Jump Ship To Freedom Part 7

I didn't know exactly who Mr. Few was or what he was talking about, but it had to do with the convention, that was pretty clear. Some way, he and Mr. Fatherscreft was bargaining out what would happen to us black people if a new const.i.tution got written. It was sort of queer that it was all going to be decided by white folks, and us black folks wouldn't have no say in it at all. But we had to be thankful that at least there was some white people around like Mr. Fatherscreft who was on our side and would try to get the best bargain he could for us.

"What about prohibiting the further importation of slaves?" Mr. Fatherscreft said.

"We'll support a compromise that blocks any interference with the foreign slave trade for twenty years," Mr. Few said.

"And after that, William?"

"We wish the question of the further importation of Negroes to be left open after the twenty-year period. It can be taken up again then. Let the next generation decide whether Negroes shall or shall not be imported."

Mr. Fatherscreft didn't say nothing but lay in his bed, staring down at his hands. "My people were hoping for something better, William. We didn't expect that the new const.i.tution would prohibit slavery now, but we were hoping that we could see that happening in the near future."

Mr. Few pursed his lips. "There's too much opposition. The big planters see the whole agricultural system as based on slavery. They can't bargain this away. They won't interfere if the Northern states decide to give up their own slaves, but the Southerners can't allow themselves to be put in a position where someday a group of new states will vote against them."

"In other words we're going to create a country with slave labor in the South and free labor in the north-a country divided from its first day."

"It is the best compromise we can get, Peter."

Mr. Fatherscreft sighed. "And what about the fugitive-slave law?"

"We must have it. The more Northern country that's free territory, the easier it'll be for Southern blacks to run away. Why, with this compromise all they have to do is paddle across the Ohio River to get to free soil. Hundreds, maybe thousands, are running away every year as it is. We've got to protect our property. That's what a government is for, isn't it? And these black folks are our most valuable property. The Northerners will have to agree to help us recover the runaways."

Mr. Fatherscreft shook his head. "It's asking too much, William. It'll rankle those of us who are opposed to slavery to be forced to a.s.sist in returning fugitives to their owners."

Suddenly it struck me that they was talking about me. I was a fugitive slave. I'd run off, there was no question about that, even if I did mean to go back and pay Captain Ivers for myself. I was a fugitive slave, and if the const.i.tution came out the way Mr. Few wanted it, why, Mr. Fatherscreft and Mr. Fraunces would be obliged by law to turn me back to Captain Ivers or risk going to jail themselves.

"I understand the feelings of your people, Peter. You know I lived many years among Quakers. But in the Congress, I represent the state of Georgia. And I have to tell you that in the South there's the fear that anti-slavery folks will encourage slaves to run away unless there are strong measures taken to prevent it."

"Isn't there any way around it, William?"

"I'm afraid not."

There it was. They'd bargained away the chance for thousands of black folks to escape, me included. The minute the const.i.tution was agreed to, anybody who knew me would be bound by law to catch me and send me back to the Iverses in chains. Oh, it made me sad and sick to think of it. But there wasn't anything I could do about it. To them, I was just a fugitive slave and didn't matter more'n an ant matters to a dog. I didn't want to hear any more of it, either. They wasn't paying attention to me, so I opened the door real quiet, slipped out of the room, and went on down the back stairs to the kitchen.

I tell you, I was pretty mixed up in my feelings. On the one hand, they'd bargained us blacks into slavery forever. On the other hand, if there was no bargain, maybe there'd be no new government and my soldiers' notes wouldn't be worth a penny.

I went back down to the stables, found the oil-cloth with the notes in it, and tucked it under my shirt. Then they gave me a rag and some water and sent me out front to wash the windows along the Broad Street side. After a while Mr. Fraunces and Mr. Few came down and got into a carriage and went off. Mr. Fraunces gave me a look as he pa.s.sed by, but he didn't say nothing. Then around lunchtime Nosy came out with her barrow and headed off to the docks for fish.

