A Slave to War
written by: Pauline Milner
@PaulineRMilner
Winslow McPhee stood behind his desk, his hands trembling as he looked down at the white envelope he held which had been tucked in a desk drawer for three weeks. According to the enclosed Emancipation Proclamation he was supposed to have communicated to his slaves how they were now free, but he had failed to do so as he wanted to have all his crops harvested before his slaves started vacating the property following their newfound freedom.
McPhee had been away from his plantation and he returned to find several Union soldiers and their horses milling about. He quickly made his way into the house and to his office. He had been there only a few minutes when his son, Elias, rushed in, completely out of breath.
“F-f-father. Pres…President Lincoln is here and he is talking to our slaves. W-what should I do? You were not here and…”
McPhee put his hand palm up in the air to stop his son, “Please direct the president to my office when you see him returning.” Seeing the swish of his father’s hand, Elias knew the meaning of the gesture and left the room, closing the door behind him.
Knowing that not advising his slaves of their freedom could lead to his arrest, McPhee began articulating his argument. Surely Lincoln would understand the importance of bringing in the crops to the economy. If the President refused that rationale, McPhee was left with nothing with which to parley for his own freedom. He thought about what would happen to his plantation if he was arrested and shuddered at the prospect. For now, he could simply steel up his nerves for a most uncomfortable conversation and think about how those ‘n-word’ could cost him his own freedom.
President Lincoln sat outside the slave quarters folded in a ramshackle chair so that his beard nearly brushed his knees. Across from him sat Isaac, a slave who had stepped forward to speak with the President. Miss Celia had offered The President a cup of tea which he accepted. Many other slaves surrounded the two, anxious to hear the conversation.
President Lincoln asked, “Are you aware, Mr. Isaac, that you and your people are now free?” His uneasiness showing as he bounced one leg, Isaac responded, “F-f-f-ree, Sir?”
Lincoln nodded and continued, “Yes. I recently issued a law pronouncing that all slaves, if you will pardon the expression, are now free. You all can leave this plantation anytime you choose and go wherever you want.” Lincoln looked around at the slaves gathered close by and raised his voice, “That applies to you all. You are no longer owned by Mr. McPhee. You will not be punished for leaving.” There was muffled chatter among the slaves.
Lincoln turned his attention back to Isaac, “From your answer and the reactions here, I understand you did not know of this assertion?” Isaac replied, “Nosir. We bin hearing mumblings about us being free. We were not sure if it was true or what it meant.” Lincoln again addressed the crowd, “I have made this journey to tell you it is true. You are all free. However, I have also come bearing a request. We in the Union who are at war with the Confederates are committed to ensuring you remain free. In order to be successful, we are asking that any of you that cross Union lines join us in our fight and sign up as soldiers. Please consider this option if you leave this plantation. We would be honor-bound if you assisted us.”
Among the slaves, the nattering became louder. Again, Lincoln turned back to Isaac. “Mr. Isaac, would you accompany me back to the house to meet with Mr. McPhee? I would like you to be there as I discuss this situation with him.” Isaac nodded and stood after President Lincoln did and they made their way through the assembly and toward the big house.
As they walked, Lincoln inquired, “What is your last name, Isaac?” Isaac was immediately confused, “My last name, Sir?” Lincoln stopped walking and looked down at him. “Well, yes, Isaac. My first name is Abraham. My last name is Lincoln. However, I know there are many of your people who do not have last names. I was wondering if you did.” Isaac understood. “Nosir. I ain’t ever had a last name. I’ve always just been Isaac.” He lowered his head, as if in shame, but Lincoln lifted his chin with his fingers. “Do not be distraught. We will adopt a last name for you. Do you ever remember there being a last name in your family?” Isaac said, “Nosir.” Lincoln thought for a moment. “What if your last name was Todd? Would you like that? Isaac Todd?” Isaac did not hesitate before saying, “Yessir. Isaac Todd. I do rightly like that name.” Lincoln smiled, “Well then from now on, you shall be known as Isaac Todd.” They walked a bit further before Isaac spoke, “Mr. President, Sir?” Lincoln replied, “Yes, Isaac?” Isaac raised his voice, trying to show confidence, “I would like to join your Union war, Sir.” Lincoln was impressed, “Thank you, Isaac. I know you will make a formidable soldier. If you wish, you may use one of the spare horses I have brought. One of my men will take you to your army division.” Isaac felt proud for the first time in his life.
When they arrived back at the big house, the President asked to speak with Mister McPhee.
