A Deeper Sense of Loyalty (7 page)

Back at the farm, James had parked the horse and wagon on the road for a reason. There would be no tracks leaving the road and then returning to it. If the law did assume the slaves were on foot and tried to track them with dogs, they would never catch up. Most likely, the biggest threat would be the telegraph line. A description of the slaves would surely be sent to points ahead of them and the telegraph was something they could not outrun. Hopefully, James could offset that disadvantage. If he was stopped and questioned by anyone, he hoped to bluff his way through by explaining that he had picked up the information, captured the fugitives, and was returning them himself. After all, he was posing as a slave catcher. He needed to learn to act like one.

While the horse rested, James turned to his passengers and said, “Are you folks all right back there?” The man he had first awakened at the farm looked up and replied, “We is fine, mister.”

“My name is William,” James told them. “Call me Bill.”

“Yes sir, Mr. Bill.”

“We'll be leaving in a few minutes. We have to get as far away as we can before Mr. Turner knows you're gone.”

“We understands, Mr. Bill. Ole Turner will most have hiself a real bad angry when he find out. He will surely come a runnin with his whip.”

“Well, I will do all I can to make sure that you never see that whip again. I have to ask you to do something now that I really don't care for, but I think it's a good idea.”

“What is dat, Mr. Bill?”

James handed him two sets of manacles and said, “Put these on. If anyone stops us I want them to think that you are in my custody.”

“Cusadee?”

“Yes. That means that I caught you.”

“Oh, I understands, and you is right, sir.”

“Cuff yourself to your wife and have the other man do the same. We have to get started again.” James steered the horse back onto the road and got her moving at a quick but steady pace. After another four hours of traveling, and one more stop to water the animal and let her graze by the road's edge, the sun was on its way up. James was hungry and his eyelids had become very heavy. They were passing through an area with woods on both sides of the road.

Just ahead on the left, James could see a rutted trail leading into the trees. Hoping that it did not lead to a dwelling, he left the road and started slowly down the trail. It led a few hundred yards to an open field enclosed by woods on all four sides. He turned right along the edge of the trees and stopped a short distance from the trail. Turning around in his seat, he got a good look at all of the slaves for the first time. The two men, James learned, were called Buck and Darnell. The two women, Tisha, Buck's wife, and Emmy, Darnell's wife, looked to be in their thirties. Both were thin and calloused, no doubt from years of hard work and neglect. They stared at James as wide eyed as children. He suspected that they were as frightened as they were amazed to find themselves runaways in the company of some strange white man. “We'll stay here for part of the day,” said James. “I didn't bring a lot to eat; I planned to pick up supplies along the way as we need them. I have some dried beef and coffee.”

“Don't worry bout dat, Mr. Bill,” said Darnell. “Vittles is mostly what we done brought along. We gots bread and pone; we gots dried peas, some salt pork, and some little bitty cakes Emmy done made. We be glad to share.”

“Sure would,” said Buck.

“That sounds fine,” James replied. “Can you get a fire started while I tend to the mare and we'll have some breakfast?”

“We gonna get it all ready,” Darnell assured him.

James removed the manacles, then unhitched the horse and tied her so that she could reach plenty of grass. He got a bucket from the wagon and filled it with water from a partially dry creek that ran through the woods.

By the time he had the horse taken care of, the coffee was hot and there was food on the tin plates that Buck and Tisha brought with them. From time to time, James could hear traffic on the road, but their camp could not be seen from that far away. Of course, he didn't know who owned the property they were on; he just hoped that the owners would have no reason to come there until they could rest and move on.

As they ate their meal, James could not help noticing that Emmy was staring at him. Finally she spoke her mind. “Mr. Bill, when I thinks about bein a slave and when I thinks about goin to a place where I can live free, I feel like my heart might bust right outta my chest. I hopes you knows how much we is obliged. But I prays you won't hold nuthin agin me if I ax you, why is you doin this for us?” Emmy's comments touched James very deeply.

“I can understand how you feel, Emmy. It is simple and yet difficult at the same time. It is simple to tell you why, but difficult for you to believe. My family owns a large plantation near Macon. I grew up believing that the Negroes that worked there did so as any white man would; by their own choice and under the same conditions. I believed it because my father convinced me that it was so. When I found out they were slaves and were treated as such; when I found out they were mistreated even when they did what was expected of them, sometimes beaten or even killed because they wanted to be free, I could not accept it. It was hard enough to see how other whites treated their slaves. When I saw with my own eyes that it was no different on my family's plantation, I made up my mind that I was going to do something about it. You may not have ever heard of the United States Constitution, but it is a document written by the people who started this country. It is a document by which we live, and the Constitution says that all men are created equal and that freedom is for all men. I guess you could say that I intend to hold the Constitution to its promise. No man or woman should be a slave, and God willing, someday no man or woman will be.”

“May God bless you, Mr. Bill. Even ifn we don't make it, God bless you.”

“We'll make it, Emmy. Well, let's clean this up now and get some rest.”

“We all did some sleepin in da wagon, Mr. Bill,” said Darnell. “When we is in da wagon we sleep some more. Now it be your turn. You sleep and we keep watch for trouble.”

“All right, that is a good plan. When the sun is straight up over our heads, you wake me.”

“I promise dat,” said Darnell. James crawled into the back of the wagon, made himself as comfortable as possible, and quickly fell asleep.

It seemed like just a short time later that Darnell was waking him, but checking his watch, he saw that he had slept for more than six hours. They wasted no time hitching up the wagon and clearing the campsite so that no one could tell they'd been there. When all was ready, James cuffed the couples together again and they started through the woods to the main road.

They hadn't gone far before James saw a horse and rider approaching. When the rider got closer, James stopped the wagon and raised his left hand into the air. The stranger complied with the signal and reined in beside them. “Afternoon,” said the man as he touched a finger to the brim of his hat. “Where are you heading?”

