Freedom at the Falls

by Marianne Hering

  “A man will come looking for it in a minute,” Beth said. “He’s blond and wearing a long, leather coat.”

  The railroad worker lifted his hat at Beth. “All right, then,” he said. “Have a good day.”

  Willie moved to the sliding door and slammed it shut. “Are we ready?” he asked.

  “Yes,” Beth said.

  Beth heard a squeaking sound. The brakes on the train released. Any second the train would begin to move away from the depot.

  “Take out the toy soldier,” Willie called to Patrick.

  Beth took Willie’s arm. The two of them moved to the center of the baggage car.

  Beth watched as Patrick pulled the toy soldier from the doorframe. Then he joined Beth and Willie.

  Jones burst through the door. His whip was in his hand. He cracked the long, leather strap in the air. Snap.

  It sounded like a gunshot. Beth flinched.

  “Where is Sally?” Jones asked. His voice sounded like an animal’s growl. He snapped the whip again.

  The children were silent. Beth felt sweat dripping down her neck. Her hands began to sweat. She was so afraid she couldn’t speak. She held Willie’s and Patrick’s hands. Their hands were damp too.

  The slave catcher moved his head from side to side. He was searching for Sally. “There’s the basket,” he said. “But where’s the food?” He turned around. “And where’s the trunk?”

  The train started moving. The familiar clacking sound gave Beth courage.

  She said, “You’re too late.”

  Jones scowled when he heard her. “No!” he said. He cracked the whip in anger. Snap!

  Beth felt a rush of air near her ear. The tip of the whip just missed her.

  The slave catcher rushed to the side door and slid it open. He stuck his head outside.Light flooded the baggage car. Voices from people on the platform were shouting goodbye to the Lincoln Special.

  “The trunk!” Jones shouted. “Sally and the food must be inside!”

  Jones looked over his shoulder at Beth. “I win,” the slave catcher said.

  Then Jones leaped off the rolling train.

  The Tickets

  Patrick moved first. He closed the sliding door.

  “We win! Jones is gone!” Willie said. “Hurrah!”

  The flowered carpetbag fell to the floor. Sally slowly climbed out of her hideaway.

  “You don’t look well,” Patrick said. He went to help Sally down. He clasped her hand in his as she stepped over the luggage. Patrick felt her small hand trembling.

  Beth hurried to Sally’s side. She wrapped Mrs. Lincoln’s blue cloak around Sally.

  “Poor girl,” Beth said. “You must have been so scared when you heard Jones’s whip snap. I didn’t have time to tell you about the plan.”

  “Or me,” Patrick said. “At first I had no idea why you put the trunk on the depot platform.”

  “Sorry,” Beth said. “I’m glad Willie figured it out and helped me.”

  “I thought I was caught,” Sally said. She wiped tears from her cheeks. “I thought I had to go back.”

  Beth put her arm around Sally’s shoulders.

  “You’re safe now,” Patrick said. That only made Sally begin to sob.

  “I won’t . . . be . . . safe . . .” she said between breaths, “until . . . I’m . . . in . . . Canada.”

  Beth squeezed Sally’s shoulders in a gentle hug. Sally leaned into her, and they both cried.

  Patrick backed away. Crying girls made him uncomfortable.

  Willie followed him.

  Patrick whispered, “We have a new conductor now. He’s going to rearrange the luggage.”

  Willie said, “I think we should take Sally to Mrs. Lincoln. She’ll make sure Sally is safe.”

  Patrick said, “Will Sally need a ticket when the new conductor comes aboard?” He reached inside his pocket and fingered the single ticket. “I have an extra, but it’s for a ferry in Buffalo.”

  “A ticket won’t matter if she’s with my mother,” Willie said. Then he called to the girls, “Wipe your tears. It’s time to go.”

  Patrick whistled. He said to Willie, “You are responsible.”

  Willie smiled and then said, “Don’t tell Wood. He’d make me help. I’d rather do pranks, because they make Mr. Lincoln smile.” He gave Patrick a playful punch in the arm.

  “We’re ready,” Beth said. The girls were holding hands.

  Patrick said, “People have seen Jones’s poster. We have to try to keep Sally’s face hidden.”

