T. Novan - Words Heard In Silence / Xena Uber

That left the selection of a ladies maid for Rebecca. None of the people before him had any skills in this very elite calling for the servant class. But one girl caught Charlie’s eye. She was young, perhaps fifteen or sixteen, skinny as a rail, and clearly shy. What got his attention was the way she tried to take care of herself. In this pigsty of a shantytown, her dress was clean and unwrinkled, her hair was carefully braided and combed and she had tied it back with a bit of grosgrain ribbon that was shiny with age but still carefully tended. Lizbet was what the others in the group called her. And Lizbet became the fourth servant that Charlie picked.

He gave them instructions to go to the mercantile and get a new suit of clothing each, including shoes and a winter coat, get their belongings together and report to the main house on the following day. The terms were simple. First, they had to satisfy Miss Rebecca. They had to be clean, neat and orderly, and do the work given to them. Assuming the work was satisfactory, he would pay them each a dime a day, payable monthly plus food, shelter and a new suit of clothes, including shoes, twice a year. They would get Sunday mornings and one afternoon during the weekday off to attend church and take care of their own affairs.

Those who were not hired looked so dejected that Charlie could not just leave. "I have just hired four of you. I have every expectation that we will find ways to create gainful employment for as many of you as I can. Until then, you may see my mess chief, Sergeant Jamison or one of his men every day at dinnertime for a bowl of rice and beans. None will be turned away. There may also be day work available from time to time while we are here in winter camp. I will set up a tent at the edge of the camp that you can report to every day to find out what day work is available. Any day worker will be paid according to his or her skills. I wish I could do better for you." With that, he left, eager to be gone from this depressing place.

--*--

He set a brisk pace back to the mercantile where he was to collect Rebecca. The condition of the negroes in that miserable collection of shacks offended him. They may have been slaves at one time, but they were still part of the community. Surely, the good people of Culpeper could have done something for them. Ah, but charity begins at home, and these ex-slaves are not worth the bone thrown to a starving dog, according to some. Well, lets see just how much we can shake these good folks up. Charlie was as loaded for bear as Rebecca.

Pulling up before the store, he looped the reins around the brake handle on the little trap. Shannon was so well trained that she was just as good when driving as she was when riding. She would stand, waiting for his return, and more than willing to resist any attempt to get her to move by any other individual. He brushed the dust off his coat and hat, and prepared to make a grand entrance into the store that served as a social center as well as a primary resource to the community. As he dismounted from the cart, he was entirely aware that every person there on the little main street was watching him. Give ‘‘em a good show, Charlie. He slowly looked up and down the street, seeking to make eye contact with every single person there. A small, wry smile twisted his mouth slightly, but did not make it to his eyes. Not one of the folks watching him had the nerve to face him head on.

Charlie stepped into the store. While he did not actually have to duck to enter, he did anyway, giving the impression of being taller than he actually was. He pulled his gloves off and tucked them into his belt. His hat came off with a flourish and took up residence under his left arm. Everyone in the main room came to a dead stop, staring at the tall man standing in the door. His presence filled the room.

A quick glance at Rebecca’s face told Charlie that she was not a happy person. While she was smiling politely, there was a guarded look to her eyes and a slightly pinched quality to her mouth that told him something was up. He smiled at her, and bowed slightly. "Miss Rebecca. I await your pleasure, ma’am."

He bowed to Mrs. Cooper, and stood, waiting for an introduction.

Rebecca shook herself. "Forgive me, Colonel. Mr. and Mrs. Cooper? May I present Colonel Charles Redmond? Colonel Redmond is the regimental commander of the troops who are currently staying on my property. Colonel Redmond, Mr. and Mrs. Cooper are my dear friends here in Culpeper."

Charlie bowed over Mrs. Cooper’s hand and rumbled in his lowest voice, "Enchantez, Madame. I have heard complimentary things of you, ma’am, but they cannot compare with the charm of your actual acquaintance."

Rebecca looked at Charlie with a slightly surprised look. The accent was back in full force and Charlie was not giving the folks in the store even a moment to do anything other than respond politely to the very formal, very southern gentleman standing before them, even though he was wearing Yankee blue.

Turning to Mr. Cooper, the Colonel advanced and offered his bared hand. "Ah, Mr. Cooper. I have heard very good things of you, sir, from my quartermaster. Please be assured, I have been advised by my commanding officer that we will convert to a cash, rather than scrip basis within the next ten days. Your cooperation with my staff has been greatly appreciated."

Reaching into his coat pocket, Charlie pulled out his personal wallet. "I have retained some servants for my comfort as we winter over here. It is my intention to pay them on a monthly basis, but for them to be prepared to serve my needs, they need to be properly clothed. I hope you do not mind that I have sent them to you for those needs, sir. If I may, here is 50 dollars as a initial payment on my tab." He laid two golden double eagle twenty-dollar coins and a handful of silver dollars on the counter.

Mr. Cooper’s eyes bulged. He had not seen that much real cash coming from one customer in a long time.

"Sarah, Beulah, Reg and Lizbet should be visiting shortly. Please, sir, take proper care of them. I would like them to each have a new suit of clothing, shoes and a winter coat. Thank you." Mr. Cooper could only stand there and nod.

Charlie turned to Rebecca, who was enjoying this bravura performance. "Miss Rebecca? Are you ready, or shall I wait."

"No, Colonel, you need not wait. I have the things I need immediately all boxed and ready, and Mr. Cooper has promised to send me the rest of my supplies."

"Then, ma’am, as soon as Mr. Cooper’s clerk has loaded the trap, I will drive you back to your home."

He turned to Mrs. Cooper, and bowed over her hand. "Ma’am, I trust we will meet again." A polite nod to Mr. Cooper, and Charlie extended his arm to Rebecca.

Escorting her to the trap, they waited, chatting about the weather growing colder, as the slightly rattled clerk loaded the boxes and packages in the back of the trap. The Coopers and the other folks who had been in the store straining to overhear the conversation between the dashing Colonel and Mrs. Gaines all trailed them to the boardwalk to bid them farewell. He then settled Rebecca in the little cart and carefully tucked the lap rug over her knees, before climbing in and clucking Shannon into action.

As soon as they were out of earshot of the rather overwhelmed citizens of Culpeper, Rebecca laid her hand on his arm. "Lovely act, Daniel. The lions may be tamed yet."

They rode home with Rebecca regaling Charlie with stories of the absurdity of her neighbors, all of the lovely, ridiculous, salacious stories that every small town has about its denizens, laughing together gently over the silly situations that small town self righteousness can create. As they approached the manor, Charlie brought up the subject of house servants. Rebecca had assumed that he had hired help for the camp, and had not paid too much attention to the specifics. She was in for a surprise.