1861

The June heat is nauseating in the depth of this cotton field as the men hoe and rake the hard ground during the long afternoon. The sun is ever watching, hanging over head searing and burning the workers as they hustle and bustle. Even before the sun broke light over the horizon these slaves were awake and quickly scurried out of their shabby barracks and not given a chance to return until the sunshine retired for the day. Some men are young and some are old, some men are still nervous and scared some are not, most men have lost all fire and defiant position, but there is still at least one. Mathew Brodus is a 28 year old slave that has the same intensity and drive as a freshly caught lion. His father is the blacksmith that tends to all the tools and shoes for the horses, he is a very cautious man that would rather slowly calculate options then act rashly out of emotion. He warns his son to cool his heels and try his best to not stand out or rock the boat. Mathew has been a constant ire for his owner and the white men that whip and beat the slaves to keep them docile. Even as a young teenager he questioned the enforcers out in the fields and was continually beaten, even one such occasion that was near fatal. However, his master was not so quick to sell him or execute him for his work ethic rivaled men that were much more stout than he was. He had always possessed great strength and agility, both physically and mentally. His father's warnings and cautions lost a lot of meaning to him once he reached adulthood.

Mathew's rashness and hot temper increased more last year when they learned of the failed attack of John Brown's forces at an armory in Virginia. It incited great shame and anger in him that a white man was willing to fight to free him and his people. He pleaded desperately with his father at the time to join and fight, but as always his father cautioned patience, that the time wasn't right yet.

"Father we must act now!" Mathew had pleaded with his father, clenching his fist tight. "How can we sit back and let white men fight for our freedom, and how do we even deserve freedom if we don't fight for it ourselves?"

"The time is not yet right my son." he responded. "I know you want to fight and be free, you have a lot more of your mother in you than I want to admit, but if we act rashly, we will fail."

He recalled that conversation vividly, how confident his father was at the time was enough to quell the impulse to go on a vengeful killing spree of these vile men that held him captive. He knew it was more psychological then physical in keeping them obedient. Even as a teenager he could see that they severely outnumbered their masters 30 to 1. He was sure they remained pacifistic and non-violent out of fear, either for being sold or beaten or killed, but would recover their fire if they had a leader that showed them how. Every Sunday evening they were allowed to stop work before the sun had set for religious purposes. The master was an old man that looked down on these black men and women but believed even these heathens deserved to learn about Christ. So they met inside the larger barracks and prayed and recited versus from the bible. Mathew's mother had taught him to read before she passed of illness when he was eleven. He had taught others to read since then and was definitely loved by his people there, for everything he did. He would often take beatings he didn't deserve because he could withstand it when another couldn't. He used the first hour to chant and sing and pray until the lurking overseers lost interest in spying on them and then he would conduct other business.

"Amen. Amen indeed. Let us continue our other discussion from last Sunday." Mathew had exclaimed. "We know we outnumber them here at this plantation, and thanks to my father's weapons he has been able to construct and hide over the last six months, we are definitely able to free ourselves from this imprisonment, but the time is not right."

"Yes my son." His father replied. "There has been some serious events that have recently taken place and we need to make sure our timing is as accurate as it can be."

They talked about the recent secession of the southern slave states after a man named Abraham Lincoln was elected president and even though he wasn't for outlawing slavery he supported not expanding into new territories which was headed in the right direction. Slave states felt threatened by his election and didn't want to be told what they couldn't do in their own states. They had begun recruiting since February when their army was formulated and given the ability and right, as they saw it, to defend their states and ideals. Being on the border with the Union state of Kentucky they were likely able to free themselves and make a run for the border but recent Tennessee army movements had made previous dates unsuitable. However, they had just learned a majority of the army was moving far to the East and wouldn't be able to interfere with their plan. Mathew had told all the men, women, and children present that their own freedom was only the first step and that they would lead a caravan through nearing plantations to liberate the slaves there. They had many contacts in the major slave run fields around and carefully developed signals and keywords for warnings and opportunities. Mathew respected his father and owed him a great debt for the knowledge he had given him. His father was once owned by a former soldier in the Revolutionary war with Great Britain and quite often rambled on about troop formation, training techniques, and even guerrilla tactics employed by the Native Americans. His father was strong, stronger than he looked but when Mathew was in his early 20's his father had told him it was his destiny to lead and free his people, that he would give him the tools and knowledge to do so. They talked about striking tomorrow after the small meal break they were given when their master retired to his bedroom for a long nap and left his henchman to keep order. They discussed the need to move from plantation to plantation at night to reduce their chances of being caught and had several escaped slaves serving as scouts for efficient routes.

"Tomorrow we take our freedom that was given to us rightfully at birth. We will cross into Kentucky with as many people as we can free and help the Union fight to secure our freedom." Mathew had ended the meeting with those carefully chosen words he thought would inspire and turn some of the less courageous men into fierce warriors.

The morning sun broke the top of the tree tops and flooded their barracks and the connected fields they would toil in one more time. Mathew was already awake and going over last minute calculations and hesitations with his father. He used to think his father was too timid or scared to be a fighter, but as he got older he realized his father was the smartest slave in the South carefully planning and waiting for the right moment, and soon that time would be at hand. They hurried out of their living quarters with the sixty other slave men that headed for the fields, about twenty slave women headed towards the house to begin processing and organizing the raw materials from the day before. Some women, that were visually appealing and clean, climbed the steps and went into the kitchen to help with the cooking and chores of this big house. The house contained a dozen bedroom with a very elaborate patio that wrapped around almost the whole house allowing a gap that would make the slave quarters visible. The owner was a fragile man in his late 70's with only one son and no other children to speak of. His wife hated his constant sexual relationships with the female slaves and hung herself twenty years prior. His son, Timothy Smith, was a smug self entitled man that never worked for anything his whole life and was able to marry a very gorgeous woman that was the daughter of an ex governor. The marriage to her allowed them to purchase nearby lands and increase the number of slaves they owned exponentially. Timothy employed some roughnecks from around town to keep his slaves in order. He didn't enjoy watching the beatings but understood it was a part of the business and didn't lose any sleep over it. He was in his early thirties and was still unable to have any kids with his wife, which they both wanted since it would allow them to move out into a home of their own.

Larry smelled of booze and stink as he barked orders at the scurrying black men fleeing from their resting places. He cussed and smacked any that came within reach of him with his wooden handle that was probably to a broken shovel or hoe. Larry was an especially mean man that enjoyed and even looked forward to beating and breaking the necks and backs of these human machines. He staggered around, continuing to beat and cuss, looking for his favorite punching bag, Mathew. Having slipped past Larry and his beating stick, Mathew was able to make it deep into the field to begin his daily work. It had been several hours before Larry found him and screamed and yelled trying to provoke any sign of contempt that used to be so easy. He relished in making this one lose his temper justifying a serious beating, even the one that almost claimed his life. Mathew kept his head down and let the spit, stench and ravage blows to wash right over him as if he was waist deep in a calm pond. He had a glimmer in his eyes of happiness and pride and kept to his work with his head down so Larry would not see. After a half hour of poking and prodding Larry had lost interest and wandered off to pick on someone that would satisfy his sick twisted hunger. After a few hours more, the lunch bell had rung and Mathew trotted off the field knowing that no matter what it would be the last time he would have to do so.

Mathew helped pass out the bread, which enabled him to give last minute orders and assess the readiness of his men. Having never served the army or being anything other than a slave his whole life, Mathew took great pride in leading other men and often thought of serving in the army had his fate been different. After he finishes visiting with his most trusted men he brings a bowl of soup and a piece of bread over to his father's blacksmith hut. He doesn't speak but his eyes ask his father if the time is right, his father nods and Mathew sprints behind the shack and uncovers several dozen crude swords and maces his father had made. He chirps out in a coo sound alerting everyone that the insurrection was about to begin. Dozens of men come single file to grab their given weapon and they stand still and ready as Mathew grabs the last weapon, a wooden handle that held a ball of misshapen iron with crude studs attached to it.

The six men assigned with keeping the slaves in order, with their whips and rifles, are circling a young teenage slave girl at the bottom of the steps leading to the back door. They grab at her and call her demeaning names knocking the basket out of her hands forcing her down to the ground to pick up the food waste from the kitchen. They all laugh and enjoy themselves at the expense of this poor girl. They are completely lost in their tormenting and are unprepared as one of their heads gets hit with a makeshift mace wielded by Mathew, there is a clunk sound, preceding the bone crunch, and the life leaves his face as blood sprays out and the body slumps to the ground. Mathew is screaming a battle cry as the other five men reach for their whips or weapons only to be swarmed by the dozen men behind him. Chaos erupts and screaming ensues from slaves either not privy to this plan or emotionally unable to grasp what is taking place. Timothy drops his tea cup after watching a man get bludgeoned from behind and scrambles around the patio into his house. He quickly bounds the stairs and kicks in his father's door, at this point he is out of bed and clearly startled.

"The slaves they are attacking!" Timothy screams as his voice breaks in obvious fear.

