A Teacher’s Heart: 4 Historical Stories

Elim finished his morning routine and stepped outside his tent. The sky had begun its progression from dark to light. If he closed his eyes and imagined, he could transport himself back home … no, not home. The plantation he grew up on. It was surrounded with a few low mountains and acres of green forests. He was often up before sunrise to complete his tasks for the household and make sure the other slaves had also started their duties. His early rising had a different purpose now. It was the army ordering him around, but at least he got something in return.

The colored troops’ tents sat in the farthest corner of the fort. It was the worst area, but being placed here had an unexpected benefit. Here they weren’t subject to staring and ridicule from the other soldiers. Someone on this base had reported his troops to Major MacDonald, because the man had never come to see them drill a single day. Maybe he could use the space near the chapel to drill the men. At least they could fail in private.

A figure trotted down from the main section of the base. It was a small boy about nine years old. He spotted Elim. “G’ morn’, suh. Do you know Mr. Smith?”

“The teacher lady told me your right name, but I forgot.” The boy gave him a toothy grin. “Miss Adeline says to tell you that she can’t come up today. There was a whole heap o’ new runaways come in last night and she said she gon’ help the Hunters. She said you can bring the men down tuh her for their lesson.”

A sad memory bubbled in Elim’s chest. He had been tired, hungry, and confused when he’d first come upon faces that looked like his. It was a group of colored workers traveling with a Union regiment. They had graciously fed and clothed him with whatever they had and told him that he could work for the soldiers. Elim had been excited to dig ditches if it meant he wouldn’t have to go back home.

A simple question, but it boomed in the quiet like the cannons in the fort. He alone couldn’t do it, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t try. “I’m going to help.”

The boy stared at him a little longer. “You coming down? My little brother never seen a soldier up close.”

Another round of emotion twisted in his chest. “I would like to meet your brother.”

The boy laughed. “You talk like Miss Adeline,” he said and then turned, running in the direction he came from.

Miss Adeline would get a dressing down for this. He had thought they had come to some sort of truce, but he was wrong. He didn’t care how pretty she was or how much he wanted to kiss her—this was too much. He did not have time to take the men away from the fort. That would cut into their drilling. The days until the inspection were ticking away. He was stuck between two commands, and neither looked to work out well.

Once the men were awake and dressed, he formed them into two neat lines and led them out the back gate down to The Bottom. Elim sighed as his men sang and chatted behind him. Why had he promised he’d meet the boy’s brother? He could have sent word to Miss Barris that they would not be coming. Then he wouldn’t see Miss Barris either. He increased his pace at that thought. Why did it matter if he didn’t see Miss Barris?

The freedman’s village didn’t live up to the title of village. It was rows of huts and makeshift tents around a more substantial wooden building that served as the village center. It was a depressing sight to him but was probably the happiest sight the runaways had ever seen.

Miss Barris stood talking to several people on the front stairs. When she spotted him, she smiled. Her smile was bright and directed only at him. Heat flushed under his collar.

She left the group, and her approach gave him a chance to study her. She wore a gray day dress with a row of buttons down the front. Her hair was twisted up on her head like a crown. His heart thumped and he looked back at his men.

“Good morning, Corporal. I wasn’t sure if you were coming. Let me show you where we’ll be having lessons today.”

She led them to a less populated section of the tents where there was almost a clearing. He could see the children already there and Miss Barris’s stack of primers sitting beside a blanket. She turned to Elim. “Will the men mind sitting on the ground?”

He chuckled at her attempt to make them comfortable. “We are soldiers, Miss Barris. We are used to it.”

Elim clenched his jaw. Her statement made it seem like the men had the option to do what they wanted.

She motioned for the men to join the students, stood in front of the group, and began to teach. She was already animated, but when she was teaching, she seemed to beam with energy. Her tone and smiles quickly disarmed the toughest of students, even his men.

As he stood there, he took in his surroundings. Groups huddled together over campfires, all of their belongings, if they had any, piled about them. A woman cradled an infant and a man with a bandage wrapped around his leg sat staring at nothing. The sight both saddened and motivated him. He knew this pain. It was a pain they would all return to if the North lost the war.

After the lesson, Miss Barris walked to him with a smile that set his heart racing. “Thank you for bringing the men down today. With all the runaways, I couldn’t leave the Hunters without assistance.”

“I understand.” He kept his face serious. “I agreed to it this time, but from now on, all the lessons will take place in the chapel. This is too much of a distraction, and coming here takes away from our drilling time. If you can’t come to us, we will cancel the lessons.”

Miss Barris shook her head. “Drilling, drilling, drilling. All you talk about is drilling. Let me give you some teaching advice,” she said, clutching her bundle of books to her chest. “You can’t drill these men nonstop. They need a break.”

Elim narrowed his gaze. “I don’t need you to tell me how to train my men.”

She let out an exasperated sigh. “They are pupils just the same. All this training is not going to make them learn any faster. They need time to process what they’ve learned. And it doesn’t help that you are putting so much pressure on them.”

“Pressure? I’m stressing the importance of them becoming proficient. We only have …” He stopped himself. If he finished the statement, she would have a hundred questions, and he didn’t want to answer any of them. “They are the only colored unit in this fort, and they need to be as good as the other soldiers.”

“I can tell you this. Your plan is going to have the opposite effect you want.”

She left him standing in the field. Infuriating woman. He would drill the men until they were perfect. He had to prove that they were better than ditchdiggers. He looked around for his young messenger but didn’t see him.

On the way back to the camp, Holt seemed extra quiet. Elim checked the number of buttons on his jacket. All of them were there. He slowed down so he fell in step beside the private.

