Fifty-Three
It
Begins, Again...
29
June 1824 (evening)
I
had to stop my earlier entry. My hand
was aching, and I needed more ink and another quill. Charlotte Nan ,
as she perhaps has heard through Joseph what has happened.
And
now it is that I have a difficult story to tell.
First,
as to what Father told me.
It
was short. I do not know to what purpose
Father had in mind for telling me after all of these years. Maybe he thought he was going to die and he
did not want to go to his grave without the telling. But he has told me, and he is still alive,
and to my knowledge, no one else knows this.
This is what I told John, and now to you, my journal, my friend.
John
leaned in, for now I was speaking quietly, and as we were next to the river, it
was hard to be heard.
Father
said, quite simply, Susie is your half-sister.
I am her father.
This
is when I started to cry softly. I told John
how ever since then, I have been working this out in my head. How Father has known all these years. How it is he has never told Mother. How it is that he has always had Susie with
him, and how, at least fourteen years ago, he was capable of great cruelty
toward her.
I
told John that I know that it is not unheard of for mulatto children to be born
and that the obvious implication is that one of the white male members of the
family or their overseers would have done something untoward. I also know that sometimes, the mother of
these mulatto children are loved by the father, and that sometimes the father
provides for the children and treats all with kindness.
I
have told him that I have also tried to figure out who Susie's mother was, and
that I probably know, but am not sure, as Susie was born before I was, by
several years.
But
what angers me is that Father was treating Susie in the way that he was, in
front of four young children and their mother, and that SHE WAS HIS
DAUGHTER. This was something that I
could not understand.
I
told John of the years of paying no particular mind to Susie. That I thought of her kindly, when I thought
of her at all, and that I did not think of her most of the time.
I
told John that I did not know if Father ever told Susie.
I
fell silent at this point, quiet tears spilling, not knowing what to do with my
grief. For what else that remained to
tell John was reprehensible.
John
pulled me to him, and he stroked my hair, and said, I am so sorry, Louisa, so
sorry.
We
sat for what seemed to be a long time before I started again, my tears having
subsided.
And
now, for what TJ told me, the day he left and said he would never speak to
Father again.
TJ
said that he and Warner and Daniel were forced to live with Father. He said that Father was often drunk. That Warner and Daniel usually stayed away
from home as much as they could, and that Father did not seem to care. He said that Father was often very kind to
him, giving him special treatment such as taking him to horse races, and
fishing, and riding about their fields, as Father was permitted to keep all of
his property in order to earn a living to provide the alimony.
He
said that even when drunk, Father usually just came home and slept it off.
But
he said that when he, TJ, turned 14, Father had summonsed him to his bedroom,
for he said he had a birthday surprise.
And
that Father had Susie there, naked, in his bed.
And that Father also had another man there whom TJ did not know. And that Father disrobed and said, son, I
want to show you how it is to be with a woman. And that Father proceeded to do that which
I cannot speak of (nor write of now).
And
he said that the other man did the same as what father did.
And
that Father then told TJ that he was to do the same, and that TJ did not want
to, but that Father forced him to try, but TJ could not. That he then forced Susie to do things that I
also cannot speak about, and that TJ could not speak to me about, but I believe
I understand what kind of things.
This
is when I stopped, because the tears came in torrents, but they were angry
tears, tears for the loss of innocence of my brother. Tears for Susie, especially Susie. Tears for the knowledge that this is what
Father knowingly did to his own daughter.
Tears of disgust. Tears for TJ
that he has spent all these years with Father and never said a word before
now. Tears of....hatred.
I
cannot forgive him, John, I said, my rage building inside me. For how can God ever want me to forgive
him? How can anyone ever want TJ to
forgive him?
And
what about Mother? Is it not possible
she has known all of this time and never said anything because it is something
that she does not find reprehensible?
That perhaps the only reprehensible things that Father has done have
been what he has done to her when they were fighting? How can she be friendly with him? And is it possible that she has been with
Father all these years, but only seeming not to be in order to please her more
powerful brother?
I
do not understand, John. I do not
understand.
By
this time, I was standing and shaking all over.
I could not stop the shaking.
The
look on John's face had changed. He was
still trying to be compassionate toward me, but there was something different,
he looked... I don't know how to describe it, because I have never seen John
like that.
John
said to me, let's get you to the house (meaning Warner's house). And he walked with me, slowly, to
Warner's.
I
did not know what to make of John. I
believe that he was quite angry and that he was trying to control it.
John
took a deep breath. And another
one. And he asked how was I doing, for
this must have been the worst thing to ever tell anyone. He thanked me for trusting him.
He
did not ask me to trust in the Lord.
John
stayed with me until I told him that I was exhausted and wanted to lay
down. John said that he would leave only
upon my promise that I go lie down and try to sleep. He said that he would check on me again the
next day.
The
next day was yesterday.
I
am worried. I am sickened. I do not know what to do.
Whew! Father seems to done much worse than I had imagined!
ReplyDeleteAgain I say, write fast!!!!