by Jack Ford
Mary was waiting on the porch. The farm, including the main house and the slave cabins, seemed retired for the night, the buildings dark and silent. Ol’ Joshua appeared out of the shifting nighttime shadows and took the reins from Fanny, then wrapped them securely around a porch post. Fanny leapt agilely from the carriage and embraced Mary.
“You’re still sure?” Fanny said. “That this is what you want to do?” Mary nodded decisively. “Want to do. And have to do,” she said.
“We should get going quickly, then,” Fanny said. “You’ve got a ways to travel before daybreak.”
“Please go get Kitty and the children,” Mary said quietly to Ol’ Joshua.
The old slave said nothing and disappeared inside the house. A moment later he returned, leading Kitty, who held a sleeping Arthur in her arms and was followed closely by Eliza Jane and Mary. The girls each carried a small leather satchel, which Ol’ Joshua took from them as they stepped onto the porch. Kitty bent down and whispered something to each of them. They both nodded solemnly, eyes wide but determined.
“Come, girls,” Fanny said gently as she ushered them down the steps to the carriage and helped them get settled into the back passenger seats. She then took the still sleeping Arthur from Kitty and handed him to the girls.
Mary and Kitty stood on the porch, eyes locked together. Mary appeared anxious and a bit fearful, but Kitty seemed stoic.
“You certain you want to do this?” Kitty asked. “Certain you want to leave all this”—she gestured with her hand toward the farm—“to free us? ’Cause if we leave here tonight, there’s no turnin’ back. Not for us, anyway,” she added ominously, still not absolutely certain that she could trust Mary if they ran into trouble.
“I’ve told you,” Mary said resolutely. “We are going to do this. Together. It’s the right thing to do. What I want—what Samuel wanted. And it’s best for you. Now, we need to get going.”
As Kitty stepped off the porch, Ol’ Joshua, who had tucked the satchels under the passenger seats, approached and wrapped Kitty in his arms. They said nothing and simply held each other in a long embrace. Finally, Kitty pulled away, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Ol’ Joshua placed her face between his hands and kissed her lightly on the forehead. “We be seein’ you again—me and your aunt Sarah—when the Jubilee come. Till then, you take care of yo’self and them chilluns,” he said tenderly.
Choked up by her tears, Kitty could say nothing. She simply smiled sadly, nodded, and turned away toward the carriage. Mary, who had climbed into the driver’s box, reached down and helped Kitty climb aboard. The girls had settled into the back seats, wrapped in blankets by Fanny, and were holding the sleeping Arthur in their arms.
After grabbing the reins and untying her horse, Fanny hoisted herself into the saddle and came alongside the carriage.
“I’ll ride with you till we get to the turnoff for my place,” Fanny said. “I’ll leave you there. No sense too many of us being out on the road this late. Only attract attention.” She nodded toward the carriage horse as Mary took up the reins. “She’s good and steady. Won’t be spooked by much. Just take her slow and easy and she’ll be fine.”
“Sounds like you’re talkin’ about me—not the horse,” Mary said, with an awkward grin.
Fanny offered an unconvincing smile in return. “You just be careful and keep in mind everything we planned. Y’all will be fine.”
“Fanny,” Mary began, her voice cracking. “Thank you . . .”
Fanny raised her hand. “No need to be thankin’ me now. Plenty of time for that when you get back. Y’all just be real careful, now.” She hesitated a moment and then looked at Kitty. “Kitty, you be careful, too,” she said a bit stiffly. “And take good care of your mistress.”
Kitty nodded but said nothing.
Fanny clucked softly to her horse, turned, and cantered off into the darkness. Mary slapped the reins of the carriage horse, tugged its head around, and they trotted after Fanny, away from the farmhouse and down the drive.
Ol’ Joshua stood transfixed for a few seconds and then disappeared into the night.
As the small procession traveled away from the farmhouse, the door to one of the slave cabins was cracked open a few inches, and a candle inside flickered. Seconds later, the light blinked out as the door closed silently.