“I'm heading to Virginia,” James replied.

“Virginia? Damn, but you got a long way to go.”

“You bet,” said James. “But the money is good and we all need money.”

“No question about it, young fellow. But if you want to sell those niggers, you don't have to go the whole way to Virginia.”

“I'm not selling them, I'm delivering them. They ran off from their owner and they managed to get a fair piece away. The only trouble was they ran in the wrong direction. I caught up with them hiding out near Atlanta.” James thought the man would fall off his horse from laughing so hard.

“I do believe that's the funniest thing I ever heard. Is it any wonder that they're slaves? Anything that stupid couldn't be nothing else. So they ran the wrong way.” Then he broke into a hardy laugh again, which was beginning to get on James's nerves.

“How far is it to the South Carolina line?”

“Not so far,” said the stranger. “Maybe fifteen miles or so. Barnesville is just up the road a piece if you're looking for a town.”

“No,” said James. “I'm not figuring on stopping until I reach Greenville.”

“Well I'll say good luck to you, young fellow. I gotta be going.” With that, the man rode off, still laughing to himself.

James continued up the road. Soon after, they rolled through Barnesville, then a few smaller villages, and by five o'clock that afternoon, they were just outside Greenville.

James knew that Greenville was much larger than most of the other towns along the way and he felt uneasy about taking the slaves through until he had a look around. Greenville would have a telegraph office and might have received news of the escape by now. He pulled the wagon to the side of the road to think it over.

To their right was a hayfield with a small grove of trees about a hundred yards from the road. It looked like a good spot for four people to hide.

“Darnell.”

“Yes sir, Mr. Bill.”

“I want you and Buck to take your wives and hide in that clump of trees over there. I'm going into town alone. I'll only be gone about an hour, maybe a little more. Take some dried beef and a canteen with you. It might be a while before we have another meal.” The two men helped their wives out of the wagon. James removed the manacles and said, “I'll drive the wagon over and pick you up when I get back. Now hurry over there before someone comes along.” He waited until the slaves had safely disappeared into the trees, then he headed into town.

  

 

 

SIX

 

Learning Experience

 

 

Greenville was alive with activity; the streets were filled with horses, wagons, carriages, and people. James noticed Confederate soldiers standing in front of the recruiting office. It was his first reminder of the war. Then he saw the Confederate flag flying atop the courthouse. He kept walking; it was the sheriff's office and a dry goods store that he was interested in.

He located the sheriff's office first. After tying the mare to the hitching rail, he stepped up onto the boardwalk. Hanging on the front wall of the building was a posting board covered with wanted posters and other notices of public interest. James scanned the board looking for information concerning runaway slaves. There were several such notices, and after reading a few, much to his dismay, he found what he was hoping he wouldn't.

He read a notice carrying a reward for four escaped slaves, two males and two females. It gave a description of each one and even included their names. The owner, Silas Turner, was listed as well as the location they had escaped from. The only good news was that there was no mention of an accomplice or that they might be traveling by wagon. But his companions had made the wanted list, and surely, there would be those who would be trying to collect the reward.

 When he was through absorbing the information he turned and collided with a large, bearded ruffian who had been standing right behind him, peering over his shoulder. “Pardon me, mister,” said James. “I didn't know you were there.”

The man smiled, but not in the interest of being friendly, revealing a partial set of teeth that were stained as brown as mud. His hair was long and greasy and he had a deep scar above his left eye that ran down along his nose almost to the end. He wore ragged buckskin clothing and moccasins. A holstered pistol and a sheath holding a large knife hung on a belt around his bulging middle.

“You seem mighty interested in that paper,” he said. “Makes me think you might know where them niggers is.”

James tried to appear calm and make his voice sound tough when he said, “Wish to hell I did. I'd drag them back to Georgia quick and collect that money.”

“You don't look like no slave catcher to me, boy,” the ruffian replied.

“Things don't always look like what they really are, mister.” Then James turned quickly and walked away before the unkempt giant could say another word. He did not wish to have the man see him get into his wagon. Fortunately, the post office was only two doors down from the sheriff's office and James had the letter to his family that he needed to send. He took his time inside, and when he returned to the boardwalk the rough looking man was nowhere to be seen.

James got into the wagon and drove down the crowded street until he located a store where he could buy some supplies. As he tied up the horse again he heard the sound of distant thunder. The sun was still shining but a strong breeze was coming up, blowing swirls of dust around in the street. He went into the store and recited a short list of goods to one of the clerks behind the counter. He looked around while he waited, and after a few minutes he heard thunder again; this time much closer. Aside from the food supplies, James purchased a rain slicker and a piece of canvas, ten feet long and six feet wide. It took two trips to get his goods loaded in the wagon, and when he was finished, he climbed in and headed out of town in the direction from which he'd come.

By now it was only half past six, but under the heavy cloud cover that had moved in it was getting dark fast. The thunder rumbled, the lightning flashed, and the wind blew harder.

James was not far out of town when he thought he could hear hoof beats somewhere behind him. But the impending storm made so much noise that it was difficult to tell for sure. It was no more than three miles to the spot where he'd left the slaves hiding in the grove of trees. The storm was turning violent now: the thunder crashed directly overhead, the lightning lit up the heavens, but as yet, it was not raining.

About two miles from town, James looked ahead for the hayfield and the grove of trees. Slowing his speed a bit, he looked back towards town just as the lightning lit the area like midday. A scare ran through him as if he'd been struck by the bolt when he saw that he was indeed being followed. He did not need to wonder who it was. He was sure it would have to be the tough looking customer he'd literally run into at the sheriff's office and he was pretty sure that there was more than one horse and rider behind him.