McPhee’s office windows did not look over the slave’s commune but he knew the President must have returned when he heard activity outside his door. Elias knocked then entered saying, “Father, President Lincoln would like to speak to you.” McPhee, still shaky as he had been unable to settle his nerves, said, “Please show him in.” Elias stepped aside and Lincoln entered, moving quickly to the other side of McPhee’s desk and offering his hand, said, “Mister McPhee.”
Winslow McPhee was shocked to see President Lincoln in person. He was much taller than expected and when he spoke, his voice had a high pitch which was surprising considering his masculinity. He offered his hand across his desk to the President, “Lincoln”, he said as the two shook hands. McPhee gestured to the chair opposite him, an invitation for the President to sit. Isaac stood a couple of feet behind President Lincoln. His hands were folded in front and he was constantly shuffling his feet. McPhee did not acknowledge him nor offer him a seat.
As the two sat facing one another, McPhee kept his hands firmly on his knees under his desk. He did not want the President to sense his nervousness, though he was sure his trepidation was apparent on his face.
President Lincoln spoke first. “I am certain Mister McPhee that you received notification that your slaves were to be told of their freedom. Since the time window has closed, I set upon this undertaking to establish whether laws laid out in the Emancipation Proclamation have been effectuated. It is apparent after a conference with your workers that you have not completed this mandatory task.”
McPhee cleared his throat. “If I may provide an explanation?” Lincoln sat with his forefingers resting on his chin and nodded. “My crops need to be brought in and I have no other way to accomplish the task than using my slaves.” Lincoln interrupted him, “Mister McPhee, they are no longer your ‘slaves’ as you call them and I detest that word, even though it is necessary I use it in some discussions. They should now be referred to as workers and, if you are to be respected, you should ruminate banishing the word from your vocabulary.” McPhee nodded and continued, “My workers are my only option for bringing in my crops. I had only intended to refrain from telling them for another two weeks, when the heavy labor was finished. They would then be free to go. Since the crops are important to the economy, I made this decision of my own fruition.”
President Lincoln sat up straighter in his chair and pointed a finger at McPhee, a gesture he recoiled from. “Mister McPhee, there was no provision in the proclamation that allowed you to make this determination. Now, by way of an alternative to arresting you, do you have a tendering that would avoid that unpleasant consequence?”
McPhee put forth his only other approach, “I am prepared to call a meeting of all the sla…. workers today. I intend to offer them a fair wage, improved accommodations, more suitable nutrition, and no punishment for any indiscretion. There is a female who can teach the young ones to read and write and I will allow her to do so. If they wish to leave, they may at any time. Would that be agreeable?”
Lincoln thought for a moment and then stood, replying, “Yes, that is satisfactory. I shall direct that Mr. Todd be with you when you speak with your workers to ensure our pact is kept. Mr. Todd wishes to leave today. One of my soldiers, his horse, and a spare horse will be left for that purpose. Does that suit you, Mr. Todd?”
In a voice barely above a whisper, Isaac Todd said, “Yessir, President Lincoln.” McPhee looked confused when Isaac spoke, of course not knowing of his recently acquired last name and neither President Lincoln nor Isaac offered an explanation.
After the president took his leave, McPhee asked Isaac to gather the workers for a meeting. Isaac nodded and left the office, leaving McPhee still wondering why Lincoln had referred to him as Mr. Todd.
McPhee met with the workers, as promised. Isaac stood beside him as McPhee communicated all of the conditions guaranteed to President Lincoln. When he finished, several of the slaves agreed to stay until the crops had been harvested. Others would leave within days to cross Union lines but only half committed to joining the war effort. Among those who chose to stay were the feeble, who knew they could not make it to Union lines, and the young who wanted to learn how to read before they left.
Isaac gathered his belongings and was given a cloth bag by Miss Celia to put them in. As he was saying goodbye to everyone, one of the house servants brought him a shirt and a pair of socks and shoes. Isaac thanked the young girl and found that the shirt fit perfectly but the socks and shoes felt weird on his feet. He had never had a pair of shoes and walking felt awkward. Miss Celia promised him it would not take him long to get used to them.
After his final farewells, Isaac made his way to where the soldier was waiting for him. Isaac was panicked. He had never ridden a horse before and said to the soldier, “Ah, Sssir. I ain’t never ridden no horse.” Smiling, the soldier replied, “Don’t worry. This one is quite tame. I will help you.” He assisted Isaac in getting up and gave him a few directions on how to ride in the saddle and told him they would start slowly, increasing their speed as Isaac got used to riding.
