Josephine

Josephine

One warm spring morning in early May of eighteen sixty four the peace and quiet of Grand Oak was shattered in a most spectacular fashion. For two days, everyone had been listening to the deep rumble of what they believed to be thunder in the distance. The skies had been dull gray and filled with ominous clouds, but rain had not come. A blustery wind from the west bullied the angry clouds and set them in turbulent motion. They passed overhead, like chariots, bearing the gods of the Acropolis on some urgent errand. As evening fell on the second night the clouds thickened and the wind shifted to the north.

"It won't be long now" said Aunt Effie. "Look how the trees are turning their leaves upside down asking for rain. And the swallows are circling low to the ground too. That's a sure sign of rain."

Aunt Effie was interrupted by a loud crack of thunder which caused everyone in the parlor to jump. Seeming to shake the very foundation of the great house, the thunder echoed through the parlor and down the hallways. The deafening roar was followed by a mighty gust of wind and a brilliant flash of lightning. The latter ripped through the clouds in a blinding flash. Almost as if they had been slashed open by the lightning, the clouds parted, spilling their heavy burden of wind driven water on the landscape below. The ladies quickly fastened the shutters and drew the drapes against the tempest. They sat huddled together with Grandmother who, trying to take everybody's mind off the storm, told them a story.

"The Captain used to say that the oak tree was the home of Thor, the God of thunder," she began. "The Captain had acorns and oak leaves carved into the woodwork and cut into mantelpieces to please Thor and to ward off lightning strikes. In exchange for honoring him Thor promised he would protect the house and the people inside as long as the oak stood guard through the storm. The Indians too believed that a great spirit lived in the tree. Many years before the white man came they found safety and shelter beneath the mighty oak. Birds and squirrels sought solace in its branches and deer and rabbits grazed on the grass that grew beneath it. Indeed the great tree had stood through many storms sheltering all sorts of God's creatures. No doubt it will stand through many more."

"But you know there is a dark side to the tree as well. When the constables captured the pirates that terrorized these coasts they hanged them from this very oak!" Grandmother smiled as the eyes of her audience widened in fear.

With that a staccato clap of thunder sounding much like a gun shot reverberated through the house. The ladies jumped and screamed. Grandmother smiled as if she had planned the sound effects. She sat back against her chair and resumed her knitting as if nothing had happened.

Except for Mary Alice, the ladies in the room all laughed nervously.

The rain remained heavy for hours. Several times during the night Josephine thought she heard men shouting or horses whinnying. She looked around at the peaceful scene before her. The soft glow of the fireplace cast a golden glow over the room. Pirates forgotten, everyone had been lulled sound asleep by the rhythm of the rain. Josephine decided the sounds were just her imagination and soon, she herself, drifted off to sleep.

By the next morning the rain had stopped. Brilliant sunshine and clear blue skies replaced the clouds from the previous two days. The birds chattered in the trees outside and there seemed to be a lot of noise on the front lawn not too far from the house.

Just as she had done every morning for the last six months Mary Alice unhooked the iron fasteners and opened the shutters to let in the fresh morning air. Suddenly she gave a strange strangled cry and backed into the room both hands clutching her throat. Everyone in the parlor rushed to the window to see what had upset the poor girl so.

There on the lawn as far as the eye could see were tents, hundreds and hundreds of tents. They had sprung up overnight, like mushrooms after the spring rain. There were soldiers too, Yankee soldiers, scurrying about in a great deal of urgency.

Josephine, taking charge, addressed the group. For once everyone was silent.

"Everybody just sit quietly here in the house. I'll take Big Jawn and find out what is going on," she said.

As Josephine and Big Jawn made their way across the front lawn, it became apparent what had been happening in the countryside for the last two days. Unbeknownst to those at the plantation, what had sounded like thunder in the distance had actually been cannon fire. A battle had been raging several miles upriver from the house. Wishing to get the wounded out of harms way, the Union forces had removed them to a location away from the fighting. Scouts had found the relative peace and quiet of the homestead a safe location in which to locate their field hospital.

After questioning several soldiers Josephine got the location of the commanding officer's tent. She went to pay him a visit.

The westerly wind had blown the sounds and smells of battle away from the house. The direction of the wind had changed overnight and the smell of gun power hung heavy in the air replacing the scent of flowers. The wounded seemed to be everywhere on the great lawn and soldiers scurried about sorting out those in need of the most urgent care and dispatching them to the operating tents on stretchers. So far the ladies had been spared seeing the war up close and personal. Things were difficult in Charleston and the shelling had been unnerving but now the war was at their door step. Strange new smells had replaced the familiar scents of the grounds. There was the acrid stench of gunpowder. There was also the smell of blood, sweat and wet canvas in the air and there was something else, something unfamiliar, something cruel It was the smell of death. The war had come to Grand Oak.