Dear Austin: Letters From the Underground Railroad

by Elvira Woodruff

  “Mercy, dat be a foolish thing you done!” Moses sighed. “Actin’ mo’ like Jupiter de baby den Jupiter de boy. Like to drive yah daddy wild -wit worry! Don't yah know yah gots to have a pass to git through dese lands? Witout dat pass dey whup de hide right off yah black back faster den yah can shuck an ear o’ corn. And now yah got de Marster John Lee Horn lookin’ fer y'all. He find us wit you and he likes to lynch de lot of us!”

  Jupiter dropped his eyes to the ground, and I knew how bad he was feeling, for it did seem as if we were in a heap of trouble. Moses took off her hat and scratched at the scarf around her head.

  “We'll rest fer a bit,” she whispered. “But only a little bit. Dis here be Horn land, and de sooner we be off it, de safer we be. You two comin’ wit us now,” she said, turning back to Jupiter and me. “I'll gity'all as far as Philadelphia, and den we sees ‘bout gettin’ in touch wit yah people. I'll send word to de folks I know and see if dey heard anythin’ ‘bout yah sister.”

  She reached under her coat and pulled out two pieces of hardtack, which she handed to us. I thought I would die of happiness at getting something to eat other than nuts and berries.

  As the others lay on the ground to rest, one of the men asked Moses if she had a map to guide her to Philadelphia. She laughed at this and said she didn't “need no maps. All's I needs is shinin’ above our heads,” she whispered, pointing up to “a bright star in the sky. I knew it was the North Star on account of its brightness.

  “It's God's light shinin’ down to guide our way,” she said. Her voice, though deep, had grown suddenly softer and more like a woman's as we sat staring up at the starlight through the trees.

  Moses went on to tell us about the cricks she knew that ran north and how if she got away from them and too far into the woods, she used the moss that grew on the north sides of the trees to guide her.

  “So you see,” she said, smiling, “the good Lord gives us all de map we needs to finds our way to freedom.”

  “Amen,” one of the men whispered, and I found myself thinking “amen” along with him. I don't know how long we could have lasted, lost like we were. I supposed Moses was right about our not being able to save Darcy, and I was grateful that we had run into someone as smart and brave as Moses to lead us back home.

  Now, if only Jupiter had been thinking like me, things might have turned out different. As it was, those were nearly the last words we were to hear from the woman called Moses, and the last moments we were to have the comfort of her protection. The light is leaving, and I will continue when I can.

  Your brother, Levi

  September 1853

  Dear Austin,

  I fear Moses was right. Jupiter and I couldn't free a horse fly from the likes of this place. Oh, Austin, it's a terrible business, this selling of people. I suppose I should first tell you how we came to leave Moses and her group.

  Everyone was dozing, and the minute Moses shut her eyes Jupiter signaled to me. I didn't know what he had in mind, but I did know he wanted me to follow him. So up we got, and I stayed close behind as Jupiter tiptoed past the silent group.

  “Wer you headed?” a deep voice suddenly purred.

  We turned back to see Moses reaching for her gun in the moonlight.

  Jupiter latched on to my arm and grabbed the front of his britches.

  “Uh, h-he's got to relieve himself,” I stammered. “And he's afeared of snakes, so I have to go along,” I quickly added.

  Moses nodded but held on to the gun. “Don't stray too far.”

  When we had made our way behind some bushes, I unbuttoned my britches. “How'd you know I had to go?” I asked Jupiter, who was standing beside me.

  He seemed impatient and pointed to a stand of pines that ran along the crick.

  “What's over there?” I asked.

  Jupiter brought his finger to my lips to silence me. Then he pointed to me and to himself and back to the crick.

  “Are you saying that you want us to leave?” I whispered.

  He quickly nodded in agreement.

  “But Jupe, you heard what she said.”

  I tried to persuade him to go back with me to Moses and the others, but he looked me in the eye and did the only thing that could have shut me up. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a little scrap of yellow hair ribbon.

  One look at that ribbon was all I needed. I knew he could never leave her alone down here, not after hearing about the whip and those “devil dogs.”