  Beth released Sally’s hand and pulled up her own hood. Then she helped Sally pull the blue hood over her head. It was big enough to cover most of her face.

  Patrick led the way out of the baggage car. They followed him across the connecting platform. They all entered the smoking car. He was for once glad of the smoky haze. It would make Sally’s face even harder to see.

  Sally followed Patrick down the center aisle, keeping her head low. Beth and Willie were not far behind.

  Patrick glanced around the car. No one paid attention to them except the red-haired, bearded man. He stood near the stove in the center of the train car.

  As Patrick passed, the red-haired man smiled. He motioned for the children to stop.

  Patrick slowed and said, “We’re in a hurry.”

  “This will take just a moment,” the man said politely. “I’m Hal Ross from the Cincinnati Daily Press. I’d like to meet Mr. Lincoln. Perhaps you can help me.”

  Patrick relaxed a little. The reporter probably just wanted news about President-elect Lincoln.

  Ross took out a small pad of paper from his pocket. “Let’s start with the details. The girl in the green is Tad Lincoln’s nursemaid,” Ross said. “But who are the rest of you?” He pointed to Sally with his pencil. “Especially the girl in blue.”

  Patrick heard Sally inhale quickly. She kept her head lowered so the hood hid her face.

  Suddenly Willie said to Ross, “Want to meet Mr. Lincoln?”

  The reporter moved toward Willie. Ross’s face wore an eager grin. “Can you get me in to see Mr. Lincoln?” he asked.

  Willie put one foot forward and raised his arms. He waved his palms. “Ta-dah! I’m Mr. Lincoln!” he said. “William Wallace Lincoln, that is!”

  Ross wasn’t watching Sally anymore. Patrick smiled at Willie’s joke. For once, Willie’s silliness was helpful. Patrick guided Sally away from Ross and toward the door.

  Just then an unfamiliar man entered the smoking car. He wore a three-piece blue suit and a conductor’s hat. He was pushing Mrs. Lincoln’s second trunk with a little cart.

  “I’m Conductor Morehead, representing the Buffalo and Erie Railroad Company,” he shouted. “Tickets out, please!”

  Beth was right behind Sally and Patrick. She heard the conductor’s words, and her heart fluttered. Sally doesn’t have a ticket. He’ll put her off the train.

  Beth quickly stepped toward Conductor Morehead to distract him from Sally. She reached into her cloak pocket and held out her ticket. “I’m punched all the way to Buffalo,” she said.

  The new conductor took Beth’s ticket and inspected it. He punched the ticket again and handed it back to her. He smiled and said, “Thank you.”

  Then Conductor Morehead stepped farther into the car, pushing the cart away from the door. He approached Ross. “Excuse me,” he said, “but I need to see your ticket.”

  Ross shook his notepad. His ticket dropped out, and he handed it to the conductor. The conductor punched the ticket and returned it.

  Patrick was next. He reached in his pocket and pulled out a ticket.

  “This one is for the Black Rock Ferry,” said Morehead.

  “Oh?” Ross said. “Are you going to Canada on the ferry?” He held the pencil over the notepad. “And is Mr. William Lincoln going with you?”

  Beth looked to Willie to see how he would answer. But the boy was gone. And so was Sally!

  Grace Bedell

  Patrick hand
ed Conductor Morehead his other ticket. Then he put the first one back in his pocket. “Everything is in order,” Morehead said after punching Patrick’s train ticket.

  The conductor pulled a pocket watch out of his vest. “It’s one thirty. We have only five minutes before we reach North East station,” he said. “I need to punch everyone’s ticket on this car before that. And I need to put this trunk in the baggage car.”

  The conductor snapped his watch closed and returned it to his vest. He lifted his hat to Beth.

  Beth smiled. “Thank you, sir,” she said.

  The conductor pushed the trunk toward the baggage car.

  Patrick had almost forgotten about Ross.

  “A word, sir?” Ross said to the new conductor. “Will the stop at North East station be long? I want go into the depot and wire a message.”

  “You’ll have time if you hurry,” the conductor said.

  “Right,” said Ross. He wrote something on his notepad. “Thank you.”