CHAPTER 22
THE TWO HORSEMEN GALLOPED UP THE DRIVE TOWARD THE FARMHOUSE, the horses lathered and panting from a hard ride. It was nearly noon, and the farm slaves, who had just been called in from the fields by Young Joshua for their noontime meal, were gathered around the space in front of their cabins.
The horses, their reins yanked hard, came to a skittering halt, and Sam Maddox, along with the sheriff, jumped to the ground. Maddox spied Ol’ Joshua seated among the slaves and walked toward him.
“Joshua,” Maddox said sternly as he approached. “Lookin’ for your mistress.”
The old man looked up briefly from his tin plate of food. “ ’Polo-gies, Mr. Sam. Not sure where Mistress Mary bein’ right now,” he said as he turned back to his food.
Maddox glanced around at the other slaves, who had all stopped eating and were now shifting around uncomfortably, their attention completely focused on this confrontation. He turned back to Ol’ Joshua.
“Funny, ’cause I heard that she ain’t here,” he said, his voice calm but menacing nonetheless. “Heard that she up and left last night. That she took Kitty and her brood with her.” He paused. “That right?”
“Don’ know nothin’ ’bout that,” Ol’ Joshua said as he continued eating.
Maddox was silent for a moment as he stared down at Ol’ Joshua. Suddenly, his boot flashed through the air, sending the old man’s plate of food flying. Maddox swiftly bent down, grabbed Ol’ Joshua by the front of his shirt, and yanked him to his feet.
“Listen good, ol’ man,” Maddox snarled. “Ain’t nothin’ happen here that you don’t know ’bout.” He shook the old man violently. “So you best be tellin’ me where your mistress’s headin’.” Maddox shook him again so hard that Ol’ Joshua’s knees buckled and he collapsed to the ground. Maddox stood over him and raised his fist. “You best tell me now, or this’ll be your last day on this earth,” Maddox shouted.
Before he could deliver the blow, Young Joshua stepped between them. He was as big as Maddox, and his presence and sheer bulk caused Maddox to take a step back. They glared at each other.
“You best be steppin’ aside, boy,” Maddox hissed. “If you know what’s good for you.”
Young Joshua did not move and returned Maddox’s glare.
“Sheriff,” Young Joshua said calmly. “Don’ believe Mr. Sam got any right to beat on this man. Don’ belong to him. Belong to Mistress Mary. And he ain’ done nothin’ to harm Mr. Sam.” He turned toward the sheriff. “Sheriff?”
A tense moment passed as no one spoke and the two big men continued to glower at each other. Finally, the sheriff took a step toward the men and placed his hand on Maddox’s sleeve.
“Let’s go, Sam. She clearly ain’t here. We need to find ’em. Sooner we get on the road, better chance we have of trackin’ ’em.” He tugged gently. “Let’s go.”
Maddox took a reluctant step back and looked around at the slaves. “Got ten dollars here—cash money—for the first one a you who tells me where Mistress Mary gone to,” he said, looking at each of them. “Ten dollars!”
The slaves remained silent, shuffling their feet and avoiding any eye contact. The heavyset female kitchen slave looked for a moment like she was about to speak, but then retreated back into the group without saying a word.
“Ten dollars!” he repeated. “Nobody?”
No one spoke. Finally, Maddox shot an angry look at everyone.
“Y’all can be sure I’ll remember this,” he said stonily. “And you best be sure I’ll remember you,” he said, pointing at Young Joshua and flashing an unsettling and malevolent grin. “You an’ me ain’t finished, boy
.”
Maddox and the sheriff turned, walked to their horses, and mounted up. Before they galloped off, Maddox looked toward both Young Joshua and Ol’ Joshua.
“We ain’t finished here. You can bet on that!” he yelled over his shoulder as they bolted away down the drive.
CHAPTER 23
THEY HAD BEEN ASLEEP FOR HOURS, HIDDEN IN A CORNER OF A STORAGE room cleaved out of the rocky ground beneath the church. The trip from the Maddox farm had, fortunately, been uneventful. Fanny had ridden with them for the first mile or so and then had parted ways when she neared her home. The moonlight had slithered in and out of the clouds, providing them with just enough light to navigate the road safely, and they had encountered no other travelers as they journeyed the remaining ten miles to the church outside Warrenton.