  “We best hurry afore they come looking for us,” I whispered.

  And that's how we came to be back on our own, heading south again! At least this time we had some idea of which way to go. One of the men had said that the auction was two miles south of the crick. Following Moses’ map, we found the North Star and figured which way south was. We took off for the crick, running as fast as we could. Every now and then we'd stop to catch our breath and listen. We did hear voices once, but they sounded far off, and we knew they'd be heading in the opposite direction.

  We didn't make the full two miles that night, as the woods were so overgrown it was slow going. Along the way I couldn't stop thinking about Winston, the preacher, and the Underground Railroad.

  As I started to piece things together, I began to think aloud about Miss Amelia.

  “I always wondered how she came to know so much about the Underground Railroad. And if she and the preacher were really sweet on each other, wouldn't he have told her about it? And maybe she had even helped!”

  That's -when it dawned on me.

  “All those pies!” I suddenly cried.

  Jupiter shot me a guilty look.

  “Miss Amelias pies weren't just for the preacher and his pa, were they? She was baking for the railroad, wasn't she?”

  Jupiter nodded.

  It suddenly all made perfect sense and yet made no sense, if you know what I mean. Can you believe it, Austin? Our own Miss Amelia working for the Underground Railroad!

  I couldn't get it all out of my head, and I felt cheated somehow, cheated that Miss Amelia hadn't told me herself. But as hurt as I was over Miss Amelia's secret, I didn't have time to think on it much the next day.

  At sunup the next morning, we woke with the birds that had started to sing in the branches of the trees over our heads. We found some berries to eat, but after the hardtack, my stomach was aching for real food. We were able to find the road that ran above the crick, and we followed it south, careful to keep out of sight.

  After a few hours we heard horses, wagon wheels, and singing. It weren't happy singing but rather a low, mournful tune. When we crept up to the edge of the^ woods, we could see wagons filled with slaves rolling over the dusty road. Young and old, men and women, boys and girls, and babies sleeping in their mothers’ arms. Many of the men were in chains, and some had big iron collars around their necks.

  They were herded into the wagons like cattle. Most were quiet, but a few were singing. We followed along, keeping to the bushes, until we reached a pebbled drive that ran into a yard. From the bushes we could see all manner of buggies, traps, and wagons parked at the hitching posts. There were sheds and pens, and crowds of people were gathered around platforms raised off the ground. I told Jupiter that he dare not come any farther, for if any of those slave traders saw him, there was no telling what would happen.

  We agreed that he would stay hidden in the bushes behind a shed while I went into the yard to look for Darcy. I promised that I'd get back to him and we would somehow figure out what to do next if I found her. But the farther I walked into the yard, the more uncertain I became that we would ever figure a way out.

  The first thing I passed was a platform that held a large set of scales. A man in chains stepped onto it to be weighed. The man reminded me of Winston. He was tall and strong; only his eyes were different. They stared out at the crowd, blank and empty, as if they were looking right through the people, not seeing anything at all.

  “One hundred seventy-five pounds plus chain.
Let the bidding start at seven dollars a pound!’ ‘the white man beside him shouted.

  “I'll give you five hundred!” a heavyset man in a wide leather hat called.

  “Why, I couldn't let him go at that price,” the auctioneer replied, spitting a plug of tobacco off the platform. “Just have a look at his back,” he said, turning the man around and pulling up his shirt. “Those are old scars. This buck had the wildness whipped out of him long ago. He's been broken in, and all you have to do is set him down in your fields. Why, he's been bred for the fields, can't y'all see that? Who'll give me eight hundred dollars?”

  I hurried past them and came to a row of pens. I was expecting to see pigs or cattle in them, but instead they were filled with people! The stench and dirt was something terrible. There were babies crying, whips cracking, men shouting out bids and spitting juice. A woman was pleading not to be separated from her children, and there was a boy about your age whose back was so scarred from whip marks I had to turn away and could not look.

