JAFFRAY was now Postmaster of Jefferson. he city had resumed its normal
life and gained in population and wealth. The streets were filled with
wagons loaded with bales of cotton brought from as far away as 250
miles by ox teams, which took three weeks.
Jefferson was at the head of navigation on an arm of the Red
River. Steamboats came up once or twice a week and the cotton was
shipped to New Orleans and from that city to the mills in the East.
When the boats arrived the scene on the levee was a very animated one.
Negroes would fix large bill hooks into the bagging around the cotton
bales and load them into drays. Some of them worked singing, as
sailors do when they haul and pull.
Sometimes the captains of the larger steamboats would issue
invitations to the families for a soiree, when the excitement would
fill society for days. The ladies would dress in their silks and laces
and the men spruce up in their frock coats and flowered waistcoats and
cross the gang plank into the kerosene-lighted steamboats and dance until
morning. Those were red letter days for Jefferson. As a matter of
etiquette, when the steamboat was loaded and about to start back,
everybody would be at the levee to wave good-bye. The side paddle would
turn and the hospitable captain would be up in the pilot house, waving
his cap in return until the churning side-wheel carried him around the
bend.
New houses were dotting the town here and there, some of them
large and handsome with spacious grounds. Kerosene oil lamps were put
up to light the streets and an "Opera House" was built, where many a
stock company came to play in tragedy or comedy. Shakespeare's plays
were the favorites of the community and Jaffray and Renestine went
often to the theatre, accompanied by their two daughters, who were in
their advanced school-day years and able to appreciate it. There were
two little sons added to their family circle; they remained asleep in
their trundle beds with old Aunt Caroline watching over them, as she
had watched over the little daughters. Josiah had died right after the
war was over, but he lived to see his people freed and schools opened
where they could be taught to read and write--a precious privilege. He
had said to Aunt Caroline just before his last illness: "Thanks be to
God that He has set the colored folks free, but thanks be to Him mosen
for gibbin' me a good marsa and missus who gibs me my close, my vittles
and my me'cine."
The relation of the household servants to the Southern family
was that of trust and affection after their liberation. In advanced
years, like old Aunt Caroline, the younger servants saved them
unnecessary steps and their days were happy and peaceful.
Near the home which Renestine and Jaffrav occupied almost
touching the porch was a huge oak tree spreading wide shade around it.
Here the children played; or, if it was a rainy day, they carried
their precious dolls and drums into the latticed summer house built for
ornamentation and use in very hot weather, where woodbine and
honeysuckle ran along its diamond-shaped walls and hung thick and
colorful in great waves. Jaffray loved his home and spared nothing
that would make it comfortable and attractive.
His days were very arduous now, as he had to learn the methods
of a government position. It appealed to him, though, for it was a
pursuit which required reading up on rules, laws and regulations, and
his bent was for books and instruction from them. While his days
passed in attending to the business of the Post Office, his nights were
given to study and self-improvement. He was never satisfied with what
he achieved; to learn and to know more and more was his ruling passion.
Many citizens now called upon him for advice. He would be asked to
speak when a new building was opened or a public movement was on foot.
They knew him to be generous and full of civic pride. He belonged to
the Board of Aldermen and at one time was offered the office of Mayor.
He had the confidence and respect of all the inhabitants of the town
and his politeness and gentleness were the qualifications which made
them love him.
He was a tall, spare figure, with black, well-set eyes, black
hair, now showing thin at the temples and somewhat bald; he had a short
black beard and moustache and his carriage was upright and dignified.
He could be stern, even severe, when things aroused his anger, and
nothing could touch his temper quicker than underhand dealings or a
mean act. But his whole being was steeped with love of his kind and
sympathy with the poor.
In the early days of Jefferson he and a friend bought a deed
for a cemetery and presented it to the Jewish community. His home was
opened to social and political gatherings where his friends were sure
of a warm welcome. Renestine was always the center of attraction of
these social affairs. She was proud of her husband and flushed with
happiness when she saw him surrounded by admiring groups of men.
