This June weather in Illinois! Such glorious white clouds floating in
the boundless hemisphere of fresh blue! The warmth and the vitality of
the air! The glistening leaves of the forest trees! The deep green
shading into purples and blues of the distant woodlands! The sweet
winds, bending the prairie grasses for miles and miles! Glimpses of cool
water in little ponds, in small lakes, in the brook! The whispering of
rushes and the song of thrushes, so varied, so melodious! The call of
the plowman far afield, urging the horses ahead in the great work of
bringing forth the corn! The great moon at night, and the spectacle of
the stars in the hush of my forest hut!
I was superbly well. And for diversion went farther into the woods to
hear a fiddler and to have him teach me the art which fled my dull
fingers and the unwieldy bow. And this fiddler! His curly hair, always
wet from his lustrations for the evening meal; his cud of tobacco; his
racy locutions; his happy and contented spirit; and his merry wife and
the many children, wild like woodland creatures, with sparkling eyes and
overflowing vitality! Many evenings I spent at this fiddler's hut. And
such humbleness! Only the earth for a floor! Only one room where all his
family ate and slept and lived!
In going to St. Louis I took the same stage that had brought me to
Jacksonville. This time I rode on the _City of Alton_, a better boat
than the one that had brought me from La Salle to Bath; but all the
conditions were the same. There was the same roistering and sprawling
crowd; the same loudness and profanity; the same abundance of whisky and
its intemperate indulgence; the same barbaric hilarity of negroes,
driven and cursed. And now many goatees, and much talk of politics, of
Whigs and Democrats.
St. Louis was languid, weary and old. The buildings had an air of decay.
The stream of life moved sluggishly, not swiftly as in New York or
Buffalo, or even in the village of Chicago. There were luxury here and
wealth. There were slaves and a slave market. I went to it, saw the
business of selling these creatures, saw a woman of thirty, no darker
than Zoe, sold to a man with a goatee, evidently from further south, who
took her and led her away submissively. Whatever the institution might
be of necessity and even of gentleness in good hands, here no less was
the vile business of the sale. What would become of Zoe, was constantly
in my thought. I turned away from the slave market to continue my
shopping; but I could not drive Zoe from my thoughts.
Here was I in St. Louis and necessarily withdrawn from care of Zoe. I
could not always watch over her. Even if I did, what was her life to be?
How could she establish herself? With whom, and where? I was glad that
I had not left her at the hut during my absence, that I had taken her to
Sarah. Nothing could happen to her while she was with Sarah. Sarah had
need of her too. Sarah's baby was soon to be born. Dorothy Clayton,
Reverdy's sister, was coming to Jacksonville from Nashville to be a part
of Reverdy's household for a time; and the house had to be set in order
for her arrival. Turning Zoe over to Sarah was, therefore, a great help
to her at this time.
I completed my purchases, arranged for their transportation and returned
to Jacksonville. I arrived in the evening and went at once to Reverdy's.
I had been gone a week. All were here to greet me. But Zoe was subdued
in manner. Her smile was forced. She avoided me, going in and out of the
room about the work of clearing the table. She did not pause to listen
to the story of my trip. Was she perhaps ill? Reverdy and Sarah
prevailed upon me to stay over night. And I did; but early the next
morning all of us went to the country together; for Reverdy was now
pushing the house to completion.
When we arrived at the hut, as Zoe remained silent and subdued, I began
to question her. She protested at first that nothing was the matter; but
I knew better, and I persisted in my attempts to draw her out. She began
to cry at last. She came to me and rested her head on my shoulder. "Tell
me now," I urged. And she relieved herself of the secret in broken
words, in half-formed phrases.
She had gone walking one night with Lamborn. He had led her into the
woods in search of a rabbit's nest he said was there. He had seized
her, put his hand over her mouth, threatened her with harm, with being
sold down South. He had overcome her. She had returned to Reverdy's
afraid to tell him what had happened. She did not know what Lamborn
would do to her if Reverdy went after him. She felt that she was in the
wrong for having gone walking with Lamborn, and that she would be blamed
by Sarah. Therefore she had not told her secret before. She was sure
that neither Sarah nor Reverdy suspected it.