They rode in silence and even though Isaac’s thighs were burning, he did not break the quietude. Instead, his mind wandered to his past. Isaac was fortunate that he could read, write, and do math. Shortly after he was put into the orchard to work at 10 years old, he fell from a tree, breaking his right leg. He had to attend the hospital and was put in a cast from his hip to his ankle. For the next six weeks, he stayed with Miss Celia. She taught him letters, numbers, how to read, and how to write. He was grateful for the learning as the young people she taught could only usually write their names by the time they were obligated to start working. Miss Celia did not have to work the orchard or fields as she looked after the slaves. She did all the cooking, mending of clothes, and looking after the sick. She worked with whatever she was given. Scraps from the Master’s house made into a stew, hopefully with a few extra vegetables given to her from the garden by a house servant. Left over material from the big house that had been used to make curtains and such was sent to Miss Celia who made clothes for the younger children. She used every scrap and made quilts for the slaves. It was one small comfort that was welcomed when a slave got a quilt to cover up with at night while they slept on their pallet.
Lost in thought, his horse had sped up without him realizing it. They were travelling faster when the soldier finally spoke. He said, “We have to stop and make camp. That sun is going down fast.”
They soon found a huge tree whose trunk formed a semi-circle. As the soldier brought his horse to a halt, Isaac did the same and the soldier said, “This is a good place to stop for the night. That tree trunk will provide some protection and the ground is level.” They both dismounted and the soldier started gathering firewood. Isaac followed his lead and came back to camp with a huge load, going back for two more. After they had enough tinder, the soldier set about making the fire. While he was preparing dinner from the provisions he had brought, Isaac sat opposite him.
Waiting for the food to cook, the soldier looked over at Isaac and said, “I know your name is Isaac. Mine is Wil. Have you ever been off the plantation before?”
Isaac was glad the soldier was willing to talk and answered, “I was borned on the plantation. Other than a few trips to the plantation beside us, I ain’t been nowheres.”
Wil stirred the fire and said, “That must have been a hard life but you are free now.”
Isaac hesitated then asked Wil a question, “What’s it like fightin’ in a war?”
Wil replied, “I haven’t seen much of the war except for a couple of battles. In the last one I fought, I shot and killed ten men. It was after that when I was asked to become part of President Lincoln’s security detail. But, you will learn fast what war and killing is all about. You have to be prepared to shoot the enemy or they will shoot you.”
Isaac wondered what he had gotten himself into. Life on the plantation was miserable but having to kill someone, he did not know if he could do it. He asked, “What’s it like to kill someone?” He noticed a far-away look in Wil’s eyes and there was a long pause before he spoke, “It’s something you have to get used to because it’s your job. You just get out there and do it.” Isaac nodded but did not respond.
Dinner was ready and Wil handed Isaac a tin plate with beans and several slices of hard cheese along with a spoon. Isaac had to suppress the urge to eat with his fingers which he had done his entire life. He had never eaten with a utensil so he watched Wil for a minute before trying it himself. Isaac held the spoon between his first two fingers to keep it steady. It was different but it worked for him. Isaac thought this was the best meal he had ever had. There was plenty on his plate and he was full well before his food was gone, but he managed to finish his portion.
After Wil had cleaned their dishes in a nearby stream, he took a bag from the back of his horse. In it was a bed roll which he put on the ground. Pointing to Isaac’s horse he said, “There’s one on yours too.” Isaac found the roll and placed it opposite Wil. When he saw Wil retrieve a blanket, Isaac found he had one too.
Before settling in for the night, Wil removed a spill and two cigarettes from his pocket. He used a coal from the fire to ignite what looked like rolled paper. After lighting his he passed a cigarette and the flame to Isaac. When Isaac lit his and inhaled, he coughed and felt his face must have turned green because Wil chuckled at him. He gave the lighter back and took another drag, but this time it was no better. Wil assured him there would be lots of opportunities to smoke and he would get used to it. Isaac was not so sure as by the time he had finished his cigarette, his head was spinning and his stomach was heaving.
Wil lit another cigarette but Isaac refused a second. He blew out a long trail of smoke and said, “I have to tell you Isaac that even though you are now free, not everyone will accept or agree with your status. When we reach your division, you will be serving with all blacks. You are needed to join the fight but not with the whites. You’ll have to get used to still being called ‘n-word.’ We have to win this war, Isaac, if you are to stay free so banish any fears you have and be ready to kill every Grayback you see.”
He lay down on his bed and both wished each other good night.
While looking up at stars, Isaac’s thoughts were about the plantation and one awful experience he would never forget.