His father points to his glass gun stand with his rifles and ammo arranged neatly for display. These guns have been used extensively by both father and son, knowing any day could be a slave rebellion and since the South recently seceded from the Union they kept plenty of weapons and ammunition. Timothy's wife came screaming up the stairs and ran towards the kicked opened door. Timothy grabs a loaded Remington revolver and steps through the door way, his wife is a few feet from him running full speed with two slaves grabbing at her heels. Just as she reaches her husband Timothy pushes her aside against a wall and fires two shots point blank into the rushing men. They fall backwards and one crashes through the banister and lands dead on the ground floor below. Timothy puts the pistol in his belt and grabs his wife and throws her inside his father's room. She is hysterically crying and mumbling nonsense as the panic takes hold of her. They can hear crashing and banging below, there is even an occasional gunshot ringing out. Timothy grabs a rifle and loads it handing it to his father telling him to keep her safe. He grabs a rifle and hurries out the door, he can see bodies moving around as he makes his way past the dead slave in the hallway and heads down the stairs. He doesn't see anyone immediately near him and calls out for Larry, there is no response so he cautiously works his way towards the kitchen. A slave jumps out at him as he enters the dining room and saving his bullets he crushes the skull of this slave with the butt of his rifle after deftly dodging a swipe with a knife shaped object. He enters the kitchen and a few slaves fill their arms with food, after seeing him they exit and he follows. He takes aim at one throwing the food into his carriage and fires, hitting the man in the head the other slave turns around dropping the food and screams in an attack. Timothy swings the rifle around catching the assailant in the neck knocking him to the ground, he finishes him off with another smack on the forehead. He feels a sharp pain in his right shoulder and turns to see a slave holding a sword that he pierced him with. He strikes out again in a stabbing motion, so Timothy turns his body deflecting the blow and swings all the way around drawing his pistol in the process. At the end of his spin the two are face to face inches away, Timothy places his revolver against the slaves temple and pulls the trigger. The lifeless body lets gravity pull it to the earth where it will remain. Just past this slave are a dozen men armed with clubs and swords they have a blood lust look to them.

"That is enough!" Timothy yells, trying his best to assert his authority. "I have already sent for the nearby militia and expect their arrival imminently. You will recognize your place as slaves and will not attack your owners."

"You own land, crops and cattle. We are free men and we have no owners." Mathew says from the middle of the pack of armed men.

Timothy fires at Mathew in an attempt to quell this rebellion by taking out the apparent leader, knowing full well if you cut the head off of a snake the body will die. Mathew's loyal men collapse the semi-circle and one of the other slaves takes a grazing shot on top of his shoulder. The crazed men charge Timothy and he fires a shot hitting one of them in the head, he fires another shot that is ducked under and aims at Mathew in the back of the group and, click. Timothy flips the pistol around as a club and stands his ground, but he doesn't land a single blow as he is clobbered and sliced over and over with their makeshift weapons. They bathe in the blood of their owner as it sprays out and they take their first breath of freedom. Mathew instructs his men to dispose of the dead bodies but to make sure the dead slaves receive a proper burial. He walks inside and can see a dead slave in the dining room as he hears a commotion upstairs in the master's bedroom. After making his way up the stairs and past the dead body in the hallway he walks into the bedroom. He can see the old man's mangled body as it appears to have been hacked and clubbed repeatedly even after he would have been dead. As he glances over at the bed he can see one slave holding down the late Timothy's wife as the other stands on the side waiting his turn.

"That is enough!" Mathew exclaims.

"Enough for you maybe, but I'm going to get me some of this tasty white meat." The man straddling her on the bed replies. The other man holds his hands up in defeat of Mathew's challenge but the other man continues to grab at the young women tearing off pieces of her dress. She screams and tries to fight back but is completely out-muscled with this bulky 220lb man holding down her tiny frame. She tries to claw at his face and he is mumbling something to her when the man spasms back and staggers off of her and off the bed. He turns around and looks at Mathew and reaches for him but falls to the ground dead with a sword sticking out of his back. She muffles her screams assuming she traded one maniac for another. Mathew gestures to the other man at the side of the bed to tie her up and leave her alone. Making his way outside Mathew finds his father and the majority of the slaves circled around waiting for new orders. After asking how many of their people are dead his father whispers to him five dead and three wounded.

"There are six dead." Mathew says out loud. "I've killed Bryant upstairs after catching him ravaging the young Mrs. Smith. I have said it before and apparently I need to say it again. No women or children are to be harmed. We can easily tie them up and be on our way before they can call for help. We are not animals, we are human beings and we will begin this freedom doing what is right. If anyone wants to leave and follow your own orders do so now, If you will follow me unquestionably, stay."

No one moved a muscle. They would follow Mathew Brodus into hell against any enemy if he deemed it righteous or just. As the sun began to set they took Mrs. Smith outside and tied her loosely to a tree and set the house on fire. The group of men, women, and children all watch for an hour as their master's house burned furiously, ending their slavery and starting their freedom. They made their way through carefully planned routes at night to arrive at the next plantation the next morning and led an attack against the new master before breakfast. They had become more efficient at minimizing their own casualties and with the accumulating firearms were able to quickly dispatch the armed personnel in the houses. Weeks had gone by and Mathew now led a group of 400 people across the Tennessee border into Kentucky, Union territory. They now sought out the Union army so they could end this civil war and free every slave in the country.