The Legacy of the Old Greenwood Plantation

      The Legend of the Old Greenwood Plantation.

Suzanne Marsh

“Listen!” The cool wind off of the bayou, blew the green velvet drapes slightly. I began to feel as if we were not alone here at Greenwood. Andy Walters, my friend and confident, stood watching the window: “There is nothing there Reese. Lets get the sleeping bags and food out of the car. We can set up cameras in the living and dining rooms. Hey check out those portraits!”

I turned toward the wooden staircase that seemed to go on forever. The portraits were of Samuel and Suzette Greenwood. Samuel had the plantation built after he married Suzette; it was part of her dowry. There were times during the daylight hours that I was sure Suzette was watching me. Her eyes were pale blue, her dark hair shone brilliantly, her smile, haunting.

Andy and I did a quick walk about the house. The nursery had two trundle beds, a cradle, a straw pallet was next to the cradle. The master bedroom was bigger than my entire living room. The bed was high off the floor. The mauve downy quilt looked freshly laundered. I thought about that for a moment; then continued on through the upstairs rooms. We found the stairs going to the attic, they were tucked away into the wall. I wondered if that was where Suzette hid the Union prisoners she aided during the Second Rebellion.

We explored the attic, there were portraits of several Confederate General and Union Generals. I wondered just which side Suzette had chosen. I found a very ornate desk, it must have been Suzette’s. The drawers of the desk contained bills of sale for human chattel. My eyes could not believe what I was seeing. Very neat, precise handwriting. Columns that stated the net worth of the slaves. There was one name that caught my eye; Sassy. It seemed a rather strange name for a slave. Her column was void of anything other than one thousand dollars: Colonel John Hardy. This made no sense.

We headed down the stairs of the attic. The sun set in a glorious pink. We found our flashlights in the backpacks. The small lights danced along the staircase. Andy and I sat and discussed our find of this afternoon. Who was Sassy? Was she a slave? Who was Colonel John Hardy? These questions needed answers. The midnight hour approached; darkness took hold. The sleeping bag seemed to have bunched up. I awoke with a start. I heard cries that sounded like a banshee. Then I heard a scream, that scream went through my entire being. Now at long last perhaps we would have the answers to our questions. Chains began to rattle, my imagination was running wild. How could I possibly hear chains. Then a raspy voice from somewhere above began:

“You asked about our story. My name was Sassafras but Master and Mistress called me Sassy.

I wanted to gain my freedom but the Master wanted me in his bed. The Mistress did not really

care since she were havin a fling with Colonel Hardy. I reckon dey was both unhappy. I

waited and plotted to get away from dis place. Der was so many slaves in the fields and di

great house. I knew I had to make a run for it. The swamp would protect me for a short

time, den I would have to sleep during the day and run at night.

“I remember de day I lef Greenwood. I run into the swamp like a scairt rabbit. I done it

though. The swamp stank, as night wore on fog rose up. The next mornin I was up early.

I remember hearing the dogs a comin’. Dem dogs they was mean; they’d rip a person to

pieces just because they could. Dem dogs kept a howlin. Den one of dem white trash men

saw my foot print. He done found me. The first thing dey done was put a slave collar on

me, like I was one of dem dogs. I could not move my neck, dem spikes wound tear the

flesh in my neck. Dem men collected der reward for me. The master did not want to

hurt me to bad den I would be no good for his pleasurin. I was put in a cell where I was

to wait for punishment. I could see from de cell a big ole pit a bein dug. Then a post with

a big ring.

I was scairt. The master came with Old Mose. Dey took me to de whippin post.

Dey tied my hands above my head. De black snake hissed, then the pain began. I died that night from the beating. I been hauntin Greenwood ever since.”

This was no figment of my imagination, this ghost actually was talking to Andy and I.

“What about Suzette and Colonel Hardy?” I asked quietly, not want to disturb her or frighten her. She smiled a faint sad smile:

“Mistress was havin a fling wit him. He was good lookin for a white boy. De master

found out about it. He done beat her within an inch o her life. Colonel Hardy, heard

her screamin, why he done challenge the Master to a duel. Ole Mose say dat de Master

shot his pistol and missed, den de Colonel he shot his. Master were dead. Dat was

just after I runned off. We was all dead.”

My heart beat faster. Andy, his mouth agape could think of nothing to ask her. He finally stammered:

“No wonder they say this place is haunted.”

“Andy, this ghost will haunt this plantation until the end of time. She won’t hurt anyone.”

Once again, I saw her apparition as she slowly disappeared in a haze of smoke. We would leave the next morning with more respect than we had when we arrived. Sassy, must have had a terrible life, yet she made the most of it. The legacy of the Greenwood Plantation was murder; question was, would anyone believe us if we told about the apparition of Sassy? Was it some cheap wine or did she really appear?