Louella didn’t know what the future held for them, but one thing was for sure and true: this was good . . . very good.
The End