A Deeper Sense of Loyalty (10 page)

It was time to stop again and rest the mare. James climbed down and stretched his tired limbs. It had been about ten hours since leaving Crawford's farm and he was getting hungry as well as sleepy. But he felt that something more than mere fatigue was setting in. It wasn't just the soreness in his back, but more of an aching feeling all over. His eyes were watery and his throat felt a bit sore when he swallowed. The early morning air was chilly and he was shivering.

There was no sound from the back of the wagon; James assumed that the slaves were asleep. Fortunately, with the four of them close together and covered by the canvas, they would generate enough body heat to stay relatively warm.

As James was becoming slightly impatient and a little irritable, he cut the rest stop short and climbed back in the wagon. The mare walked along at an easy speed while James dozed in the seat. An hour later, he perked up considerably when he opened his eyes and saw a sign along the road that said: Mason-Dixon Line. He drove across it and stopped the wagon again—this time on Pennsylvania soil. Then he turned in the seat and woke his passengers with a gleeful shout. The canvas was thrown back; the startled slaves sat up and looked around as if they expected to be surrounded by a lynch mob. “I am sorry if I scared you, my friends,” said James. “But I thought that you might like to have your first look at freedom.” The announcement seemed to startle them even more, and then Darnell finally spoke up and said, “Do you mean, sir—”

“I mean, sir,” James interrupted, “that we have crossed the line and are now in Pennsylvania. We have officially left the South behind and slavery along with it.”

For the first time, the sound of unbridled joy burst forth from the four ex-slaves and they acted like children on the last day of school. “I gots ta feel dat ground under my feet,” shouted Darnell. And truly he did when he jumped from the wagon because he was still without shoes. Then Buck joined him, then Emmy and Tisha. They danced and sang with such spirit that James thought God himself must have whispered an invitation to heaven in their ears. At length, James broke up the celebration and asked them to get a fire started for breakfast. “We still have some ground to cover before you reach your new home.”

It was a meal with all the gaiety of a party, with thanksgiving and homage thrown in for good measure. The only dark shadow that was cast upon it was the fact that James was feeling worse by the minute. His appetite had faded and he ate very little. In spite of the cooler climate he was sweating profusely and he felt unsteady on his feet. He did his best to keep his condition from the others because he did not wish to throw a damper on their excitement. By the time they were ready to move on very sharp pains had begun to invade his lower abdomen. As he attempted to climb up to the wagon seat he turned suddenly, claiming that he had to relieve himself, ran off the road, found privacy behind a large evergreen tree, and vomited.

When he got back to the wagon they noticed he was very pale and he could no longer hide the truth from them.

“You looks mighty, ill, Mr. Bill,” said Buck. “You gots to lie down and rest, sir.” James didn't say so, but he felt that if he did lie down he might not get back up again.

“No,” said James. “We'll see if the next town we come to has a doctor.”

Somehow, he managed to get into the wagon, but as they started down the road he nearly doubled over in pain.

After an agonizing five miles, they came to a peaceful looking little village called Mapletown. Barely conscious, James held on long enough to pull the horse to a stop in front of the first building on the right side of the road, and then everything went black.

When James regained consciousness, he lay very still and allowed his eyes to roam the surroundings, searching for a clue that might tell him where he was. The room he was in was small and immaculate, with pure white walls and a matching ceiling with a very steep pitch. He was lying in a real bed with a thick pillow, covered by a wool blanket, atop a mattress that felt as if it were stuffed with cotton. To his left was a small table with a pitcher and bowl; to his right was a large leather chair. The room had one window and one door over top of which hung a crucifix.

When he felt like he was fully awake he tried to sit up, which proved to be a big mistake. His right side was very sore as if he'd been kicked by a mule. Once he realized that he could not rise, his next thought was of the slaves. Where were they and were they safe?

Consistent with someone who has blacked out, James tried to retrace his steps in order to figure out what had happened. He remembered making it into Pennsylvania and he remembered feeling very sick. But he didn't remember stopping anywhere or anything that had happened since. As his anxiety increased he tried to call out in an attempt to get someone's attention. But the pain in his side was so severe that he could not take a breath deep enough to put any volume into his voice.

