The next morning…

All was quiet in their corner of the world until late morning.

Hannah, one of the Williams’s girls burst into the study where Eleanor was already making contingency plans.

“Ma’am! There are soldiers!” Hannah gasped.

“Ours?” Eleanor asked, but she could already tell from the fear in the girl’s eyes.

“No Ma’am… They’re the Union…” Hannah said.

Eleanor stood up. Her mind was racing.

“And ma’am?” Hannah squeaked, “T-they’re… niggers!”

The corners of Eleanor’s lips curled into a slight smile. “Tell the others to hold their fire. I’ll go out to meet them,” she said.

Eleanor marched out of her study and felt all eyes weighing on her. She walked up to the front window and peeked out between the plank boards.

Sure enough, the courtyard was swarming with men in dark blue uniforms. And true to Hannah’s astuteness, they were all black as coal without exception.

None of the black Union soldiers were approaching the manor. They busied themselves erecting tents and unloading wagons, obviously intending to make themselves at home for the time being.

Eleanor backed away from the window and promptly headed out the front door.

A young, black, union soldier closest to the manor’s entrance spotted Eleanor stepping out of the house and immediately ran off towards his peers.

“Captain!!! Captain!!!” The soldier yelled as he ran.

Eleanor stood before her courtyard, waiting. Her heart pounded in her chest, nearly drowning out the din of an entire company of soldiers before her.

A tall, strapping, imposing black man in a wide-brimmed hat who casually wore an officer’s jacket appeared from the crowd of soldiers.

Eleanor recognized the handsome, chiseled, ebony face right away. Her smile now fully betrayed her stoic demeanor.

The tall black man stepped up to Eleanor, towering over her.

“You’re late, Samuel,” Eleanor said.

Samuel Godfree smiled. “Apologies Missus. I had orders to pacify some riots in the vicinity.”

Eleanor sighed. “No, I’m relieved. Thank god you’re safe.”

Samuel glanced at the bright colored eyes peering out of the manor’s boarded up windows. “Anyone givin you trouble?” he asked.

“Not yet,” replied Eleanor.

“Anyone inside planning to give us trouble?”

Eleanor glanced back over her shoulder at the house. “I’ll get them to stand down… That is, if you keep your men under control.”

“My boys are gentlemen ma’am,” Samuel replied. “Thought them courtesy, just like you thought me.”

Eleanor nodded. “Give me a moment,” she said.

Eleanor returned into the house and was immediately surrounded by **** faces. “Alright y’all. Here’s the deal,” she said, “Put down your weapons. We’re surrendering.”

There were several gasps of protests, particularly from the young men.

“We can’t!” One boy said, “They’ll kill us.”

“They have enough rifles to turn this house into swiss cheese is they so please. If killing us be what they wanted, it would already be done. I think they can be reasoned with,” replied Eleanor.

“We should hold out as long as we can,” said another young man, “My daddy’s comin.”

“The army is retreating and regrouping to Savannah,” Eleanor replied, “Trust me. My daddy is a Colonel, and my granddaddy was a General. It’s the most prudent move on their part. So believe me when I say, they ain’t coming back any time soon. We’re on our own.”

There were a few more protests and raised concerns, but ultimately, Eleanor’s calm rationale won the day. Everyone tossed their rifles in a pile in a corner of the room and trooped out of the manor.

The white folk gathered in the shade of the house outside while they watched union soldiers enter the house to secure it.

“My god, that’s him!” Alvin stammered, “That’s Samuel Godfree!”

Eleanor remained quiet, her eyes fixed on the strapping young black officer as he went about directing his company of men.

“Who is he?” Austin, the youngest boy asked.

Alvin clenched his jaw. “He’s that nigger who is all over the northern propaganda newspapers. He was an escaped **** who went north and rallied other niggers to come down here and fight us.”

Eleanor cleared her throat. “He was one of ours. Surely you remember that, my boy.”

Austin glanced at Eleanor with surprise while Alvin shifted his feet uncomfortably.

“One of ours?” Austin asked. “He’s from over here?”

Eleanor nodded. “Born in those very shacks at the edge of the western plantation. He’s younger than Alvin by one year. Used to run around together when they were wee, all the time.”

Austin stared at Samuel in the distance in disbelief. “He looks nothing like brother,” Austin said, “You telling me that nigger is only 19 years old, mama?”

“Well, he’s been fighting and surviving since escaping these parts since he was 15,” Eleanor replied. “War makes you grow up quickly.”

What Eleanor neglected to mention to her sons was that she had chosen Samuel from childhood for this very purpose. It was part of the League’s agenda to topple the slavery industry by nurturing freedom fighters and leaders among the slaves.

League members everywhere, in their personal capacity, would identify talented black slaves and take them on as apprentices. They would be educated to read, count and write, be proficient in multiple languages, trained to fight and shoot, and groomed to be tactical leaders.

Samuel Godfree was the third and last of Eleanor’s apprentices. The other two, while managing to achieve some good, ultimately lost their lives for the struggle.

Samuel was also undoubtably the most accomplished out of all the apprentices the League had produced. A gunslinger, marksman, and master tactician of nearly mythical proportions, his deeds had become legend throughout the country and he had become the face of the black race’s struggle for freedom.

They say slavers everywhere check under their beds every night with a shotgun to make sure Samuel Godfree wasn’t lying in wait.

Eleanor couldn’t be more proud of her young apprentice. A smile kept trying to creep up the corner of her lips as he watched the black boy she raised and trained take charge of the men around him. He was nothing sort of majestic.

Lately, Eleanor had heard other rumors as well. This one rumor however, was more prevalent among the slaves than the masters. It would seem that Samuel Godfree was a bogeymen to the white man in more ways than one. Slaves would tell tales of how Samuel would charm, seduce, and impregnate white women all over America, especially married women or young daughters of his quarry. Most of his cuckolded victims wouldn’t ever find out until a dark skinned baby popped out between their wives’s or daughters’s thighs.

Now, whenever the slaves get word of another white woman birthing a black baby, they would snigger and say, “Samuel Godfree strikes again!”

“He wouldn’t be angry with us, would he, mama?” Austin asked, moving closer to Eleanor to hold her hand in reassurance. “We never did him dirty, did we?”

Eleanor found herself tracing Samuel’s strapping, muscular form in the distance with her eyes. A strange, almost alien heat was pooling within her lower belly. Almost like an ache.

“Well, boy, if we did…” Eleanor replied, “I’m certain it is within our power to make amends. All god’s creatures are sinners after all. And we are, in the end, just beasts of different color.”