Somewhere Down the Road by Mary Eleanor Wilson

Author:Mary Eleanor Wilson [Wilson, Mary Eleanor]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Victorian, Women's Fiction, Civil War
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Published: 2014-11-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

The weather turned hotter, steaming the ground and wilting plants in the garden. Jane took to carrying a fan with her everywhere she went, and Ellen found any excuse she could to visit the root cellar.

An unspoken yet agreed upon silence about Caroline and the wedding descended after Ben’s visit. Tassie stayed busy arranging Ellen’s flour sacks into an acceptable pattern for the girl’s new dress, and Micah occupied his time on the elusive and mysterious farm.

True to Ben’s word, the circuit riding preacher returned to hold church at a small chapel just outside of Elizabethtown. Services had been sporadic, and sometimes canceled, throughout the years of the war.

Tassie understood why. After traveling from Piney Gap, she realized how dangerous the road could be.

The preacher was a short wisp of a fellow with round spectacles and thin hair. His demeanor bore the presence of a schoolteacher rather than a man of God.

The Sunday morning when the Corchorans and Tassie made the bumpy trip to church, Brother Eugene Bedford greeted the congregation and then climbed up into his pulpit.

“Today,” he began, “we’re going to talk about sin.”

Tassie pursed her lips. That was nothing new, she figured. Preachers always talked about sin.

“We’re going to talk about slaves and how they’re running around all over the place with nobody overseeing what they’re doing.”

Silence hung over the congregation. Tassie felt Micah stiffen beside her, and she stole a glance in his direction. His face was stony and hard,

Brother Bedford slammed his fist down on the pulpit with as much force as he could muster. “It’s an abomination, I tell you. You should see the land throughout the south. Homes destroyed, lives torn asunder. And for what? The freedom of a bunch of ignorant people who don’t even appreciate it.”

“That is enough!” Micah leapt to his feet. “How can you stand in the house of God and say such things? You’re talking about people—not animals. We treat our animals better than slaves have been treated.”

His voice shook with fury, and Tassie stared up at him in astonishment. She hadn’t realized he felt so strongly about the slave situation. A wave of great pride for him rolled through her, and she squeezed Ellen’s hand from the other side.

“You sit down, Micah Corchoran. Everyone knows you’re a slave sympathizer. It’s people like you that ruined this country with war and violence.”

A few people supported the preacher’s admonitions with “Amens” but most sat in shocked silence. They stared at Tassie and the Corchorans with unabashed glee at finding such entertainment right there in church. She glared back at them, determined not to make it easy for them to find fault.

“God loves everyone—isn’t that what I learned in this church growing up? If he loves everyone, why can’t we? Charity for others cannot include hate for the color of skin. They are free now and praise goes to God for their deliverance!” Micah’s booming voice rattled the windows of the small church.

“Shut your mouth, blasphemer.” The preacher pointed one shaking finger.

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