“I’m an orphan too. Ran off after my massa sold my parents to two different farms. It’s not easy. Then to get here and still have a hard time. Those children don’t even have anywhere to sleep.”

Elim patted Holt on the shoulder. “This is what we’re fighting for. It is hard, but this is how we can help.”

As Elim returned to his place at the front of the group, Miss Barris’s words bounced around in his head. Was he too focused on drilling? He sighed. He and his men had their part to play in this war, but Holt had a point. They could do more.

Adeline rubbed her eyes as she made her way down to breakfast. Helping the Hunters and other leaders in The Bottom get the new runaways settled had lasted well into the night. There were so many men, so many tired, crying babies and children and their frightened mothers.

As she passed the front desk, Millie handed her a note. “A soldier delivered this before you were up.”

Miss Barris,

The men will not be having lessons today.

Corporal Smith

She sneered at the very neat and graceful handwriting on the paper. Was he still upset about her rebuke yesterday? This proved that it had hit its mark. He was probably planning to make up for lost time and have the men drill all day. She let out a harrumph. No matter. The cancellation gave her more time to help the Hunters. Also, it would give her time to really talk to some of the runaways.

When the large group had arrived two nights ago, her hope was renewed. Maybe someone in this group knew something to help her in her search. She could question them about where they ran from. This close to Ashton Place, there was a chance someone had some information.

A chance, but not a good one. If they came from nearby, there was the possibility that they had run past anyplace that would have put their freedom in jeopardy. Runaways stayed away from plantations and spent the night sleeping in the woods. That’s exactly what she and her father had done.

Oh Papa. I wish you were here with me. Her father’s death had been a blow she didn’t think she would recover from. He had spent years working to save the money to buy Mama’s and Michael’s freedom. Her returning to Virginia was a fulfillment of his dream to reunite his family. Now they would have to wait until heaven for that. Maybe Mama, Papa, and Michael had already gone and she was the only one left on this wretched earth.

No, she would not accept that Mama and Michael were dead too. They had to be alive, and she would find them.

At breakfast, she informed the Hunters of her change of plans and they readily accepted the extra help. They gathered their things and started out for The Bottom.

This part of Alexandria was alive with activity even this early in the morning. She could hear the clang from the smithy and the bustle of vendors setting up their wares in front of their shops. Such a different scene from the freedman’s village.

She looked up to find Corporal Smith driving a wagon holding half his section. The men waved at her and she laughed and waved back. Then another wagon passed holding the rest of the men and they waved too. So Corporal Smith isn’t angry with me. Private Douglas had told her that they sometimes had to deliver supplies from the fort to an outpost a few miles away. They probably had to make a delivery.

To her great surprise, when she and the Hunters arrived at the place where they had held classes the day before, Corporal Smith and his men were standing by the two parked wagons.

“What is this?” she asked Corporal Smith. “I thought you canceled the lessons today.”

“I don’t understand.” She peered into the wagon. Canvas fabric and wooden poles were stacked in the beds.

“I asked Chaplain Thomas if there were any extra tents not being used at the fort. These are a bit older and may not be in perfect condition, but they are better than sleeping out in the open.”

Before she could think about what she was doing, she threw herself into Corporal Smith’s arms and squeezed him. “Thank you.”

He let out a nervous laugh and stumbled backward. “You don’t have to thank me.” His arms closed around her, his embrace firm but not stifling. Almost like he was as affected by it as much as she was.

They split into two groups. With her cheeks heating, she avoided being in the same group as the corporal. In no time, the men had the pieces of the tents unloaded and began work. Corporal Smith had taken off his cap and blue jacket and worked in a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up. His arms were quite muscular, but she knew that firsthand.

As they worked, the runaways gathered around them, and when they realized the tents were for them, they joined in to help. A woman and a small boy began arranging tent pieces as one of the men, Private Chase, drove the stakes into the ground.

As they pulled the fabric tight over the tent’s frame, the woman put her arm around the boy and admired the tent like it was a real home. “No more sleeping outside,” she announced to the boy. He let out a cheer and climbed inside.

The woman laughed. “That was the worst part of the journey. Cold at night and sleepin’ in the brush.”

Instead of seeing the boy and his mother in front of her, Adeline saw Mama and Michael as she remembered them. Of course they would have changed since the last time she’d seen them twelve years ago.

Adeline froze. Westwood Estates was near Ashton Place. Well, not exactly near. It was about the distance of a morning’s walk. Papa would sometimes work there when the estate needed more workers to harvest their fields. “I’m from Ashton Place.”

A strange sense of connection flowed between her and the woman as the woman nodded. “Knowed that place well. Went to work there a few times.”

“’Fraid not. Our overseer didn’t like us talkin’ to the Ashton Place folks.”

The woman shook her head. “Only me and my boy. I doubt they be anyone else, since we ran in the night when the Yankees came by.” She frowned. “The Union soldiers went to Ashton too, except they didn’t just talk. They set it on fire. The massa and his family left in a long line of wagons. Most of the slaves left too.”

Adeline’s heart sank like a rock in a pond. A fire? She closed her eyes and tried to imagine the big house blackened and charred with soot. “My family …” She stopped before she continued. This poor woman had braved a run with a small boy. It was clear that she didn’t know anything. She didn’t need Adeline’s sad story too.

“Need some help?” Corporal Smith had moved to her side without her noticing. He smelled of sun and sandalwood.

Adeline forced tears from her eyes. How was she ever going to find Mama and Michael? “We’re almost done.”

He leaned in closer. “The young boy you sent for me yesterday wanted me to meet his brother.”

Adeline didn’t catch her surprise before it went to her face. “Oh, little John.”

Chapter 5