Return to Tinnin. Jasper S. Lee
Pa lamented, "Kind of like preachers around here. You know, a war is going on. If a preacher can't save himself, how can he save the souls of others? He would have been safer if he had stayed here with us until the soldiers passed through. I am sure he was concerned about his family and friends."
And, Ma was also disappointed that she had put so much work into the meal, including the lemon cake that had not been sliced for serving. She had spent Saturday butchering three fine young chickens and hours preparing the meal. Of course, Ellen and others of the older Shepard children had helped some with the collard greens, corn bread, and other fixin's. Unfortunately, they would not see Preacher Hoyle again.
Ma saved the leftover fried chicken in the pie safe over night. Not much there but a neck, back, wing, heart, and half-gizzard. The preacher and the Ratliff and Shepard families had eaten the wishbone, breast pieces, thighs, drumsticks, and the like. Ma had a thought in her mind about hunger among the soldiers, however. She thought they would be hungry and looking for food. That was true with the Confederates who came through a couple of weeks ago. Anyway, since camp cooking wasn't that good, they would especially like to get home cooked food. The lemon cake will make a few really happy.
Preacher Hoyle was an itinerant minister who served at Mason Chapel, a small congregation that pretty well followed beliefs and practices of the Methodist Episcopal Church. The church met in a small frame structure with a couple of privies. It was near the clapboard schoolhouse in the Tinnin community, so the privies were also used by school children and teachers. Just like the Tinnin community, the church congregation was small--not many white folks in the community were brave enough to venture out to church, as a lot of bad stuff was going on due to war and racial tensions. The situation was far more perilous than one preacher could solve. Preacher Hoyle also served a couple of other tiny churches also within a few miles of Clinton. The schoolhouse near Mason Chapel served as a social center in the community.
On his way to Clinton, Preacher Hoyle ran into the company of soldiers (they stormed Clinton before venturing to Tinnin). The soldiers stopped him and looked him over good. They asked if he had money; and, yes, he did from his preaching that morning at Mason Chapel. A Private O'Reilly took his meager earnings and stuffed them into his pocket.
Since the preacher had a fairly good-looking horse, the soldiers decided to keep it and let the preacher go. As the preacher protested that he would have two miles to walk, they pointed guns at him and told him to get going. One soldier was heard to say, "A good horse is far more valuable than an itinerant preacher." One took the preacher's Bible out of the saddlebag and threw it at him; Preacher Hoyle picked it up as it had some sermon notes in it. Because the preacher was not accustomed to such fear and having to walk, his heart pounded so that he fell dead from heart failure. A stranger passing through found his body and alerted a local law official. This did not slow the movement of the soldiers.
At the Shepards, the children were asked to join Pa and Ma and Grandparents Ratliff at the adult table. It was already after 3:00 p.m. because dinner had been delayed until the preacher arrived. His morning sermon had lasted until 1:00 p.m., and then it took a few minutes for him to ride to the Shepard home.
Serious conversation ensued. Pa told the family what the rider had said. The girls cried; the boys were too young to be concerned. Everyone was given a responsibility in preparing for the troops. The Shepards had to protect their limited possessions; the farm hands (slaves) were already about free and not around to help. Overall, life was stressful even without the thought of soldiers coming. Farm work and life had changed so much with the abolition of slavery but it would turn out to be a good change.
Pa continued with the plan that involved hiding things deep in the forest of Shepard Hills, in the attic of the house, and in the ground. The work had to be done before dark that day, with the arrival of the soldiers the next morning. There was some fear that the soldiers would come in the darkness of night, and this was even more scary.
Everyone in the family got involved. Ellen was responsible for the draft animals, which were to be tied in thick brushy hollows in the hills. These included pairs of horses and oxen, along with a mule. She took them to an area filled with small trees, vines, and bushes.
Ellen's sisters Georgia Ann and Sarah were responsible for taking the cured meat (about 150 pounds altogether of hams and bacon sides) from the smokehouse to the attic. Several trips up the ladder were needed. A few small pieces were left in the smokehouse just in case the soldiers demanded some meat. It would be there for their taking. The ladder leading to the attic was cut into pieces and burned in the fireplace, leaving no easy way for the soldiers to get into the attic.
Ellen's sisters Mag and Rachel were responsible for burying the gunpowder in the ground near the stable in a pottery container that would keep it dry. Other small household things were tucked away in places not readily visible. Naomi and James helped with this. Since Ira was only two years old, he wasn't given a responsibility.
Ma Sarah, her mother, and daughters Ellen and Mag quickly cleaned the table and kitchen. Then, Susan and Zachariah departed for their home. It was located in the heart of Tinnin near the Ratliff Store, about a mile away.
Nothing was done to protect the loose chickens, penned pigs, and pastured cows. They would be left vulnerable to the soldiers' whims. But, Naomi, who was six years of age, asked about their dogs, Ritz and Bummer, as well as the barn cats, Oscar and Lucille. Pa said let them stay loose and that "Ritz is the best dog with some training; Bummer turned up as a stray with mange and a bad eye; that makes him kind of mean. It is hard to defend him even though he is a good watchdog, with one eye and all. As for the cats, let them continue their rat patrol of the corn crib. We don't need the rats to get our corn."
Pa had a certain confidence that he could handle the situation with the soldiers. After all, when voting was done to secede from the Union and form the Confederate States of America, Pa had voted the Union ticket. He had moved south from Indiana as a very young man in 1841, searching for opportunity. Many of his values had been shaped by his parents and others in Indiana. Of course, he had several slaves (farm hands) until they were granted their freedom in the early-to-mid 1860s. He lost a small fortune of investment when emancipation occurred. His vote on secession resulted in some people in the community never again trusting him.
He had worked hard to gain his plantation holdings of 1,200 acres (some with government grants from the Choctaw cessation). In 1857, he had built a large home for his family. Various outbuildings supported his family and plantation life. He did not want his property taken or destroyed. He wanted a good future. The future was looking promising until the U.S. Civil War began. The farm was almost in a direct line between Jackson and Vicksburg--a major route for delivery of farm products to the promising foreign markets by way of Vicksburg and its connections to ports in various countries, particularly in Europe.
Easter Sunday night, no one slept well (except baby Ira, who was still breast-fed at age 2). Through the night, there was always a listening ear for the sounds of soldiers. The sun began to rise over Shepard Hills on the Monday after Easter. No sign of soldiers yet. Morning chores were to be done--milk the two cows (Ellen's responsibility) and gather any eggs that were laid early (Mag's responsibility). After chores, everyone was to come into the house. Of course, the sighting of any soldier in the distance was plenty reason to immediately come inside.
Overnight, the remaining farm hands (only a few were still there) and their families disappeared. Where did they go? They didn't tell George or anyone. Some might have been aided by advance men of the Union troops sneaking around before their arrival at the farm. On previous occasions, a few farm hands would return after the troops had moved on. Pa was not harsh on them. He tried to put himself in their places. Everyday life was so chaotic. Whether anyone would be available for producing crops that year was unknown. War had destroyed so much...so little had been gained at this point. Life was hard for everyone.
No one knew if or when the soldiers would arrive. Pa Shepard did not know that they had camped less than two miles away on a hillside just south of a place called Kickapoo. This meant that it wouldn't take long for the soldiers to go down the dirt trail through Shepard Hills to the home. That morning, they broke camp