17
Before leaving Fort Stanwix, Colonel Gansevoort stopped both Abagail and Skenan at the gate, inviting them to accompany him to his office, if only for a moment. Of course, both she and her husband agreed.
“What do you think this is all about?” asked Abagail of Skenan.
“I do not know,” he answered, shrugging. “But, of this I am aware. Colonel Gansevoort is a good friend, and so, although I am curious about what he intends, I am certain whatever he has to say will be helpful.”
As soon as the three of them stepped into the colonel’s office, Skenan was surprised to see the Rev. Samuel Kirkland standing toward the back of the room. And, he was holding the white man’s Good Book in his hands.
Said Colonel Gansevoort, “After I had married the two of you, I knew I could not let you leave this fort without asking Reverend Kirkland to come here to the fort as quickly as he could. His mission is, you see, to marry the both of you properly, within the eyes of God, or as you often call Him, my friend, The Creator.”
Skenan smiled. Then he said, “Both my wife and I are honored by your gesture, Colonel Gansevoort, and both my woman and I wish to thank you for causing this to happen.”
Reverend Kirkland cleared his throat before saying, “Then, if all is in order, I would ask you both to hold hands and to come stand here in front of me. I will conduct the wedding ceremony.”
Smiling down at the beautiful woman at his side, Skenandoah took Abagail’s hand into his hand, whereupon he led her toward the reverend, there to take their vows.
As soon as the wedding ceremony was completed, Colonel Gansevoort escorted both Abagail and Skenan, as well as the reverend, into his office where he invited the three of them to sit before him. And, when they were properly seated, Colonel Gansevoort gazed at Abagail and then at her husband, there being an odd look upon the colonel’s countenance. He hesitated for a moment, then said, “And now, I think I should tell the both of you, Miss Abagail, and you, Skenandoah, that I have found another compartment in this locket you brought to me.”
“Another compartment?” asked Abagail.
“It is, indeed, another chamber in it, though it is hidden behind the lining of the necklace. Strangely, I found a note there, perfectly folded.”
““Oh, my! You found another note?” asked Abagail. “Within the necklace? Has it to do with the war? I mean, is it also in code?”
“No, it is perfectly readable,” responded the colonel. “I think you both might like to see what is written there. Perhaps, after you read it, we might all decide upon the meaning of it. And so, Mrs. Skenandoah, might I give you this locket so you can see the note? I am very interested in your opinion of what this all might mean.” The Colonel handed Abagail the locket, which she proceeded to open with the clasp. Then, pulling back the lining of the jewelry, she brought the small, perfectly folded paper out of its hiding place and into the light. Unfolding the paper, she read aloud:
My Dearest Girl,
This locket would not exist but for my beloved. He entreated a trusted friend to fashion it for me, yet it is far more than a common ornament. It was born of love, wrought in silver, and shaped by steadfast devotion.
As you have now discovered, to awaken its wonder one need only place the locket upon her heart, and love shall surely find its way to you, thus fulfilling the locket’s true and intended purpose.
Love, like liberty, thrives when freely bestowed. When the time comes that you no longer have need of its guidance, pass the locket from one hopeful heart to another, that its promise may endure.
May your days be filled with the joy that springs from choosing love above all else.
And never forget that love, freely given, is the truest liberty we may ever know.
Ever yours,
Martha Washington
“Oh my,” said Abagail. “It is written by Martha Washington, George Washington’s wife. But wait, there is more, and it continues:”
When all those around us were pressed to choose their allegiance, Branch and I chose one another and learned that love, like liberty, must be claimed with courage and defended with devotion.
Lucy Carlson and Branch Barton
Philadelphia, August 28, 1776
“Oh, my,” Abagail said again.
“Now I know why I felt this locket was special,” Skenan said into the sudden silence of the room. “Do you remember, my woman, when we were in the cave and you gave me the necklace to hold? I recall thinking there was something special about it, and, when I placed the locket upon my heart, it brought me a feeling of happiness. These two people, Lucy and Branch, appear to have been married on the date written there.”
“Yes,” agreed Abagail, “I believe you are right. But I think there is more to it. I think George Washington had this necklace made to not only tell his wife how much he loved her, but to have the necklace passed along from one couple to another. I can see now how it is: I am not the first one who has had the necklace in their possession. I believe these two people, Lucy and Branch, found love while this locket was in the care of and within their grasp. And, as Martha Washington wished it to be, the locket was passed along to others...to us.”
“Indeed it is so,” said Skenan. I wonder if it was made because this country is at war. Could it be this necklace was created to bring love to one another instead of the hatred war always brings? I am glad Mr. Wilson chose to entrust you, my woman, with the coded message written in the locket. After all, it was because of the need to carry the message inside the necklace to this fort, that we, too, found love along the way.”
“I think you are right, my husband.”
Skenandoah reached out to take hold of her hand, and, as he did so, Abagail felt pulled to leave a message about her own luck in love, and, by leaving a note about her own marriage, perhaps she might aid another man and woman to come together in love.”
“I believe,” said Abagail, “I shall write my own message in the locket.”
“Indeed,” Colonel Gansevoort said. “It is why I have asked you both to be seated here. I thought you might very well like to do this. And so, I give you my desk so you may write what you deem to be appropriate. Perhaps the reverend and I might step away for a moment, thus giving you some privacy.”
“Thank you, Colonel. I thank you very much.”
After the colonel and the reverend had left the room, Abagail frowned, considering what she might write as she took up feather and ink. But, after a moment, she knew what she must write.
From my dear husband, Skenandoah, I learned that a man and a woman, being created by God and in His image, were created to be free and joined forever in love.
Abagail Densbury and Oneida scout, Skenandoah, The Deer
Fort Stanwix, August 27, 1777
When she had finished, she refolded the paper and replaced it into the necklace’s lining.
“Are you not going to wear the necklace so you might give it to another?” asked Skenan.
Abagail smiled before answering her husband. But, after a moment, she said, “I think not, husband dear. I think this locket should stay here where another might find it. I believe it belongs more to the American Revolution than to any one person. Indeed, I think it best to leave it here in the fort which has been torn apart by war.”
“Ah, a wise woman you are. Very wise you are, indeed.”
Abagail smiled at Skenan. Because of the power of love, she had, indeed, found love and so much more. And, as she stood up and took Skenan’s hand, she said, “Let it remain here so another, like us, can discover the healing effect of love.”
Skenan grinned at her, and, bringing his face down toward hers, he kissed her.
It is said by the Oneida people that Skenandoah and Abagail lived a long life together and they had many children who were loved and cherished dearly. Always, were they an inspiration to others, even under the most trying of circumstances.
THE END