Polishing windows was easy work, so I went slow and careful to make it last longer. And I was still working on the Broad Street side when Nosy came back with her barrow. I was glad to see her. When you got down to it, she was the best friend I had there-maybe the only one, too. She was all right, even if she was just a child, and nosy in the bargain. "Hey, Nosy," I said. "How about stealing me a roll when you're in the kitchen."

"You can't get yourself in enough trouble, you got to get me in some, too, Dan?"

"And get a nice big piece of cheese, too."

She stuck out her tongue at me, and I started to laugh. But then I stopped right quick, for coming along Broad Street about fifty feet behind Nosy was Captain Ivers and Big Tom. Quick as a flash I ducked into the front door, dashed through the dining room, and went on up the back stairs, but I knew they'd spotted me, for as I went through the door I heard Captain Ivers shout my name. I flew up the stairs, ran into Mr. Fatherscreft's room, slammed the door, and flung the bolt to.

"Daniel?" Mr. Fatherscreft said.

"It's them. Captain Ivers and Big Tom. They came to the tavern."

"Did they see thee?"

"Yes," I gasped out. My heart was pounding and my knees was shaking. "They'll be prowling around looking for me right this minute."

"Well. Now. What's to be done?"

"I don't know, sir. When are we supposed to leave for Philadelphia?"

"As soon as we can. We and the Southern interests have reached our compromise agreement. It's not what I had hoped for, but it's the best we can get. I must go immediately and bring the agreement to the delegates at the convention to act on. I would like to leave this evening." Suddenly he put his fist to his mouth and began a fit of coughing.

I waited until he calmed down some. "Sir, you ain't fit for traveling," I said.

"It doesn't matter," he said. He swallowed some rum. "I'm well enough."

"Maybe somebody else could take the message for you."

"It has to come from me. I was the one empowered to negotiate for our side. They won't trust a stranger."

"I just wish you wasn't coughing so bad, sir."

"It's nothing. The rum helps. Now, dost thou suppose thy companions from the brig have left?"

I shook my head. "No, sir. If I know Captain Ivers, he'll be downstairs keeping a lookout for me. I'm worth a lot of money to him. He ain't going to let that go easy."

"Dost thou think thou can get away?"

"I sure have to try," I said. "They'll catch me sooner or later if I stay here." I was plenty scared.

"Yes," he said. "But thy father was brave, and thou'll be brave, too."

He sure seemed to know a lot about my daddy. "How did you get to meet him, sir?" I asked.

"Oh, that lawsuit thy father won was well known among those of us working against slavery."

"The one to get his freedom from Captain Ivers?"

"It was quite important to the Negroes' cause."

"I didn't know that," I said.

"Thy father enlisted in the army with the understanding that he would be set free at the end of his service."

"Why would Captain Ivers do that?"

"Oh, the captain wanted thy father to go as a subst.i.tute for him."

"So he wouldn't have to fight himself?"

"It was a common practice during the war among those who could afford it to pay somebody to fight in their places. Or, as in this case, offer a Negro slave his freedom if he would go. I believe that some three hundred blacks from Connecticut alone fought in the Revolution. A great many of them went as subst.i.tutes, just as thy father did. Thy father's lawsuit was important in making sure that those who did were granted their freedom." He put his fist over his mouth and had another burst of coughing.

"Wouldn't you take a chance of getting killed if you went as somebody's subst.i.tute?" I said.

"Oh, yes. Many did. Thy father was lucky. He served with distinction through much of the war."

"Nearly the whole of it," I said. "He fought for six years. Once he helped General Washington to cross a stream."

Mr. Fatherscreft smiled. "I've heard that story. I believe thy father liked to tell it."

"I guess he was boasting a little," I said.

"Thy father was ent.i.tled to boast a little. I met him first when he was in jail. He wasn't frightened to fight for his rights." He coughed. "When Captain Ivers refused him his freedom, he left. Captain Ivers had him arrested and jailed for running away. I visited him in jail to comfort him. He wasn't in long, and he went on to win his case. Thy father was famous, for a time. He may well go down in history."

