Prologue - The Wheelman's Daughter
Elizabeth 1872
The night seemed darker than usual so the big moon shone more brightly. As we walked down through moon shadows, Mama gripped my hand tightly and hoisted Robbie a little higher on her hip. I felt sleepy but knew we were in a hurry, so I tried to show Mama I was big enough to walk faster so she wouldn’t need to pull me anymore.
“Let’s stop next to this tree and catch our breath,” whispered Mama. As soon as Robbie was steady on a little flat spot, she reached down and pulled out some bread and cider from the folds of her dress. “Eat this, Lizzie, so I can feed him.”
I nodded and watched her carefully. “And remember, please whisper.” She was speaking softly in our Gullah language.
I nodded and looked around me, noticing we were the only ones on the streets. “Mama, where’s Daddy?” I asked.
“Hush, