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Four

  Captain Clement’s 21 January 1831 I am concerned I rarely feel the baby move within me. He or she must sleep a lot. Hopefully, this is not an indication that anything is wrong. Perhaps it is instead indicative of the fact I, too, slumber excessively. As a result, I am losing the desire to journal often. Maybe I can do longer entries when I have the strength and not worry about the frequency. John visited our place in Perry County yesterday, leaving early morning but returning just before supper. He plans to check on our property once a week or so. He seems to enjoy staying here with me in Greensborough, so much so it feels as though we have moved here permanently. We are within a hundred yards of his shops (blacksmith and carpentry) and remaining here at night allows him to always be available if need be. John says the boys are being well cared-for. Mother told him, however, that she is concerned about how listless Sam is. He is running a fever and wants to sleep a lot. Out of co...
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Three

Clement’s Hotel 15 January 1831   Black Judith brings me the weekly paper after one person or another leaves it in the parlor or in the dining room. This morning’s paper [name of paper] contained a Letter to the Editor railing about the laxity of the Town Constable in failing to prevent illegal horse-racing on the main thoroughfare and beyond. I am certainly in agreement, although I am too new to Greensborough to know what attempts, if any, the Constable has made. I remain doubtful of the civility of this town, but it is gratifying to know someone is literate and conscientious enough to make the complaint. Poor lad, but my sympathies truly lie with the mother. I well remember the heartache attached to a child’s unexpected death. This afternoon, I walked to my husband’s place of business. Last time I was there, he had a simple sign saying “Blacksmith.” I noticed this time that John added to his sign, “John LeBois, Proprietor.” There was a small sign to the side says, “Horseshoes, Wa...
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Two

  Clement’s Hotel 11 January 1831   My journal is private. Sacrosanct. Those around me understand no one else is to touch, much less read it. Years ago, my brother Daniel broke my trust concerning my writings, but he is not near and may not be alive. But I learned enough to have a journal which locks. Now I must take the extraordinary step of hiding it. Susie’s well-being depends on this. She risked everything just by appearing to me. She stayed only a moment, long enough for me to know she is currently nearby. As a runaway slave, her life is great danger. Her former master—my father—is now dead, and I am not entirely sure what my mother would do if they caught Susie. More likely, a slaver would return her to bondage to the highest bidder. Susie took pains to ensure I understood the risks she took to see me. Questions swirl about in my mind. Where has she been these past seven years? What kind of life has she led? What brought her to Greensborough? How did she find me? What al...
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1

    Oh my, oh my! On the street below my window here in Greensborough, Alabama, I just witnessed a horse race where one of the young men was askew on his saddle. The animal surely threw him off down the street, as I heard shouts for a doctor! Goodness me, is this the sort of thing I shall experience on a daily basis? If so, I shall discontinue viewing the comings and goings on the main thoroughfare. Instead, I shall request rooms overlooking the hotel’s garden in the rear. Yet, I cannot bring myself to look away. A blue-capped lad scurried into the doctor’s office across the street but declared the physician absent. Off he went, seeking a different one. I hope the boy will survive any wounds, and that all will learn a lesson. I understand horse-racing is a common, though presently illegal, entertainment. This village is not without some excitement, but not the kind I desire. I can see two saloons from my window with ruffians entering and some leaving, escorted out by the ear. ...
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