New Yesterdays by Jim L Wright - HTML preview

Chapter 9

The young Irishman worked like a man possessed through the winter of 1810. The young men of the village pitched in and helped him as their own duties allowed. By the time Christmas came round, Seamus had the house place completely cleared and was making great progress on the fields. Nearly five acres had been cut and the stumps cleared. He hoped to have another ten acres ready for planting when spring came. The trees had been neatly stacked near the spot he intended to build his house. He would square them off with an adze in preparation for raising the walls. In the evenings as he sat with Wesa and the other men talking and smoking before the fire he carved the pegs he would need for joining the timbers. One night, as they sat before the fire, Wesa noticed a small smile that never seemed to leave Seamus' face. "What is in your mind, my friend that causes you to smile without stopping?" After the briefest of reflection, Seamus smiled broadly at the Chief and observed "I have never in my life felt so happy and safe! Soon I will have my own home and hearth that will be a fitting place to bring a wife and raise a fine family." Wesa and the other men gathered that evening nodded silently. Each of them once again approved their choice of asking the Irishman to make his life here.

Seamus met his wife on a selling trip to New Orleans in 1816. It was his first time to leave the farm he had so lovingly carved out of the Cherokee land. He could just as easily have used the services of an agent to sell his cotton, but he wanted to see a city. He had heard many stories about New Orleans from traders passing through the area.

Bridgette O'Sullivan could not, by any stretch be considered beautiful. However, her wide, plain face smiled easily and her warm brown eyes seemed to invite friendship. She was a handsome, no-nonsense woman. Her brother was an accountant in the firm that bought Seamus’ cotton. By coincidence, she brought a lunch basket to him while the two men were going over the numbers and settling the accounts. From the moment he set eyes on her, Seamus was sure he had met the woman who would be his wife. Her brother, Christopher introduced them. The twinkle in her eyes and ready smile undid him completely. He couldn’t get her out of his mind. After exchanging pleasantries, Bridgette glided out of the office on a cloud of the most beautiful scent Seamus had ever inhaled. He begged Christopher to allow him to call on her.

Christopher laughed good-naturedly and invited him to come to lunch at their house in the Garden District on Sunday. Two days! Seamus was sure he’d be completely mad in that time, but did everything he could think of to keep his mind occupied. No matter how he tried though, his thoughts returned to the beautiful Bridgette O’Sullivan.

After taking lunch with the O’Sullivans, Seamus spent every free moment courting Bridgette. He reached the age when he should take a wife and she was on the cusp of becoming an “old maid”. Ten days after they were introduced Seamus asked her to be his wife. Two days later they were married at St Louis Cathedral in Jackson Square. The couple was delirious as they boarded the stage coach that would take them home to Alabama.

Bridie’s house was immaculately clean and well ordered. She enjoyed life with her husband, but she missed the company of other white women. Their farm abutted the Cherokee village and they were the only white family within a day’s ride, so her only interactions were with the Indian women. She considered them great friends and genuinely enjoyed the company, but they didn’t understand the intricacies of keeping a European style house. They were quite content with their dirt floors and wattle and daub walls and thatched roofs. She secretly despised that lifestyle and longed for the neat orderly streets of the Garden District in New Orleans. She missed the sea, too and the beautiful food. Here she had to content herself with corn, squash, beans and whatever meat her husband killed and brought home.

Seamus loved Bridie passionately and without limit. His adoration and dedication to her was complete. At the age of twenty-two he felt that his life was perfect. He had a farm, a house built by his own two hands and a wife he considered beautiful to share it all with. In short, he felt complete. He hoped with every fiber of his being that she would come to love the place as much as he did. He knew she missed New Orleans. Who wouldn't? The Crescent City was a magical place filled with exotic people, strange customs and intoxicating foods. Life here in Alabama was dull by comparison, but Seamus was completely fulfilled. He prayed that one day Bridie would come to feel the same.

There were days when the tinkling laughter of his wife convinced him that she was adjusting, learning to love her home. Certainly, she kept the house as neat as a new pin and was inventive with the foods she had access to. Her meals were hearty, filling and delicious. But on other days he would return home from the fields to find her in a deep melancholy.

Three years had passed since Seamus and Bridgette were married. The crops were in and the cotton was ready for shipment to New Orleans. All summer as he worked, Seamus had been planning a surprise for his dutiful wife. They would accompany the cotton crop to New Orleans. They would spend a few weeks enjoying everything the city had to offer. He had arranged rooms at a tiny inn in the Vieux Carré. The inn was hidden from view behind a high wall with a central courtyard that was dominated by a giant old water oak. He had stayed in the inn on his previous trip to New Orleans when he had met Bridie for the first time. He was so excited at the prospect of taking his companion back to her hometown he had great difficulty keeping the secret from her. Today the secret would be revealed and he couldn’t wait to see her brighten up when she received the news!

Just lately Bridie seemed to be having trouble coming out of her periodic melancholy state. She performed her duties inside the house in a purely mechanical way, with no spirit. The meals she prepared were hearty and filling, but lacked the usual flair and imagination. Seamus had become quite worried about her and decided a change of scenery might be just the thing to bring her back to herself. This morning, he had insisted that she stay in bed for a while. He could get his own breakfast and she could get some rest after the long, restless night she’d had.

As he ate a quick breakfast of grits and greens he made his decision. When he was back from the fields today, he would give Bridie the good news. She could begin packing her trunks right away and they’d be off to New Orleans in three days’ time. The visions of her smile as she prepared for the journey kept Seamus happy the entire day.

Bridie adored her husband. He provided her with a very comfortable home and was more attentive than she ever imagined a man could be. They spent long evenings together in front of the fireplace, Seamus reading to her. Occasionally she read to him as well, but she loved the sound of his voice. When he read to her his voice was like the gentle flow of the water over smooth stones in the creek. She closed her eyes as she listened and was transported to meadows of lush green grass and the smells of wildflowers on the air. Just being with him made Bridie the happiest woman in the world. It was the long daylight hours when Seamus was in the fields or hunting that were often a living hell for her.

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