Isaac had snuck away to deliver a letter to the neighboring plantation. Upon returning, he came around a bend in the road only to be confronted by Elias who grabbed him by the collar and said, “Hey, ‘n-word,’ where you been?” Elias did not wait for an answer and started dragging Isaac to one of the three shacks that he kept for punishing slaves, sometimes for the smallest infraction. Each shack was void of any furniture save for a metal pipe that went from floor to ceiling and a bucket to be used as a toilet. There was a chain at the bottom which Elias wrapped and locked around Isaac’s ankle. He said nothing and slammed the door behind him when he left.
Being in one of those shacks was pure torture. Since his father would not allow whipping, Elias doled out his own kind of justice. Isaac never knew whether it was night or day for there were no windows. It was only when Elias opened the door to bring him a meal once a day that Isaac could see outside. His dinner consisted of a small pail of water and dry bread. He would drink some of the water then soak the water in the bread to make it palatable. After six days of hell, Isaac was released and went directly to see Miss Celia. He was emaciated and could barely walk. She cleaned his raw and bleeding ankle and plied it with salve.
Isaac was given no time to recover and was expected back in the orchard in the morning. Thankfully, his friends found an apple tree with a wide trunk where they dug a hole for him to hide in where he would not be noticed by the overseer. When anyone walked by they tossed him a few apples. After three days which included an extra serving at supper time, Isaac was back to work.
That shack haunted Isaac. As the seconds ticked by, the only thing he could do was try and free himself which only led to more pain as he pulled and twisted the chain.
Isaac tried to feel more positive as he waited for sleep to come. He now had a last name – Todd – Isaac Todd. He was further from the plantation than he had ever been and had enjoyed the best meal of his life. Most of all, he was free. FREE!
It was noon the next day when they arrived at the barracks. For the next couple of hours, Isaac felt like he was in a whirlwind. There were papers to fill out, a uniform fitting, picking up his supplies, and then meeting his commanding officer who showed him how to use the rifle he would need to fight the Confederates.
He was unsure of where to sit when he arrived at the mess hall, but was thankfully motioned to a seat at a table where several soldiers were sitting. They exchanged pleasantries then started telling stories while they ate.
Isaac was very much enjoying his dinner when Kitch, who was sitting beside him, said, “You be sure to enjoy the meals you get here. When you are out in the field, you have to get used to hardtack, beans, and rice. If you’re lucky, you will get salt pork and coffee. Better do what the rest of us do and use some of your pay to buy onions and lemons to improve your nutrition. You don’t want to end up with the dreaded scurvy!” Isaac had no idea what scurvy was, but he would follow Kitch’s advice to avoid it.
Heading to the battlefield the next day, Isaac was apprehensive. He was put in a five-foot-deep trench with several other soldiers. They would toss down the injured soldiers and, with bullets buzzing over their heads, Isaac and the other soldiers would move the wounded down the bunker to other soldiers waiting to take them to the med tent.
After a restless night’s sleep, Isaac’s assignment the next day was to go on ahead of his division in search of any Confederate soldiers who were nearing their position. He had to keep low in the grass so as not to be spotted. As he approached a clearing, he saw a pair of boots and the lower part of two legs. Isaac stood and, seeing a Confederate uniform, raised his musket rifle. Implausibly, he found himself staring down the barrel at Elias McPhee, the Master’s son who had been his torturer. Isaac stepped back as the look on Elias’ face showed he was just as surprised to see him. Isaac wanted to shoot but his forefinger froze on the trigger. Elias, who had not raised his gun, said, “Go, ‘n-word.’ Turn around and run slave boy. You ain’t got the guts to shoot me.” Isaac turned slowly and started back the way he came, fully expecting to be shot in the back. However, the bullet did not come and he returned to his division with news that the Confederates were coming from the west.
When the Confederate soldiers finally arrived, a nasty battle ensued. Isaac, somehow without even thinking, shot a dozen men and was celebrated as at the end of the gunfight, the Union soldiers left all of the Graybacks dead on the battlefield.
That evening, there was much revelry in the barracks which included the consumption of alcohol which had been delivered as a reward for winning the battle. Isaac lay on his bed and listened to the merriment. He had killed twelve men that day and did not feel like rejoicing about that fact. He was numb from the experience.
He heard a lively game of cards being played and could only think about missing the friend he had lost when his Master had squandered him as a wager in a card game. He thought of another friend who was traded for a piece of machinery.
Isaac wondered if he had exchanged being a slave for a uniform, a gun, and a promise of freedom that held no details, only his commitment to help win the war. He felt he had traded his ownership from one man in a big white house to another.
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