the New Year come in.
A few days later I began to notice that Ma seemed to have an itch she couldn’t scratch. I mentioned it to Henry.
“It’s Ella Mae,” he said. “Your ma doesn’t think very much of her. She’s pretty sure that you have a case on her and doesn’t see any good coming of it.”
Of course he was right. I just didn’t want to see it at the time.
I said, “What can we do? Maybe we should look for a place for Ella Mae to stay. I know of an old house across the river that nobody lives in.”
Henry replied, “That’s what has to happen. You ought to bring it up at supper tonight. Don’t leave it to your ma.”
That night when supper was almost over, I said, “Ella Mae, I think we should start looking for you a house tomorrow.”
Everybody got quiet around the table for the better part of a minute.
Ella Mae finally replied, “Yes. I guess I should start tomorrow. Maybe you’ll help me.”
Seeing the silver lining in that, even though it hadn’t been the purpose, I said, “Okay. I know a couple of places.”
Ma didn’t say anything, which was a clear message that Henry had been right.
As we were leaving the next morning, Ella Mae riding Henry’s mare, I said to Ma, “We’re going across the river to see a house that’s abandoned, and then on to Fort White if we don’t find anything usable. We could be gone a couple of days.”
Ma just looked at me and nodded. Mary and Coon didn’t react at all, or offer to go. I found out a few days later that Ella Mae had told them not to.
After crossing the river we looked at the abandoned house. Though it was as good as her place outside Blountstown, and that’s not saying much, Ella Mae wasn’t happy with it. We then rode to Fort White. Arriving as dark closed in, we pitched a shelter and spent the night.
Not finding anything usable near Fort White, we headed west toward Branford the next day. At Branford, I went in a store to ask about houses while Ella Mae stayed outside with the horses. When I came out she was laughing and talking with a stranger. He turned out to be a drummer. She was also holding her bag in which she carried extra clothes.
Ella Mae said, “Ben, I’m going downriver with this man. I want you to ask your ma to keep Mary for awhile. Thanks for your help.” And they walked off.
In a daze, I’m not sure how I spent the next couple of hours. But I didn’t beg her or shoot him. The last time I saw Ella Mae she was wearing her blue dress while headed downriver on a barge with the drummer.
Delaying a little, I made sure it was dark when I got home. Ma didn’t say anything, or even smile, when I told about Ella Mae. I guess she’s the smartest ma in the world.
A couple of days later Henry said he wanted to talk to Ma, Lilly, and me out at the barn. He started by saying, “Your ma already knows I have $40,000 in Confederate paper money. I want both of you to know, and to know where it is. It was in one of the bags I left under the hay. I kept out $20,000 and buried the other $20,000 in four jars, $5,000 in each corner of the barn. There’s loose hay scattered over the spots.”
The next thing that entered my mind was that we couldn’t have driven Ella Mae off with a stick if she had known about the money. It came to me later that might have been the reason Henry didn’t said anything about the money before she left. He was giving Ella Mae enough time to show her true nature and me time to come to my senses.
Curiosity getting the best of me, I asked, “Where did you get the money?”
He replied, “It came with the dun and the Remington revolvers. It won’t be asked about, at least not related to us. Some men in Taylor County who wanted to take my horses had it. Though they can’t talk about it anymore, they got it illegal and wouldn’t say anything to anyone even if they could. We need to be careful not to cause suspicion by spending too much at one time or place. I’m going to spend my time during the war trying to trade Confederate paper money for specie. The Yankees will win the war, or at best the South will end it in a draw. In either case Confederate paper money won’t be worth as much as silver or gold. After seeing what happened at Cedar Key, and what was going on at Pensacola, I don’t see how the CSA can win if the war lasts very long.”
The value of a Confederate dollar having fallen to seventy-five cents in coin, forty thousand in Confederate money was then worth $30,000 in gold or silver. Still, there was more money than I had ever thought about. This was something we never told Coon until much later. But I’m getting ahead of the story.
January 12, 1862
Following the river upstream, we crossed at Branford. There Henry traded the dray and some Confederate money for a four-seated buggy. From Branford we headed for Henry’s Aunt May’s house. Lilly, Henry, Coon and I were on horseback. Ma and the kids were riding in the buggy. Only thirty miles as the crow flies, it was over forty miles the way we had to go with the buggy. After camping overnight, we arrived the next afternoon. Doctor Isaac, Miss Daisy, and Henry’s ma had arrived two days before.
Aunt May had six children. Her husband, John, and their oldest boy, Bud, had gone to Georgia and enlisted. That was where they lived before moving to Florida. The five kids at home ranged from fifteen years old down to eight.
With four rooms downstairs, two upstairs, an attic, and a big kitchen that was separated from the house, John and May’s house was big. They didn’t own much property though, only eighty acres, just what the family could tend with some left in timber and pasture. John’s family didn’t hold with owning slaves. Most of the folks we knew didn’t own slaves.
Though theirs was a small place, and they were not wealthy, there was a pantry full of food. Twenty jars of strawberry preserves were among the rows of various kinds of food in jars. Aunt May’s strawberry preserves were the best I’ve ever eaten. She also had sweet potatoes, cured pork shoulders, hams, and sausage. The talking and eating went on all afternoon and most of the night.
At some point, Aunt May asked, “How long can you all stay?”
Henry replied, “I was planning to stay until you ran out of strawberry preserves.”
Aunt May flustered around proud as a peacock after that.
The next day Doctor Isaac sat Henry and me down to talk. Everybody was there listening, except for a couple of the women who were out in the kitchen cooking.
“Boys, you did a good job on Mary’s tonsils. Have you read the whole book?”
“Yes, sir,” I said. “I’ve read the whole thing three times and Henry reads more than me. We talk about it every day, each of us saying what we think it means.”
Doctor Isaac was amazed.
He then started asking Henry and me questions, any of which either of us could answer.
Toward the end of the questioning, he said, “It looks like I’ve got two people ready to work with a physician. Henry, why don’t you come to Cedar Key and intern with me for a couple of years. I can get someone in Gainesville or Archer to take Ben on. Most of the younger doctors are gone to war. It’s just terrible.”
It didn’t take Henry or me long to say yes. Henry also said, “I’ll have to stay and help Aunt May with the farm for a couple of weeks. She’s still struggling to get the cane ground and syrup made. There are also the strawberries and greens to gather every day and get to the train station. I was going to ask Ben’s family to stay a few days and help.”
Ma was standing there, proud of me going to be a doctor, and said, “We’ll stay as long as needed. I’ll go to the kitchen and talk with May about it.”
The next morning found us in the field picking strawberries