  I kept searching for Darcy, hoping to catch sight of those yellow ribbons of hers. I stood watching and waiting as a pen was opened and an overseer cracked his big blacksnake whip.

  “Halls,” he shouted. “Elizabeth, Nell, and Parilee.”

  A woman came out of the pen with two little girls. The overseer cracked the “whip beside the woman's feet, and she nearly jumped onto the platform. The little girls held on to her skirts.

  “Now, we can sell ‘em as a lot, two thousand dollars, or we can split ‘em up,” the auctioneer called. “You're lookin’ at a healthy breeding wench, not a day over twenty. Take the young ‘uns as a pair, to be raised up for the house or field or however you can use ‘em.”

  The little girls clung to their mother, with their heads buried in her skirts.

  A trader stepped up to the platform and put on a pair of white gloves. He nodded to the woman, and the overseer cracked his whip.

  “Open your mouth,” the auctioneer barked.

  The woman opened her mouth, and the trader ran his fingers over her teeth, just like he was examining a horse.

  “Cupworms in her teeth,” the trader grumbled out loud. “She's closer to thirty than twenty. I'll give you five hundred for her, but I don't need the rest.”

  “Do I hear six hundred?” the auctioneer shouted. The woman began to sob and shake, and the little girls started to cry as they were pulled from her. I felt my stomach tighten into knots as I realized the only thing that was keeping me from being up there on that auction block was the whiteness of my skin. And you know, Austin, I looked down at my hands then, my white hands, and I felt such shame.

  “Son, if you ain't buying, you best make room for one who is,” a bearded man growled as he leaned beside me. His breath was hot and smelled of whiskey.

  I stepped to the side and heard a young girl's voice call, “Levi!”

  I spun around to see a dirty canvas curtain pinned over a set of stalls. I heard the voice again, but I couldn't make out the words. Was she calling “Levi” or “Eli”? Was it Darcy or someone who sounded like her? There were so many voices and so much noise it was impossible to tell.

  “Darcy,” I shouted. “Darcy, are you in there?” I suddenly recalled all the times I had told her to hush up, all the times I had wished she'd leave us alone and stop making so much noise, and I felt my heart twist in my chest at the memory.

  “Darcy!” I pleaded. “It's me, Levi. Just let me know if you're there.”

  I couldn't see the faces inside the stalls, and the overseer told me, “Move aside, and stop disturbing the stock.” Then he cracked his whip and lifted the curtain.

  “Stock”—that's how they think of them. That's how they were thinking of Darcy. How could these men, these grown men, be so wrongheaded, Austin? How does that happen? I may only be a boy, but I know the difference between an animal and a little girl. And to be truthful, Austin, these men were treating these people worse than animals.

  I stood on the edge of a trough so I could get a good look, but there were too many people packed in and not enough time to see them all afore the curtain came back down. The voice I had thought to be Darcy's was lost in all of the shouting and sobbing.

  When I realized that there were at least ten of these pens and platforms, with bidding going on all at the same time, my hopes sank. How could I watch all of them? How was I ever to find Darcy—if she was here? I dreaded going back to Jupiter with this news. But I knew he'd be anxious by now and so I headed back to the bushes where I'd left him.

  But when I got there, he was gone! I searched everywhere but couldn't find him. I was desperate with worry, and my head was reeling with questions. Had he gotten scared and decided to wait back in the woods? Had he hoped to hook back up with Moses and her group? Why hadn't he waited for me? It wasn't long afore I had my answers, for as I stood with my back to a platform, I heard an auctioneer call out:

  “What'11 you give fer this healthy-looking young buck? Why, jest look at his back. Not a mark on it, no sir.”

  I was about to walk away when I heard the auctioneer's excited voice declare, “And he comes with this here finely carved walking stick—bet he worked it himself. Why, this little bird at the top looks like it's ready to take to the sky. That's a talent with wood, that is. Just how talented are you, young buck? Let's see how talented you are with your feet. Can you dance for these fine folks?” The overseer cracked his whip and the crowd roared with laughter.