At this time a new influence came into their lives. It was a
fine old Frenchman, who had drifted down to Jefferson from Alabama,
where he had been a professor of piano teaching. His name was
D'Archais, and by degrees they learned his history. But the immediate
result of their meeting was to give their two little daughters, now
eight and ten years old, to him to be instructed in music.
The history of this new friend was a romantic one. During the
time of Louis Philippe he left Paris. His property and title had been
taken by the revolutionists for he was an aristocrat, a Count, and he
found that he was safer with the ocean between him and his beloved
Paris.
He landed in Mobile, Alabama, and used his accomplishments of
painting and music as a means of gaining a livelihood. For many years
he worked in his profession and accumulated enough to lay aside. This
he invested in cotton which was destroyed in a warehouse by fire. It
was hard, but he began all over again and in the meantime married a
widow with a daughter. This step-daughter won his complete affection,
and when she married he devoted himself to her two children, a girl and
a boy. It was because of these two children that he came to Jefferson,
where they were then living.
The music teacher was 70 years old when he came into the lives
of Jaffray and Renestine; a polished, grand old man of kingly soul and
manners. The little daughters quickly learned to love their dear old
teacher and all his life time he was their dear friend.
Jaffray was much impressed by this gentle nobleman and was glad
to have the privilege of his friendship for himself and his family. He
found that he was easily tired in these days and welcomed nightfall
when he could sit on the porch in the twilight of summer and feel the
peace of evening creep on apace. Often Mr. D'Archais would join him
and chat about travel and the fall and rise of political parties in
France.
"I left France after the fall of Louis Philippe," he said, "and
came to America. My property was confiscated and I arrived here
penniless. A friend of mine had gone to Mobile, Alabama, some years
before, and I resolved to follow him. I began life over again and took
a position in a young ladies' academy there to teach piano. I had
taken lessons from renowned musicians in Paris, the same as taught
Napoleon's sister, Pauline, and this was my only means now of making a
living.
"I did very well, lived comfortably and saved a little besides,
so that when the war broke out I had invested in cotton which was in a
warehouse waiting to be sold. A large fire destroyed the warehouse
with its contents, leaving me penniless once more, as there was not a
dollar of insurance on it.
"In the meantime my friend had died leaving his family--wife
and daughter--in my care. I decided to carry out his wish on his
deathbed and married his wife soon after. His daughter became my joy
and happiness. She was docile, ma foi, so perfect, that in a few
years, when she married, I was irreconcilable." Here the music master
would stop, let his face drop into his big, white, soft hands for a
moment and then go on with his story. "She died three years after her
marriage, leaving two children, a boy and a girl. These children were
adopted by people here in this state and I followed. Jefferson was
recommended to me as a good place to begin a class in music. I am not
sorry I came as I have made friends and in my old age I can look
forward to peace and a few devoted pupils to brighten the days." Many
times during his recital he would exclaim: "Mon Dieu, mon dieu, I have
seen many trials and tribulations."
Jaffray was always sorry to see Mr. D'Archais leave; his
personality and story were romantic and picturesque. Long into the
shadows of the night he would sit watching the stars come out one by
one, thinking of the troublous life of the nobleman and simple music
teacher.
In the Autumn Jaffray took to his bed utterly worn out and grew
very ill, so ill that the family doctor felt a great deal of concern
about his symptoms. He instructed that Jaffray be kept very quiet on a
low diet and stimulants, to be given every few hours. This treatment
benefited Jaffray so that he was able to sit up in a favorite arm chair
now and then and listen to Charles Dickens' story, "Our Mutual Friend,"
then running as a serial in Harper's Magazine, read to him by his
little gray-eyed daughter now ten years old.
At the close of the reading one morning he said: "What a great
man! I'd rather die to-day and leave behind me the fame of Charles
Dickens than live to be a hundred years old."
Much encouraged by Jaffray's condition, Renestine took fresh
hope and went about her daily occupation with more energy. She knew
Jaffray's tender affection for his children and when on his good days
he had been made comfortable in his big arm chair the two young
daughters, Lola and Ena, and their little brothers, Lester, Andrew and
Frank, were allowed to come into his room and be near him, the infant
son Frank resting in his arms, Lola standing by like a little mother
watching over them all.
