Chapter 9

The Statesboro Buggy and Wagon Company occupied a large two story brick building on the corner of North Main Street and Courtland Street across from the Courthouse. The Singer Sewing Machine outlet was right next to it in a much smaller building. There were other stores along the street in a number of other buildings. The sidewalks here were made of wood and there was a canopy on the buildings that covered them. The owners of the buggy business also sold horses, mules, and harnesses along with other things. Additionally, they had a funeral parlor and sold caskets in the same building.

On entering, Owen and I were greeted cheerfully by the salesman there, but he frowned on seeing Joe with us.

“How can we help you, sir?” he inquired.

“I’m looking for a buggy and a team,” Owen told him.

“I see. What size buggy were you considering?”

“Something large enough for the three of us and a number of supplies.”

“Come right this way, we have a number of different models behind the building, and you can choose the one that you think is right. Our horses are kept across the street and you can look at them while our mechanics ready your buggy,” the salesman told us in his slick voice before even looking at me.

“Your wife may want to wait in here, as it’s still a bit muddy in the yard,” he told Owen.

“That’s all right, I’ll just go next door and look at the sewing machines,” I told them. “I’ll catch up with you in a bit.” I had seen the new mechanical sewing machines in both Kentucky and in New York. I would have liked to have one but didn’t think that we could afford one presently. They were worked by a foot treadle, and were so much faster than sewing by hand. Mr. Parker, the owner of the business had a number of models set up to demonstrate and allowed me to try one out. He even gave me instructions on how to operate it correctly. He was only a little disappointed when I told him I would have to ask my Husband when we could afford one.

I eventually caught up with Owen and Joe in the stable yard across North Main Street. They were looking at horses. While Joe checked their teeth and mouths, Owen was checking their feet and shoes. They rejected several horses that appeared to be all right to me before accepting one. The next horse to be brought out, however, caused Owen to call for the Manager.

“This horse has severe problems with his feet. If they aren’t corrected quickly, he will be lame for the rest of his life,” Owen told the man on arriving. He appeared to be quite surprised by this.

“Are you an authority on horses’ feet?” he asked.

“No, but I’m a blacksmith, and I’ve shod enough horses, mules, and oxen to be able to recognize the problems,” Owen told him.

“I see. Thank you for bringing this to our attention, sir,” the Manager told Owen in a courteous voice. “We’ll have the problem corrected and the shoes replaced.”

“I hope that you aren’t using Mr. Hardie’s services for that kind of work,” Owen told him.

“Do you know Mr. Hardie?” the Manager asked.

“I’ve seen him work and couldn’t work for him,” Owen told him. The Manager smiled on hearing this before turning to the others working there.

“Who accepted this horse?” he demanded. There was a short silence before anyone answered.

“It were Mr. B.J., boss,” a large black man finally told him.

“I will need to have a talk with young Mr. B.J ... In the meantime, have Mr. Walker, the Farrier, take a look at this horses feet,” he directed before turning back to us, as I had joined Owen and Joe.

“Is there anything else that we can do for you, Mr... ?”

“O’Connell, Owen O’Connell and this is my wife, Grace, and Joe our handyman. He’ll be coming in to pick up things for me from time to time.”

“A pleasure ma’am,” the Manager said to me, but only looked at Joe before say, “Yes.”

“We’ll need ten bales of hay, six bales of straw, and a hundred and fifty pounds of grain for the horses. Can you supply and deliver that?” Owen asked.

“Certainly, where should it be delivered?”

“We bought the O’Connell land and will be living in the house at the end of Plantation Lane,” Owen told him.

“We won’t be able to deliver it out there until tomorrow afternoon, Mr. O’Connell. Is that satisfactory?”

“Yes, we won’t be moving in until tomorrow at the earliest. We still have a lot to do to get the house ready,” Owen told him.

“Is this the horse that you have selected?” the Manager asked following that.

“It’s the first one that we selected. I want another one to go with him.”

“Certainly, we have a number of other horses available,” the Manager told him and signaled for a couple of more horses to be brought out. After checking a couple more horses, Owen picked another horse that Joe had also approved of. That horse was the same size and general color as the first horse, and they made a good looking pair.

Two men brought the horses over to the other yard where the buggy that Owen had selected was and used the new harnesses there to hitch them to the buggy, while Owen went inside to finish paying for everything. It was an expensive purchase but necessary if we were to be able to come and go as needed.

By the time we left the Buggy Company, it was already late morning and we still had a lot of shopping to do. First though, Owen led the horses over to the water trough and had them get a good drink before we set out. We made stops at two grocery stores and the hardware store before visiting the local firewood merchant.

“I want to get a cord of good dry firewood,” Owen told the owner.

“We can do that. Do you want it delivered or will you be picking it up?”

“We’ll need to have it delivered. We’re living in the old O’Connell house at the end of Plantation Lane. When can you deliver it?”

“It won’t be until tomorrow, as I have deliveries in town to finish today. It will probably be tomorrow afternoon before I can get out there,” the owner told us.

“That’s fine, we’re expecting other deliveries then also,” Owen told him before bargaining over the price of the firewood and its delivery. By the time that we finished everything, it was already past noontime, and we were still in Statesboro.

“If we stop to eat here, we’ll never get out to the house, and you still need to talk to the man at the stable about leaving the buggy and the horses there overnight tonight. Drop me at the diner, and I’ll arrange for some food while you take care of the livery stable,” I told Owen, as we left the firewood dealer.