  Stunned, I turned my head in time to see the auctioneer waving Darcy's walking stick in the air. And beside him on the platform stood Jupiter, stripped to the waist, his eyes wide with fear as the overseer's whip cracked across his legs.

  “Oh, Jupe!” I cried. “Oh, no! Oh, no!” I am out of paper and can write no more.

  Levi

  September 1853

  Dear Austin,

  I found this auction bill and so am writing you a letter on the back. Jupiter was about to be sold off, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

  “He's not a buck! He's a boy!” I shouted at the auctioneer. “He's a boy, and he's got a name. His name is Jupiter Hale.”

  I felt my heart pounding against my chest as everyone turned to stare at me.

  “Well, thank you, son, fer that powerful piece of information.” The auctioneer flashed a smile, but I could see his anger boiling behind his grin. “Truth is, this ain't no church social, so if you ain't biddin’, you best keep quiet, lest you get mixed up with those that are.”

  They don't want to know him, I thought as two men beside me stepped forward to get a closer look. They don't want to know him at all.

  He's Jupiter! I wanted to shout at them. He can talk without words. He's got a dog called Whistle and a sister named Darcy. He can dive off Widow's Rock and whittle better than anyone I know. He's afraid of snakes, but he's brave enough to walk through a swamp full of them and gators, too.

  But I didn't say any of those things. Instead I just stood there silent and helpless as the auctioneer started the bidding again. My eyes shot back to Jupiter, whose forehead was beading with sweat. His eyes were big and glassy with fear, and he was trembling badly.

  If only we had stayed home, Jupe, I thought. If only we had stayed home.

  But we were a long way from Sudbury. He was standing up there all alone, just as he had done at Widow's Rock. Only this was worse, much worse, because this wasn't going to end with one dive. This could go on and on for the rest of his life! I remem-bered Possum's brother telling us about the slaves sold to the cotton fields and how badly they were treated. How their entire lives were used up and spent under the lash of an overseer's bullwhip. I shuddered at the thought of Jupiter's life taken away from him like that.

  A man beside me called out, “Three hundred dollars.” A voice in the back of the crowd called out, “Four.”

  “I have four, do I hear five?” the auctioneer shouted.

  Jupiter bit down on his lip as the overseer tugged on the rope that bo
und his hands. I felt a fit of hiccups coming on, but I shook them off. Jupiter was doing his best to stay strong, and I had to dp the same.

  “Four going once, going twice…”

  My eyes filled with tears, so that I couldn't see.

  “Be still, oh, mah heart,” a voice suddenly sang out from the back of the crowd. “I'll give you five hundred dollars.”

  “Sold!” the auctioneer declared, lowering his gavel on the wooden podium in front of him.

  I climbed back up on the edge of a water trough and was able to see the crowd parting as men tried to steer clear of the latest buyer. A buyer wearing a corn-shuck hat and carrying a powerful stink on him!

  “Fergus!” I cried, jumping off the trough.

  For it was Fergus! Fergus T. McGrath himself, who had bid on and bought Jupiter for five hundred dollars! And you know, Austin, I didn't care how bad he smelled. He was the sweetest sight I ever laid eyes on, and I told him so.

  We made our way up to the platform to free Jupiter, and while I used my knife to cut the ropes around his wrists, Fergus dealt with the auctioneer, who would not let go of Darcy's walking stick. I think the stink on Fergus was so strong that the auctioneer finally gave it up in desperation just to be rid of him. Just then a strong black hand reached out for Jupiter, and I looked up to see Winston standing afore us! Preacher Tully was at his side. That's when we discovered that it wasn't Fergus who had put up the money to buy Jupiter, but rather Winston and Preacher Tully!

  The preacher explained it all. He told us how he and Winston had come down looking for us. They had made it all the way into the state of North Carolina when the axle on the preacher's wagon broke. A short spell later Fergus stopped by to offer his help. But the axle was beyond anything they could repair, so Fergus offered to give Winston and the preacher a lift to the nearest town.

  It wasn't until they had gotten into the back of the wagon that Winston recognized my old turnip head sticking out from behind the crate of chickens!