What was I to do? I could not conceive of a wrong like this going
unpunished. But my brain refused to plan, to think out what was best to
do. I did not know the community well enough, nor enough of the laws to
make a decision by myself. I decided that I must consult with Reverdy. I
hurried away from Zoe, telling her on no account to leave the hut; and
went to find Reverdy. He was at work on my house, looked at me
wonderingly as if to question what had brought me over so soon. I drew
him aside and told him what I knew.
Reverdy's blue eyes grew terribly deep. They darkened like clouds in a
rapidly gathering storm. They were full of comprehending compassion.
They expressed alarm, but also an inexorable sense of futility, as if
there was nothing to be done. He was silent. He had fought the Indians;
he was used to the rough life of the West. He did not betray fear;
rather he acted as if there was nothing to be done. When he began to
speak that was the tenor of his words. He revealed to me possibilities
that I had never dreamed of. I could see that I was caught in
unforeseen circumstances. Some of the dangers involved in the situation
he only hinted at. For example, the matter of my living with Zoe. There
might be people in Jacksonville who believed that my attitude toward Zoe
was not of a brotherly nature. Such a suspicion seemed horrible to me.
But Reverdy went on to show me why it might be entertained. This remote
country, lacking in opportunity for legitimate expression, held secrets
of bestial and gross departures from nature. Here was Zoe, young and
beautiful. What did our kindred blood have to do with the matter of my
desire? I had not grown up with her, and it would be natural enough if I
did not feel toward her as a brother. Incest was common enough around
here. As to Lamborn, Zoe was a nigger, and the spoil of any one who
wanted her. These were some of the things that Reverdy hinted at. If I
prosecuted Lamborn, the countercharge would be made that I had been
intimate with Zoe myself. If she had a child I would be proclaimed its
father, especially if I raised an issue, and tried to fix the paternity
upon Lamborn. If I went to see the state's attorney and asked him to
act, there was danger that he would not wish to do so, because the
present state's attorney was about to lose the office. He would not wish
to start a social hostility that would react upon himself. In fact,
Douglas was now trying to supplant him. I was known as a friend of
Douglas'. Perhaps I would be trying to involve the state's attorney in
an unpopular prosecution. If the prosecuting attorney refused to act
that refusal would be known, and credit might be given to any reports
that might arise that Zoe was mine before she was Lamborn's, if she ever
was his. And if I resented the prosecuting attorney's refusal to act,
then I might be accused of acting with Douglas in his ambition to get
the office. Above all, under the law of Illinois, Zoe could not testify
against Lamborn, a white man. Thus, in any prosecution that was to be
made, evidence independent of Zoe's word had to be procured. Where was
such evidence? That really settled the whole matter. But I had gone
through the whole range of deliberation before finding out that Zoe's
word would not be received in court.
But why had Reverdy not warned me against taking Zoe to live with me?
There was the matter, too, of my equal division of the estate with Zoe.
I had done this with the purest of motives. Now the edge of it was
turned against me. For why would I surrender so much when I did not have
to?
What was I now to do? Should I send Zoe away? Should I keep her in my
household and let the tongues wag, as they were doing, or clatter if Zoe
should have a child? The secret would be out soon. Lamborn would be sure
to betray the fact that he had captured Zoe. There seemed nothing to do
then but to settle down with British tenacity to live it out, and brave
whatever came to me out of the complications. I was sure of the
friendship of Reverdy and Sarah.
With these reflections I went back to the hut. Zoe was still in tears.
She asked me if she had not better go away. If I would give her some of
her money she would leave and never come back. "No," I said. "I am going
to see you through, Zoe. We will face this out together; only do you
consult me about what to do, and help me to stand by you."
I sat down and began to think it all over again. Here were all the
pretty things I had bought in St. Louis soon to arrive, and the house
would be ready to occupy in a few days. Yet these happy events were
clouded for me. There was real bitterness in my cup now.