It certainly made me proud to hear that. Pretty near anybody could have led General Washington's horse across a stream, if he had any brains at all. But for a black man to sue a white man, just like he was as good as anybody, why, that was a terrible daring thing to do. I don't know as I would have the nerve to do it. But my daddy, he wasn't scared of it, and he done it. Oh, that made me feel proud. "Was my daddy the first nig-" I stopped. I was blamed if I was going to say "n.i.g.g.e.r" anymore. "Was he the first Negro who did something like that?"

"Oh yes, Daniel. Some other Negroes had sued for their freedom before that, but thy father was the first to show that fighting in the war for our nation's independence should get him his freedom, too." He shook his head. "Well. We can talk about this some other time. We have other things to do."

"Yes, sir."

"The princ.i.p.al task right now is to get thee out of the tavern. If thou can manage to slip out, we can arrange to meet with the carriage later."

I was pretty worried about getting out. "Where would I meet you?"

"There's a church on Broadway near Wall Street, just a few blocks west and north. Make thy way there, and we'll send Carrie to tell thee where to join us."

It was an easy enough plan. The big question was where Captain Ivers and Big Tom were. There was a back stairs and a front stairs. They could each watch one. But I figured there was a chance that Captain Ivers would have business to do. He'd leave Big Tom to watch for me. But would he watch the back stairs or the front ones? The back, I decided: he'd figure that a nig-Negro would use the back stairs, not the front ones.

Quiet as I could, I slid the bolt on the door, and then I pulled the door open a crack and took a look out into the hall. There wasn't anybody there. I stepped out into the hall, shut the door behind me, and began to creep down the hall toward the front stairs. When I got to the top of the stairs, I pulled myself tight against the wall and eased my head around just a hair to get a look down them.

There wasn't anybody there, either. Feeling a lot easier, I let out a breath. I reckoned that if they'd been keeping a watch on me, they'd have stuck right there on the stairs. But they hadn't, so I began to go down the stairs a little quicker; the sooner I got out of the tavern, the better. I hit the bottom of the flight of stairs, and it was just then that Big Tom jumped out in front of me from somewheres, his eyes bulging and his teeth bared, and made a grab for me. Behind him was Captain Ivers.

I ducked and scrambled back up the stairs with Big Tom racing after me. At the top he made another grab for me, but I saw it coming and ducked away. Then I raced down the hall, into Mr. Fatherscreft's room, slammed the door, and bolted it. Outside, Big Tom banged on the door with his fist. "I've got you now, Arabus," he shouted. "You're trapped." He laughed a big roaring laugh.

11.

I dashed to the window and looked out. It was four stories straight down to the street. There wasn't any way I could get out there. In the hall I heard Captain Ivers shout, "If they won't open up, bust down the door, Tom." Big Tom wouldn't have any trouble doing that.

The only other way out of the room was the chimney. I jumped over to it, ducked my head down, and looked up. At the top I could see a patch of blue sky. The chimney looked like it was big enough to take me. "Mr. Fatherscreft," I said, "I'll be waiting at the church." Then I ducked into the fireplace as another great crash came from the door. I reached my arms up over my head and felt around. In a couple of seconds I found some little cracks where the mortar had dropped out from between the bricks. I dug my fingers in and heaved myself up until I was a couple of feet off the ground. Then I drew my knees up to sort of jam myself in and reached up to get another handhold.

Just then there came a tremendous rip of splintering wood. I heard a scrambling and a tearing sound, and Big Tom and Captain Ivers piled into the room. "Where is he?" Captain Ivers shouted at Mr. Fatherscreft.

"There's n.o.body here, sir," Mr. Fatherscreft said.

I heard steps, and then the window squeaked open, and I reckoned that Big Tom was having a look to see if I could have got out that way. I dug my fingers in and heaved myself up again. The window squeaked closed, and the next thing I knew, Big Tom was looking up the chimney. I couldn't see his face too well for the dark, but his big head about filled the whole view. "Arabus," he shouted. "Come down." He reached up with his arm to grab at my legs, but I pulled my knees up quick and he couldn't catch me. I took another handhold and pulled myself farther up.