Fortunately, it was not long before the door opened and in walked a middle aged woman wearing a lovely print dress with a white collar and something resembling a little white doily on her head. She also wore a spotless white apron and she carried a pot holder with a steaming bowl sitting on it. She had a comforting smile and looked very pleased when she saw that James was awake. After seating herself in the big leather chair she said, “I have some nourishing soup for you, son, but I'd better let it cool for a bit. How are you feeling today?”

“I feel a bit stiff and my right side is very sore. But that isn't what's bothering me most. What happened and where are the people who came here with me?”

“You were deathly ill when you got here, son,” she explained. “When my husband and I saw the condition you were in, we sent for Dr. Pierce immediately. Thanks be to God that he is also a skilled surgeon because you were sick with an acute appendicitis. He told us that if you had gotten here any later you would have died because your appendix was about to burst. It was, I believe, your friend Darnell who came pounding on our door begging for assistance.”

“Yes,” said James. “Where are Darnell and Buck and Emmy and Tisha? Are they all right?”

“Yes,” she replied. They are in very good hands.”

“Can I see them?”

“Oh, no, son. I'm afraid that they are gone.”

Panic hit James like a sledge hammer. He tried again to rise but the pain caused him to drop like a rock.

“Gone!” he shrieked. “Gone where! What have you done with them?”

“Please, son. There is no need to worry. By now your friends are halfway to Canada.”

“Canada?”

“Yes. My husband made the arrangements.”

“And who might your husband be?”

“My husband is the Reverend Percy Pyle. I am Mrs. Pyle. You are in the parsonage of the Mapletown Community Church.”

“I can't believe that they are gone,” said James. “It was my intention to take them to Canada myself.”

“Yes, I know,” said the reverend's wife. “Darnell told us the whole story. It was a most wonderful thing that you did for those people. They will never forget you, Mr. Mason.”

“You say that they are halfway there? How long have I been here?”

“Two days,” she replied.

James was calming down a little. He was glad that their journey had not been delayed because of him but he was very sad that he did not get the chance to say goodbye. Surely good fortune had brought them to Reverend Pyle and his wife. Then he began to reflect on the trip and he thought about the farmer, Tyson Crawford. He remembered how he had misplaced his trust in that man. “I want to see your husband,” said James. “I want to see him now.”

“At this time, the reverend would be in the middle of his morning service. He will be here as soon as he is through. He wishes to see you also. For now, this soup has cooled and you must try to eat.”

James was becoming anxious again but he was in no shape to be obstinate. He was in a fix and he could not help
himself
let alone try to be sure that his friends were indeed on their way to Canada. He would try Mrs. Pyle's soup and wait for her husband.

 

In a little while, the door opened again, and a tall man in a black suit entered the room carrying a stovepipe hat in one hand and a bible in the other. Like his wife, he wore a pleasant smile and his manner was quite congenial.

“Mrs. Pyle tells me that you were able to finish a sizable bowl of soup,” he said as he seated himself in the leather chair.

“Yes, sir. The soup was very good.”

“Mrs. Pyle is a wonderful cook. That isn't why I married her, but it certainly has made our relationship more enjoyable,” he said, showing another smile. “She also tells me that you are worried about your Negro friends.”

“I am, for a fact,” said James. “I apologize if I seem a bit irritable and I
am
very grateful for all you've done. But during our trip I learned that trusting people can get you into a lot of trouble.”

“Sadly, that can be the case. It was a courageous and selfless act that you performed and you are to be commended for your effort. I can assure you that your friends are in the very best of company. When you are able to get out of bed I will show you something that will put your mind at ease, but for now I have a letter I want to read. It is a letter to you, dictated by your friends before they left. I helped them with some of the words but the sentiments are purely their own.” The reverend took a piece of paper from his pocket, unfolded it, and began to read.