Other days he would look out of the window and watch the big
oak tree standing near, with its leaves turning brown, shaking in the
wind. Winter was turning the vines on the summer house into lifeless
twists of runners and bending the rose hushes until the petals were
strewn about the ground.
It was not until the first week in November that Renestine
noticed that Jaffray was not as strong as usual. He kept to his bed
now altogether, and his great heart seemed to speak to her of what was
uppermost there--the parting; after only thirteen years of wedded life
the end had come. His little Queen Esther with the rosebuds on her
gown!
In his last moments he said to a friend: "What does it matter
whether a man lives a little longer or not? It is only the loved ones
he leaves that matter."
At his death the city closed the places of business by
proclamation of the Mayor, and the long line of followers at his bier
to the little cemetery he had given testified to the love his fellow
men bore him.
Renestine was crushed. Her five children were to be lived for,
of course, but how could she face the long years before her? She was
young, inexperienced, unused to the world and its ways. She was
overwhelmed by her fate. The assets of a generous man at his death
are debts and some friends. Had it not been for the advice and
devotion of a few friends, Renestine would have gone down in the black
waters that were now surging around her. The Post Office was looked
after until she could find strength in body and mind to assume the
duties of Post Mistress to which she was appointed. When she entered
the door that first morning it was as a broken spirit without any idea
of what she was about to undertake. The task was serious and exacting,
she realized, but how to grasp its thousand details? Her master would
be the U. S. Government, an uncompromising, stern and bloodless one.
Not many years before, this little woman was an immigrant
child, landing with timid step on strange soil. To-day she was ushered
into the important office of Government Mail and Money matters, one of
the most responsible positions in the country.
With her usual courage and determination to learn, Renestine
set about the long figures of quarterly returns and register reports,
money order and stamp reports, making up and distributing mail, prompt
deliveries and sending out of mail. Her pride in her new life
responded to the demands made upon her and she went forward. Unafraid
now, for she had a grasp of the difficulties, she bent her work. She
pored over her monthly and quarterly returns in the quiet of night, and
over and over again she wrote and figured until she understood and
could make them out correctly. She was encouraged by her friends, and
complimented by the bankers and merchants in the city for her
successful efforts.
The first year was a long trial to Renestine. Her children
were young and needed her care and guidance as well as the new
occupation. But the little mother was all the busier when she returned
home in the evening. With a divine strength to perform and serve, she
labored.
The education of each child was followed patiently, eagerly,
unceasingly, by her. Music and languages, besides the fundamentals,
were to be given to each.
The bodies were clothed by her flying fingers at night. What a
boon ready-to-wear would have been to this little mother. Not a boy's
garment could be had unless it was the handiwork of the household.
One evening, many years afterward, Renestine returned to her
home with her sixteenth commission in her hand. She had served the
public of Jefferson faithfully and efficiently and the people had
honored her. During these years her elder daughter had married but
only lived a year after her marriage. This was another searing sorrow
and for many days seemed to consume her. Now her second daughter was
about to become the wife of a noble man who had long wished to wed her
and take her back with him to make their home in New York City.
This evening she sat in the midst of her little family and
recalled many scenes of her life. She was still a young woman,
forty-eight, and she intended sending her resignation to Washington. She
was about to leave Jefferson and follow her daughter to New York where
there were better opportunities for the advancement of her three sons.
The following day she went with her prospective son-in-law and her
daughter to pay a farewell visit to Mr. D'Archais at his little
two-roomed house. The old man rose with his arms outstretched to meet
them and his "little girl" was soon enclosed in them. On parting he
turned to her soon-to-be husband and said:
"Make her happy. Make my little girl happy," and held his hand
affectionately in his own.
So it was that Renestine, the little immigrant girl, became a
superb woman of deeds, a wonderful American mother whose grandchildren
have fought in this last war to win democracy for the world!
THE END