Big Tom disappeared, but in a minute he was back down there at the bottom of the chimney again. This time he had a sharp stick which had splintered out of the door when he'd busted it. He shoved it up the chimney like a sword. It caught me in the leg, a good sharp jab. "Come down," he roared. But I pulled myself up again, and then I felt above the top edge of the chimney, and I pulled myself up and out.

The tavern had a mansard roof, a flat center part with the sides sloping away from it. There was a low rail fence around the flat part, so's you could walk around up there without risk of falling off. A trap door leading down to the hall below was at one end. I figured in about a minute Big Tom would be coming up it.

I dashed toward the back and looked down. The roof sloped off for about fifteen feet. Then it dropped straight down two stories to the roof of one of the little sheds out back. If I could somehow get down onto that shed roof, it would be easy enough to drop to the ground from there. But to do that, first I'd have to slide down those steep, slippery slates for fifteen feet and then find some way to climb down the outside of the tavern for two stories to the shed roof.

I took another look around. There wasn't any other way out. It was either slide down that roof and risk falling off, or stay there and get caught by Big Tom. I looked down the sloping roof again. There was a wooden rain gutter running along the bottom edge. I was pretty sure that it would support my weight. It had to be strong enough to hold a lot of snow and ice in the wintertime. I figured I could probably grab onto it when I slid down and keep myself from going all the way over the edge. There was certain to be a downspout running to the cistern somewheres, probably at the corner of the building.

Just then I heard a thump underneath the trap door. I couldn't wait any longer: I had to make up my mind. Oh, my, that roof looked steep, and I knew that those slates would be slippery as ice. There was another thump, and the trap door squeaked open. I swiveled around to look. Big Tom's head was poking out. I swung my leg over the rail fence, sat down on the slates, let go of the railing, and started to slide down the roof. I tried to sort of grab at the slates as I went along, to slow myself down, but there wasn't anything really to grab on to, and I began to pick up speed. The gutter came rising up to me. I jammed my feet out to catch in it, but they didn't catch, and I started to ride right over the edge of the roof. I grabbed with my hands, and the next thing I knew I was dangling by my arms from the gutter, two stories up above the little shed roof.

Above me I heard Tom's roaring laugh. "You're a fool, Arabus," he shouted. "You're going to kill yourself sure."

I twisted my head back to look up, but from that angle I couldn't see anything but the underside of the gutter and the sky. My hands was beginning to hurt already. I thought about just letting go and dropping. I figured I could probably fall two stories, which wasn't more'n about twenty feet, without getting hurt too bad. But there was always the chance that I'd break a leg, or plunge through the shed roof, or even maybe just sprain an ankle. If I couldn't run, he'd catch me in a minute.

I twisted my head to look sideways. There was a downspout, just as I'd figured, running down the corner of the building. I began to move along the gutter, first swinging my body to one side and then reaching out with my hand to get a fresh grip. Above me I heard Big Tom running, and then the trap door slamming, and I knew he was racing down the stairs to catch me when I hit the ground.

I reached the downspout. It was about four inches thick. I grabbed it with both hands and just let myself slide down as fast as I dared. My hands burned, but I knew I was in for a lot worse than that if Tom caught me. I hit the shed roof, dashed to the edge, and jumped down onto the ground. I tumbled when I hit, but I was up in a flash and racing the back way out of the tavern yard onto Broad Street. I ran as hard as I could for four or five blocks till I came to City Hall and turned west. In a minute I was inside the church, hunched over in a pew like I'd come in to say my prayers.

I sat there for the rest of the afternoon, not daring even to look around in a case Big Tom or Captain Ivers came prowling around. Finally, around suppertime Nosy came for me. She tapped me on the arm, and we went out of the church into the street. "Where you been?" she said. "You look mighty scuffed up."