“Dear Mr. Bill,

As overjoyed as we are that we will soon be free men and women, we are very sad to be leaving you while you are so sick and without a proper chance to say goodbye. We owe our lives and what the future might bring to you and your kindness of heart. We must face the fact that it is unlikely we will ever meet again. But remember that you will always have our undying gratitude and that you will never be forgotten. May God bless you.

Sincerely,

Darnell, Buck, Emmy & Tisha”

By the time the reverend had finished reading the letter, James could feel a lump in his throat and a single tear was sliding down his cheek. He thanked Reverend Pyle for helping with the letter but when he tried to give it to James to keep, he said, “No, sir. I want to, but I'd better not. I couldn't risk the possibility of it being found in my possession.”

“I understand,” said the reverend. “It could be difficult to explain. Now you rest, Mr. Mason. Mrs. Pyle will bring you some supper a little later.”

After a week of peaceful rest and blissful slumber, not to mention Mrs. Pyle's cooking, James was out of bed and getting around with only slight discomfort. As usual, when Reverend Pyle concluded his morning service, he stopped to pay a visit.

“It's good to see you back on your feet, William. I promised to show you something. Would you care to take a little walk with me?”

Together, they left the parsonage and strolled next door to the church. It was a lovely day and James was feeling strong and anxious to be on his way. The reverend led the way inside and James followed him back behind the pulpit. Pointing to the floor he said, “How do you like this rug? It is thick and very comfortable to stand on when I deliver my sermon.”

“Yes, sir, it is nice,” said James, wondering if the rug was what the reverend had promised to show him. Then the reverend bent over, took hold of the rug, and pulled it aside to reveal a trapdoor in the hardwood floor. With James's help the door was opened. The reverend lit a coal oil lamp and led the way down a set of steps to a cellar. To James's surprise, he could see by the light of the lamp that the entire area under the church was one large room. The floor was covered by bricks laid tightly together to form a smooth, clean surface. In the center of the room was a large wooden table with benches on either side. Along both side walls there were beds sitting end to end complete with stuffed mattresses, blankets, and pillows. Against the front wall were wooden shelves piled high with clothing.

“This is what I wanted you to see, William. This church was a station on the Underground Railroad for years. You've heard of the Underground Railroad?”

“Yes, sir. I have read about it, stories in New York newspapers,” said James.

“For the most part, the railroad has ceased to operate. It has been more than six months since I have had runaways in the church. I was very surprised when you showed up here with your friends. I realize, of course, that it was by accident. But I am still prepared to lend assistance if I am called upon. I have a friend who owns a covered wagon. He would transport the slaves to Erie to the home of another man who took them by boat across Lake Erie to Ontario. I made those same arrangements for your people.”

James was impressed. He was satisfied that he no longer had to worry about Darnell, Buck, Emmy, and Tisha. They climbed back up the stairs, lowered the trapdoor, and replaced the heavy rug. Outside again, James told his gracious host, “I would like to be heading back to Georgia. There is so much more to be done.”

“I take it,” said Reverend Pyle, “that I will be seeing you again?”

“Yes, sir, you will. Until I'm caught and hanged or until slavery is wiped out of existence I will continue to do what I can.”

“You are a rare find, William. To care so much about your fellow man; to be willing to sacrifice your own life for your cause; it is becoming rare in this world. Dr. Pierce will be here tomorrow morning to see you. Please wait for his opinion. If he says you are ready to travel you can be on your way.”

Early the next morning, Dr. Pierce gave James a thorough examination. When the doctor was finished he declared James fit to leave. James thanked Mrs. Pyle for the wonderful care and told her that, God willing, he would be back again. Reverend Pyle walked with James to the barn behind the parsonage where he helped to hitch up the wagon. Then he handed him a piece of paper and said, “This is a list of other stations between here and Georgia. There is no certainty that they are still operating or that the same people live there, so be sure to use the verification method I taught you. If nothing has changed I am sure you can still count on these locations for assistance. If you find yourself near one of them and in need of help, don't hesitate to go there. But please memorize the list as quickly as possible and then destroy it. It would be dangerous to a lot of people if it fell into the wrong hands. Be ever so careful as you travel back and forth. There are many hands against you.”