Pictured is the Buckley Plantation as it appeared in 1853.
Last week we left off with Pony Joe making plans to travel to the Buckley Plantation, which was located just outside Richmond, Virginia, to buy horses for a Mr. Blythe who lived in Brown County just across the Adams County line. However, there was more on Pony Joe’s mind than just buying horses.
Pony Joe began to make plans and pack for his journey. The new wagon he had purchased a few weeks earlier needed to have some adjustments made before the trip. First, a false bottom had to be made and in such a way that it could not be detected. The boards would need to be saturated with the wonderful perfume of the odor of skunk. Pony Joe wasn’t looking forward to this task but hopefully this would help to mask the smell of the cargo he was hoping to bring home with him. After gathering his supply of food, ropes, blankets, medicine, rain gear and a tent, he was ready to go. Of course, he always took his Bible. He kept it tucked up under his seat. That made it easy to reach in and pull it out whenever he needed to commune with the Lord. Oh, he almost forgot, as he jumped off the wagon and ran back into his cabin to retrieve a little cloth doll, he had bought for such an occasion. A little cloth doll could come in mighty handy when transporting kids. Pony Joe said a prayer, whistled to his team and off they went. He traveled south to the Ohio River and caught the ferry and from there began to make his way toward the Blue Ridge mountains.
This was going to be a long trip and even a longer trip home if he was able to obtain the special cargo in which he was hoping. The trip to the Buckley Plantation near Richmond was uneventful except the weather had turned cold and wet. A couple of streams had become impassable causing him to make some wide sweeping detours. After two weeks of hard travel, Pony Joe arrived at the Buckley Plantation in one piece to which he bowed his head and gave thanks to the Lord.
The plantation was pretty much as he remembered it. The large white framed house with the big white columns in front holding up an upstairs porch. Large weeping willows lined the entrance from the road. There was always lots of activity going on at the plantation. It was evening so you could hear the slaves coming in from the fields singing one of those old folk songs. Farm equipment swaying back and forth across their shoulders as they made their way back to the slave quarters. Laundry was being taking in and you could smell supper being cooked on the hearth.
Mr. Jack Seymour, assistant to the overseer, met Pony Joe as he was pulling up in front of the smoke house. He had met Mr. Seymour before. The years had not been kind to him as Pony Joe noticed a deep scar across his left check and was surprised to see that he had lost his left arm. A hunting accident, he said, as he saw Pony Joe eyeing his injury. It was late. He made some small talk and proceeded to escort Pony Joe to a small guest cottage where he would be staying while conducting his business at the plantation. Pony Joe thanked him and began to unload his gear. Mr. Seymour instructed Pony Joe he would be welcome to look over the horses in the morning.
Sometimes visitors were asked to eat their meals at the main house, but the evening was late and no provision had been made for this. Pony Joe was glad as he was too tired to make social talk. A young girl, about the age of six, brought him supper which consisted of beans, cornbread and ham. She was very shy. Pony Joe asked her name and without looking up she whispered Cassie. As Cassie turned to leave, Pony Joe noticed the scars across the back of her legs. His heart broke. He ate his supper in quietness, pondering what the next few days would bring. He closed his eyes and prayed for wisdom.