"Well, Nosy, all I did was climb up the chimney, slide down the roof, and shinny down the drainpipe. That wouldn't be likely to scuff anybody up, would it?"

"I'll bet you was scared."

"Scared? Not me, Nosy. Who'd be scared of being chased up a chimney and sliding down a roof four stories up?"

"I'll bet you were," she said.

"Nothing like it," I said. "Now stop asking questions and tell me where the carriage is."

It was in the next street. We trotted around there. It was an ordinary black carriage, with Mr. Fatherscreft's chests tied on top near the driver and two seats inside facing each other that was big enough for three each. Except that there wasn't anybody inside but Mr. Fatherscreft and Mr. Fraunces.

"Jump in, Daniel," Mr. Fraunces said. I hopped in. Mr. Fatherscreft was wrapped up in a blanket, looking pale and sweaty. He wasn't in no shape to travel, I could tell that right away. "Daniel, stay down on the floor until you're clear of the city." I dropped to the floor and crouched there. "Now, Daniel, bear it in mind that Mr. Fatherscreft is not well. You're to keep things as quiet and easy for him as you can. Understand?"

"Yes, sir," I said. Then he got out of the carriage and looked up at the driver. "All right," he said.

I poked my head up just a little to get a look at Nosy. I guess I liked her. I wished I had a chance to say good-bye and maybe give her a little hug, too. But I couldn't risk getting out of the carriage, where somebody might spot me. All I could do was give her a wave, and then I dropped down out of sight again. The carriage began to move, the wheels creaking and rumbling on the street. Still I felt sorry to leave Nosy. I might never see her again. So I raised up and took a look out of the back window. Nosy and Mr. Fraunces were standing there, watching us go. I wondered if I'd ever see them again in my life.

I gave them another wave, and then I saw, standing back aways down the street, Big Tom, staring right at me. I dropped to the floor in a flash, but I knew it wasn't any use: he'd seen me. My heart sank. I knew what had happened. He'd hung around the tavern after I escaped, waiting for me to come back. When he saw Mr. Fatherscreft get into the carriage, he'd got suspicious and followed along. I was lucky in one thing, though. If it had been Captain Ivers, he'd have come right over and demanded me back as a runaway. But Big Tom was black and couldn't come around and start giving orders to white folks.

He would go after Captain Ivers, though, I figured; or else follow us to see where we went, and then get him, one way or the other. I began to pray that we'd get across the North River first. I lay on the floor, watching the tops of the houses go along, my heart beating, and just hoping and praying I'd make it safe across the river before Captain Ivers caught up to us. Then I began to smell harbor smells. "The ferry," Mr. Fatherscreft said.

I took a chance and raised my head. I didn't see Big Tom anywheres. The ferry was loading, and a crowd of people and wagons was waiting their turn to go on. It took us ten minutes before we were on, and another five minutes to cast off. Oh, my heart was racing like a scared horse, but we pulled away from sh.o.r.e, and half an hour later we landed at Paulus Hook on the New Jersey sh.o.r.e. But I didn't feel really safe until we'd got off the ferry and turned into Smith's Tavern, just a little ways from the ferry. Once we was up in our room and I got Mr. Fatherscreft a dram of rum and tucked him in bed, I let go a big sigh. Finally I was safe from Big Tom and Captain Ivers. But I was pretty sure they wouldn't give up on me. The most usual thing would be to have a handbill describing me printed and hung up in taverns and on walls. Probably they'd offer a reward for me, too. It scared me to think about that. But for now, anyway, I was safe.

Mr. Fatherscreft woke up a couple of times in the night with a coughing fit. I gave him a little rum each time, and in the end he slept pretty good. In the morning he seemed a little better. We got started just after daybreak. It was a good two days' trip to Philadelphia.

Between having got away from Captain Ivers and Mr. Fatherscreft seeming a little better, I was feeling pretty cheerful as we set out from Smith's Tavern for Bergentown. I'd never been anywheres in a carriage before. It wasn't the custom for black folks to ride in a style like that. Oh, I felt pretty grand riding along like that and taking in the view.