CHAPTER 33—BALANCE

21 SEPTEMBER 1860

We joined Rufus and Miss Mattie for lunch, which turned into a lengthy conversation, but not before I got to have my grandsons climb up on my lap. John, now three, fished out a lump of sugar from my apron pocket where I always hide it for him to find. 

“Where are my hugs and kisses?” I asked of them. “Who will give me sugar in return?” They obliged, giggling.

We were summoned to lunch. “Miss Mattie, are Lucy and Louisa managing the cooking, cleaning, and nanny responsibilities well?”

I did not think it inappropriate for a mother-in-law to ask.

“They do seem to be kept very busy.”

Then the solution to our recent quandary presented itself. I addressed my husband, who stared at me with an arched eyebrow. “Dearest,” I began, “I wish to go with you to visit those who extended an invitation. Sally then would have nothing to do.”

“Well, darling, this is unexpected.”

“It should not be. Though I prefer the country, I never thought it would be so lonely. And Sally would be of better use here.”

Catching Rufus’ quizzical eye, I added, “That is, of course, if our son and daughter-in-law would wish this.”

“But Mother, Sally has four young children. Where would the five stay? And what of Alex?”

“I suspect he and his brothers can build a cabin in just a few days. And, sweetheart,” I turned to John, “he could stay here when not needed at the factory. I imagine they can use help here with the farm work.”

My husband rubbed the back of his neck, hesitating before responding.

“When not needed is key, Louisa.”

“I believe, dearest, that once your hired men are fully trained and up to their tasks, you can spare him.”

Rufus cleared his throat and reached over to place his hand atop his wife’s while studying me. “I do not suppose you would care for our opinion, would you?” His lips cast a slanted line, making me unsure if he was being witty.

Mattie squeezed her husband’s hand, then released it to finger the outer rim of her plate.

“Son, do you have questions?” I was trying to diffuse any dissent.

Miss Mattie grinned at me. “Mother LeBois, how soon can this be arranged? Of course, we would not turn down the opportunity for added help, assuming they can provide for themselves with lodging and food.”

I glanced at John, who was deep in thought. I took advantage of his silence.

“Well, then,” I said, “that is settled. Rufus, why not confer with your brother on the logistics of when Alex, Ishmael, and George can begin building that cabin?”

An uncomfortable silence descended. 

I turned to my love, hoping he might break the tension. “Is this is a workable plan, dearest?” 

He rubbed his chin, a habit he had when weighing his words. “Possibly. We must make sure that everyone is in agreement. We will discuss this with Joe.”

Involving Joe was a way for him to delay. Still, I took it as a small victory.

“Rufus,” I returned to my son, “how is the militia doing? Have you won any shooting medals lately?”

“We are not having competitions now, Mother. Instead, we are deep in discussions about how we are going to reorganize, given the secessionist sentiment and the possibilities of conflict arising.”

Conflict. War, he meant.

“What do you mean by ‘reorganize’?”

Though reluctant to further discuss, he answered my direct question with a direct answer.

“Well, first we are deciding how many will remain in Greensboro regardless. Several will wish to stay, performing the guard duty to which we were called.”

I chuckled, trying to make light of what I realized was a difficult subject. “You mean prancing about on horses? Marching to various local events to lend a certain stamp of formality? Shining your boots, polishing your belt buckles, brushing the lint off your uniforms?”

His cheeks reddened almost to the color of his russet hair. “Mother, this is a serious matter. Some of these fools are itching to see new territory, marching gloriously for the misbegotten cause of secession. You would think they could wait until the other states decide to secede.”

It is hard to imagine real conflict. That any might be drawn into a war is too painful to bear, and so I had tried to laugh it away. Now, seeing the earnestness in my son’s eyes, I felt a pang of guilt.

“Rufus,” I began, but he was not finished.

“Mother, the secessionists are not just talking anymore. They are organizing. The election is only weeks away, and if Lincoln wins, there will be real consequences. We need to be prepared.”

Mattie took her napkin and laid it on the table before speaking. I could tell she was tempering her words. “I recently received a letter from my brother, Will. He tells me his Academy students are excited over the prospects.”

The prospects. She meant the prospects of war, of secession, of a divided nation. The room grew heavier with each word, the air thick with unspoken fears and loyalties.

John broke off his reverie, finally joining in the discussion. “Interesting. Is he trying to calm them and keep them to their studies, or is he joining in their excitement?”

All eyes turned to Mattie, who sat up straighter, her usual confidence now tinged with uncertainty. “Will is torn. As an educator, he knows the importance of learning, but as a Southern man, he understands their fervor. He believes in the cause, but he also knows the cost.”

Mattie comes from a staunchly Southern family, and her loyalties are clear, yet she married into our more moderate clan. How does she reconcile the two?

Rufus leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “The cost is something none of them truly grasp yet. It is easy to be excited when the cannons are silent.”

If war comes, how would we manage the factory and the lives intertwined with ours?

“Have you considered what you will do, Rufus?” I asked, though I feared the answer. “Will you stay here, or...?”

He uncrossed his arms and looked at me, steadfast and unyielding. “I will perform my duty locally, whatever that may be.”

Silence settled over us. Duty. It was a word that carried so much weight. John cleared his throat, breaking the spell. “He is right. These are serious times. We need to be clear-headed about what lies ahead.”

Mattie took Rufus’ hand. Whatever their personal beliefs and fears, they are a team, a partnership. I hope we rediscover that same balance.