Before Lawrence: September 19th -- Neighbors
Chapter eleven of Before Lawrence, watching for Jayhawks.
This is the eleventh chapter of Before Lawrence. To learn more about the purpose of writing this story, check out the “Forward.” Before Lawrence is part of The Missouri Chronicles. Follow the story by subscribing on Substack, contribute your thoughts, and check out the added resources.
The sun would rise on September 19th preceded by a brief thunderstorm. It was hardly enough rain to dampen the dust on the ground. Francis Chouteau rode out to the bluffs as soon as his chores were done for the morning and he had some breakfast. He found Philip Jackson sitting at the foot of a large tree.
“Nothing new I suppose?”
“Nah. Been very quiet. Been tough to stay awake all night.”
“Why don’t you head back to the farm, have a nice breakfast, and catch up on your sleep.”
Francis thought he would be spending the entire day alone, hoping that his oldest boy might join him. Instead, lumbering across the field, rode Jake Coonce. He was dressed in his accustomed manner, a peculiar mixture of woolen slacks, a cotton shirt and a leather jacket. He wore a broad-brimmed leather hat. Mounted in his saddle was a cap-fired rifle affectionately named Betsey.
“Hello Jake.”
“Hello Francis. Thought you might be a bit lonely out here.”
The two men patted each other on the shoulder and shook hands. They had been neighbors for over 20 years. As isolated as they were, they had grown quite close to one another, depending on their mutual support to run their farms – and to simply survive. Both men were noted frontiersmen. They said little to each other most of the time, sharing this quiet bond. In temperament, they were much different. Francis was reserved and rarely shared an opinion. He never spoke negatively regarding anyone – well, at least most of the time. Jake? He was also a man of little words, but he had a temper that could be triggered. He did not hesitate to tell a man about what he thought of an issue or of a person.
So it was the hours passed, but little was said until Jake broke the silence.
“Francis. I have often wondered how you can run your farm without slaves.”
“It is this magical mix of children and paid hands, and a good-hearted neighbor.”
“Our farms are roughly the same size. Yet you manage with yourself and maybe one or two hired hands.”
“When you don’t have slaves, you have to farm different. You grow tobacco which takes a lot of work. I grow just enough for myself if I ever grow any at all. I have more livestock because I can’t cover all the acres with grain. But I also have a piece of farm equipment to harvest the wheat.”
“What did you pay for that piece of equipment?”
“About what it cost someone to buy a young, strong slave.”
“Hmm. We don’t talk about it much, but what is your take on owning slaves, being that you have none?”
“Goodness. After 20 years we are finally talking about it. Don’t care to own one, Jake.”
“What about the slave owners?”
“Do you mean, what about Jake Coonce?”
Jake laughed. “Certainly. What about him?”
“You carry a burden I do not have to carry. You have four slaves, correct?”
“Yep.”
“People you have to feed, clothe and shelter. People who live on your farm all year round. Me? I pay a man only as long as I need him. You pay out front, paying for what amounts to a piece of farm equipment, hoping to receive a lifetime of labor. I pay only what I need to pay, for work that is done only when I need it.
“Jake, I’ll be honest with you. The one thing I have noticed more than anything else is how you are tied to them. When they are not happy with you, you have to live with it. Me? If someone does not like me, they can walk away or I can let them go. You? You have to live with it! “
“Hmm. I suppose you are right. The irony about the whole thing is that they sort of become your family. You can’t walk away from a slave. You are tied to him as much as he is tied to you. I have two I can count on. Two that I would just as soon sell on the market, but I need them. I at least know what they are capable of. If I traded them, I would have no guarantees that the slaves that replaced them would be any better.”
A few minutes of silence passed. A gentle breeze was refreshing as a Carolina wren sang in a nearby tree.
Francis asked, “So, are you worried about what the Jayhawkers might do? Word is that they’ll let the slaves go free.”
“Damn right I’m worried. We still have corn in the field. If I were to lose my two men, there’d be no way I’d get that corn into the barn.”
“I agree. Every year we have helped each other with harvest. We need every man in the field, slave or free.”
There was several minutes of quiet as the men gazed over the valley where the Osage and the Sac rivers joined. Jake then said, “Francis, if you are so dead set against slavery, how is it you aren’t fighting with the Jayhawkers?”
“Jake, I fight to protect myself and my neighbors. This whole, nasty war is senseless. I am against owning slaves, but I believe it is up to people like you, Jake Coonce, to end it. My fear is that the Jayhawkers will be nothing but thieves and murderers wearing blue uniforms. Slavery will have nothing to do with it. In the end, innocent people will pay. People like you and me who want nothing more than to be left alone.”
© Copyright 2024 to Eric Niewoehner
Previous Chapter: September 15
Next Chapter: September 20
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Oo, this is a good one!