I had picked up a deep pot with a lid at the hardware store and took it into the diner with me. I ordered three meals and put everything in the pot when they arrived. The waitress put the bread and the butter in a paper bag for me. Owen and Joe were waiting for me when I came out of the diner, and we set out for the house.

The trip out to Plantation Lane seemed to be shorter or perhaps we were just a bit more familiar with it now. As we turned onto the Lane, Joe spoke for the first time since we had left the diner.

“I used to farm de thirty acres on de left next to de entry road,” he told us with a smile. “De lane were in better condition back then,” he added when we had gone a little further, and as we approached the gates to the house, he spoke again.

“How you going to get in? Dem gates is closed and is prob’ly locked. Even de little gate is prob’ly locked.”

“It wasn’t a problem yesterday,” Owen told him as we neared the gates, and they opened for us, swinging wide. They closed when we were passed them and locked loudly. Joe just stared at the closed gates from the back of the buggy. He didn’t say anything until we stopped at the house.

“How ... what... ?” was all that he could get out for a time, as we all dismounted from the buggy.

“I never seed anything like dat in my life. How you do dat?” he asked still a bit shocked.

“Magic,” I told him, but added, “Not ours, but somehow it seems to work for us?”

“Shall we go into the house?” Owen asked, and as we approached the double doors of the house, they too opened to admit us and then closed behind us much to Joe’s shock.

“We should go upstairs and check it before starting on the kitchen. You men can check the carriage house while I’m working on the kitchen. You can also bring in the groceries and other things that we brought with us,” I told them taking charge of the search of the house.

“That sounds like a plan,” Owen agreed, and we took the broad steps up to the second floor. There were a number of mostly empty rooms on the far end of the hallway there, but as we proceeded toward the front of the house, there were three bedrooms with expensive furniture in them and a small washroom or bath. In the bath there were several large ceramic bowls with pitchers in them on a cabinet, an old brass tub, several small wooden buckets that had dried out, and a very fancy night stand for doing one’s business. There was also an old razor strop and a small fogged mirror near the cabinet that held the bowls.

The real surprise however was waiting for us in the master bedroom. There was a huge four poster bed, two wardrobes for clothes, two nightstands, and two dressers plus a hope chest at the foot of the bed. Everything was made of rich, dark, figured Mahogany just as the furniture in the other bedrooms had been. There was also a bath area with a cabinet and bowls plus a large brass tub. There was a large mirror on the wall above the cabinet that was cracked across one corner. Additionally there was a separate sitting room with two sofas, several different types of chairs, a very elegant grandfather clock, and a fireplace. The deep rich rugs on the floors of both the bedroom and the sitting room were a forest green color and looked nearly new. We were all shocked and just stared at these magnificent rooms for a time.

“Where will we ever find sheets and blankets to fit that huge bed?” was my first thought on recovering from seeing all of this.

“Let’s try the chest at the foot of the bed, and then the wardrobes if nothing is in there,” Owen suggested. On opening the chest, we found sheets, pillow cases, blankets and a comforter neatly stacked in it, and they looked and smelled like they had just been placed in there in the last few days, and hadn’t been sitting there for many years.

“Everything looks like the owner had just put her thing away and gone downstairs a few minutes ago,” Owen said after a few seconds.

“Just like yesterday,” I reminded him, as again we had seen no dead bugs, cobwebs, or dirt in any of the rooms that we had checked.

“What about de wardrobes?” Joe asked, and moved over to open the doors of one. It was full of clothes ... women’s clothes that had been fashionable twenty or thirty years ago. Many of those that we looked at were faded and thin in places from long use.

“Dem is de kind of dressed dat de O’Connell Sisters wore,” Joe told us in a shaky voice as I closed the wardrobe.

“Well, it doesn’t look like we’ll need to worry about where to sleep, but we’ll need to haul water up here to wash up with, and will need to empty the nightstands daily. There must be someplace to empty them,” Owen remarked.

“They were a cesspool out behind de stable where de waste buckets was emptied before,” Joe told us.

“We’ll need to check on that also,” Owen told him in a resigned voice.

“We still need to check the rest of the house, and the carriage house today. We’re going to need to check the well and the water pump that I saw in the kitchen as well,” I reminded them.

“Yes, let’s get started on the rest of the house, it’s getting later all of the time,” Owen agreed.

Downstairs, we checked both parlors and their furnishings in addition to discovering the den and the sewing room. There was an older model Singer Sewing machine in there. I would need to have Mr. Parker check it out for me before using it. There was a music room with a pair of small harps and some flutes plus chairs and sheet music. The sideboards in the dining room held table cloths and napkins as well as a full set of fine china, and crystal glasses. There was silverware in the knife boxes, but the wine cellarets were empty. It was easy to see that Joe was impressed with the dining room and its marvelous wall paper.

We continued into the kitchen, and I began inspecting everything while Owen and Joe went to check on the other buildings. The kitchen looked like it had just been through a spring cleaning. The wooden floor was clean and without any grease spots or marks on it. The pots and pans all shined, and there was no rust on either the steel or the iron ones. The dishes, plates, bowls, cups and mugs were neatly stacked in the cupboards and the utensils were clean in their drawers. There were even boxes of matches that still worked. The icebox was clean inside and out with no trace of mold or odors.