The girls had swiftly dozed off in the back of the carriage, and this time, little Arthur had remained asleep for the entire trip. Mary and Kitty did not speak at all, each lost in her own thoughts. And doubts.
When they arrived at their destination, it was nearly dawn. The church was a single-story, whitewashed clapboard structure with double doors in the front and a sagging, shabby bright red steeple perched precariously on the roof. Mary drove the carriage around to the back of the building, where it would be hidden from the sight of anyone traveling along the main road.
“Stay here,” Mary whispered to Kitty as she climbed down from the carriage.
It took three rounds of knocking gently on the back door before it was opened. Inside stood an older man clad in a nightshirt, his long gray hair falling to his shoulders, his hand holding a sputtering candle. He had a long, narrow face with deep-set, sleepy eyes. Behind him, peering over his shoulder, was his wife, who was heavyset, wore a sleeping bonnet, and was wrapped in a robe, a concerned look in her eyes.
“Yes? Can we help you?” the man asked.
“I hope that you can,” said Mary warily. “I’m seeking shelter for myself and”—Mary stepped aside and gestured toward Kitty—“for this woman and her children. We’re beginning a long journey, and I’m told that you might be willing to help us.”
The man looked at Kitty and then turned back to Mary. “Are you traveling with them?” he asked.
“Yes,” said Mary.
The man seemed puzzled. “For their entire journey?” he asked.
“Yes,” answered Mary.
The man turned toward his wife, who, after a moment, nodded to him. He stepped back and swung the door open. “Please come in. All of you,” he said.
After Kitty roused the sleepy children, they were all seated at the kitchen table in the cramped living space attached to the rear of the church. The man had introduced himself as Reverend Charles Mortimer, the pastor of the church, and his wife, Martha, had prepared breakfast for the group.
“Where, then, are you heading?” Reverend Mortimer asked cautiously.
“To Pennsylvania,” said Mary.
“May I ask why?” he said.
“How much of our story do you want to know, Reverend?” asked Mary, unsure herself about how much she should divulge.
“Well,” he said thoughtfully, “I suppose you didn’t just stop here accidentally. That you were probably given some . . .” He paused, then continued, “Some instructions about coming here?”
Reverend Mortimer looked pointedly first at Mary and then at Kitty. Both women nodded.
“May I ask what you were told? And by who?” he said.
Kitty spoke first. “My uncle Joshua told me we would find friends here, friends who would be willing to help us along. Friends who would help but not tell anyone about us,” she added.
Reverend Mortimer pursed his lips, bobbed his head slowly, and then looked toward Mary. “And may I ask why you’ve come along?” he said.
Mary wrestled with just how much she should tell him and then decided that if they were going to seek his help, he should know their story. She took a deep breath and then spoke.
“My husband—that is, my late husband—and I have a farm outside Washington. Lived there for about thirty years now. Kitty here has been our slave since she was born. And these are her children. After his death, I decided to free her—to free all of them.” She gestured toward the children. “But before I could do that, I ran into a problem.”
“What sort of problem?” asked the reverend.
“A troublesome nephew. That’s the problem,” she said, anger seeping into her voice.
The reverend cocked his head and raised his eyebrows quizzically. “How troublesome?” he asked.
“A great deal,” Mary said. “Claims he’s entitled to some part of my husband’s estate. And would try to sell off some, maybe all, of my property, including Kitty and the children—if he gets his hands on it.”
“So you’ve decided to run away—and take Kitty here with you—before he can do that?” he asked.
“Yes,” said Mary.
“And you,” he said, turning toward Kitty, “is this what you want?”
“Yes, sir,” Kitty answered firmly.
Reverend Mortimer mulled this all over for a few moments and then turned back toward Mary. “I must say, this is a bit unusual. What are you planning to do?” he asked.
“Our plan is to work our way to Pennsylvania, where I can set them all free. Legally. Then, after they’re settled, I’ll return home,” Mary said.
“And how are you planning on getting there?” he asked.