  Beth gently nudged Patrick with her elbow. “Let’s go,” she said. The cousins turned toward the rear of the train.

  Beth and Patrick entered Mr. Lincoln’s train car. Patrick paused. “I’m going to find Willie,” he said. Patrick headed to the back of the train.

  Beth moved inside Mrs. Lincoln’s compartment. She felt safer there.

  It seemed Sally did too. The runaway was sitting on a seat. The blue cloak was draped over the back of it. Tad sat next to her. The young boy was reading the ABC book to her.

  Mrs. Lincoln was looking on and smiling. When Beth caught her eye, Mrs. Lincoln gave her a wink.

  The train whistle blasted twice. Beth felt the train slow.

  Beth picked up a newspaper. The front page had the schedule for the Lincoln Special.

  “The train has a few more stops,” she told Sally. “North East, Westfield, Dunkirk, and Silver Creek. It’s due in Buffalo at five o’clock. Only about three more hours.”

  The train slowed and stopped.

  Willie looked out the window. “This is the depot in North East,” he said. “There’s only a small crowd. Mr. Lincoln won’t get out.”

  A few minutes later, the train whistle blew. Beth felt relieved. They were closer to Buffalo with each stop.

  Patrick and Willie were playing with the tin soldiers near the stove again.

  Patrick was glad to see the one Willie had employed as a wedge. It was dented but still usable. The little man looked battle-worthy.

  The train whistle blew one long toot. The noise caused the men sitting near Lincoln to stir.

  “This must be Westfield,” Lincoln said in a hoarse voice. “I’ve been looking forward to this stop.”

  Wood stood and began pacing. “No need to talk so much here,” he said. “Your voice will fail if you’re not quiet. Save your vocal cords for the people of Buffalo.”

  “I have a special friend here,” Lincoln said. “I will address the crowd.” He rose from his seat and picked up his black hat. Then he ducked and stepped through the rear door and onto the platform.

  Willie put the tin soldiers in his pocket. Then he and Patrick joined Lincoln on the back platform.

  Lincoln was waving to the large crowd.

  The people were cheering and clapping. Everyone wore nice clothes. Patrick was amazed that ladies would crowd closely together in their wide, fluffy dresses.

  Lincoln said loudly, “I am glad to see you. I suppose you are glad to see me.”

  The crowd went wild with cheers and claps. Women waved handkerchiefs. Men waved hats and American flags.

  Lincoln continued, “But you folks are so good looking. It seems I have the best of the bargain.”

  The crowd laughed. Then they clapped again.

  Lincoln said, “Three months ago, a young lady mailed me a letter. Her name is Grace Bedell. She suggested I let my whiskers grow to improve my looks.”

  Lincoln raised his hand to stroke his scraggly beard.

  A young lad sitting on a nearby post pointed toward the back of the crowd and said, “There’s Grace!”

  The crowd parted. A young girl walked toward the train platform. She carried a bouquet of roses in her arms.

  Patrick thought she looked about eleven years old.

  The crowd moved away from the platform railing. Grace climbed the steep steps to the platform. Lincoln stepped toward her.

  The crowd cheered. Grace and Lincoln spoke to each other softly.

  Patrick was too far away to hear what they said.

  Then Lincoln shook Grace’s hand. He gave her a swift, gentle kiss on the cheek.

  Grace smiled sweetly and blushed as red as a tomato. Then she hurried down the stairs with the flowers. She disappeared into the crowd.

  The people began cheering even louder. Lincoln waved to them and then went back into the train car.

  Willie giggled. He leaned toward Patrick and whispered, “I’ll bet she was nervous. She forgot to give Mr. Lincoln those roses.”

  The Telegram

  The train whistle blew twice. Patrick left the platform and entered the train car. Conductor Morehead was inside. Lincoln was already relaxed in his seat, blanket on, hat off.

  Patrick went to the seat with his cloak draped over the back.

  The conductor turned to Wood. “I have a telegram for you,” Morehead said. “Two came in at Westfield.” He handed Wood a piece of paper.

  Wood read the message out loud, “‘BR Ferry watched. On horseback HJ.’” Wood was silent for a few seconds. “Hmm,” he said, “That doesn’t make any sense.” He studied the paper. “It was sent from the Erie depot,” he said.

  The conductor looked at another paper. “My mistake, sir,” he said. “That one is for a reporter. This one is for you.”

  The conductor and Wood exchanged papers.

  Wood scanned the new telegram. “Another message from the New York governor,” he said. “Mrs. Lincoln will be given a carriage for her and the children. It will be waiting at the depot.”

  Willie nudged Patrick. The boys stepped away from the men and toward the stove. “Do you think the first telegram from HJ could mean Holman Jones?” Willie whispered. “But who is BR?”

  “Not who. What is BR,” Patrick said. He pulled the extra ticket from his pocket. “This is a one-way ticket to Canada. It’s on the Black Rock Ferry for tonight. That must be the BR Ferry.”

  “How did Holman Jones know about the ferry?” Willie asked.

  Patrick said, “I’ll bet that Hal Ross told Jones through a telegram. He wants part of the reward, the fifty silver pieces.”

  Willie said, “Does ‘on horseback’ mean Mr. Jones is following the train?”

  That thought made Patrick feel cold with dread. “That makes sense,” he said. “Jones can probably catch up easily. This train stops so many times.”

  Wood called to them. “Willie and Patrick,” he said, “go tell Mrs. Lincoln about the carriage. And stay in there. We men are going to talk politics.”

  “Yes, sir,” Patrick said. He picked up his cloak and put it on.

  “Fine with me,” Willie said. “I’m more a man of action than words.”

  Mr. Lincoln gave a hearty laugh.

  Mrs. Lincoln napped with Tad on the lower bunk bed. The four older children had to be quiet. They sat near one another in a cluster of seats.

  The train stopped in Dunkirk and Silver Creek, New York. But none of them went out on the platform with President-elect Lincoln. Not even Willie.

  After the second stop, Beth asked Sally, “Why did you run away?”

  “I was a house slave for a rich Kentucky plantation owner. His name was Benjamin Culver,” she said. “Once Mr. Lincoln got elected, many states left the Union. But Kentucky didn’t.”

  Sally sighed. Then she said, “Master Culver feared the slave laws would change in our state. So he decided to send all his slaves to his brother’s plantation. His brother lives in South Carolina.”

  “That doesn’t seem fair,” Beth said.
<
br />   “I would be a field worker in South Carolina,” Sally said. “I didn’t want to go farther south. Kentucky is right on the border between the North and the South. It’s much closer to Canada. So I ran.”

  Patrick told them about the telegram from Jones. He said, “You can’t take the ferry across to Canada. Holman Jones will be watching. He’s probably riding straight to Buffalo on horseback.”

  Beth asked, “What will you do when we get to Buffalo?”

  “It’s a secret,” Sally said. “I’ll have to find out from the next conductor. He’s at the American Hotel. He’s a cook named Murray who is a freed slave. That’s all I know.”

  The train whistle blew one long toot. The brakes squealed.

  Willie looked out the window. “It’s mobbed,” he said. “It’s ten times the people that have been at other stops.”

  Mrs. Lincoln rose from the bunk. She picked up a small handbag with beads on it. “Everyone grab your cloaks,” she said. “A carriage will take us to the American Hotel.”

  Sally gasped. “Me too?” she asked.

  Mrs. Lincoln said, “Of course. Now hurry up. You may take the blue cloak. Keep the hood over your face in public. Others may want to collect Mr. Jones’s reward.”

  The children got ready to leave. They waited near the door to the connecting platform. Conductor Morehead was there to help them.

  Two railroad men helped Mrs. Lincoln and Sally into the carriage first. Next Tad, and then Willie.

  When Beth got to the platform, she could see the crowds behind her. They reminded her of bees in a beehive she had once seen. The worker bees had been trying to get to the queen. But now instead of buzzing, these bees were shouting at one another.

  “Quit shoving!” they said. “Where’s Lincoln? Has anyone seen him?” and “If you step on my foot again, I’ll wallop you.”

  Beth could now see the carriage. It had two white horses harnessed to the front.

  Conductor Morehead helped her into it. “Don’t slip,” he said. “There’s mud everywhere. It snowed yesterday, but it melted this morning.”