“We’re hoping that you can help us with that. Give us some directions.” Mary paused and looked directly at both the reverend and his wife. “And perhaps the names of some folks who’d be willing to help us along.”
“Would you mind if my wife and I have a private word?” he said. He glanced at his wife and gestured with his head toward the front room. They then retreated for a few minutes to that room, from whence their voices could be heard rising and falling, the words unclear.
When they returned, Reverend Mortimer smiled kindly at the group. “We will be happy to help you,” he said, his wife nodding as she stood beside him.
“Thank you,” said Kitty fervently, her hands clasped in front of her.
“We appreciate your help. Thank you,” added Mary.
“Well, then,” said the reverend, “first thing we need to do is have y’all get some rest. Must be pretty tired after traveling all night. Martha here will set up a spot down in the storage area below. A bit dark and damp down there but comfortable enough. And I’ll take care of your horse and carriage. Then, after you’re rested, we can figure out what’s next.”
“Come, then,” Martha said kindly, reaching for the children.
“Y’all need some sleep.”
As Martha shepherded the children away, Reverend Mortimer pulled Mary aside.
“This nephew,” he said, dropping his voice, “should we be worried that he might be coming after you?”
“Likely he will,” Mary said quietly. “Soon as he hears we’re gone, I’d expect he’d come lookin’ for us. Not the type to give up easy. Not when money’s involved.”
“Well, then,” Reverend Mortimer said, giving her a knowing glance, “we need to take some precautions. I’ll hide the horse and the carriage. But you’ll need to be sure the children stay quiet down there. Especially if we get any visitors,” he added ominously.
CHAPTER 24
THE HEAVY THUDDING OF BOOTS ON THE FLOOR OVERHEAD AND THE sound of sharp voices snapped Mary and Kitty awake. The children were all still asleep, exhausted by the nighttime journey and sated by the breakfast feast that Martha Mortimer had provided. The women exchanged anxious glances. One of the voices belonged to Sam Maddox.
It was midday when Reverend Mortimer had responded to pounding on the front doors of the church. Standing outside were Sam Maddox and the county sheriff. Both were armed with shotguns.
The reverend had welcomed them calmly.
“Good afternoon, gentlemen,” he said kindly. “Can I be of some assistance?”
&nb
sp; The sheriff began to speak, but Maddox interrupted him. “My name’s Maddox, and this here’s Sheriff Abbott. We’re from Rappahannock County. We’re chasin’ after some runaway slaves, and we think they may’ve headed this way. We’re hopin’ you might be able to help us,” he said in a pleasant tone, accompanied by a charming smile.
“Well, I’d certainly like to be able to help you gentlemen,” Reverend Mortimer said, matching Maddox’s friendly demeanor, “but can’t say we’ve seen anyone fitting that description round here. Fact is, you’re the first folks we’ve seen in probably two days.” He shrugged. “Sorry we can’t be of any assistance.”
The sheriff took a step back and looked around the property, while Maddox peered past the reverend into the church.
“Don’t s’pose you’d mind us takin’ a look around, then,” the sheriff stated, more a demand than a question.
Reverend Mortimer shrugged again. “If you’d like.”
“Anyone else here with you?” Maddox asked.
“Just my wife. She’s round back in the kitchen,” the reverend said.
The newcomers nodded to each other and took separate paths around the church building. Reverend Mortimer closed the doors and retreated through the church to the kitchen.
“There’re two men outside—sheriff from Rappahannock County and a man named Maddox. Say they’re lookin’ for some runaway slaves,” he said in a slightly louder voice than normal. “Told ’em we haven’t seen anyone but they were welcome to take a look around.”
A look of alarm shot across Martha Mortimer’s face. The reverend patted her reassuringly on the arm.
“They’re takin’ a look outside now,” he added.
The reverend and his wife peeked cautiously out the tiny back window and saw the two men entering the barn behind the church. After a few tense minutes, the men exited the barn and walked toward the house. Hearing the pounding of footsteps on the back porch, Reverend Mortimer opened the door, and Maddox and the sheriff stepped, uninvited, inside.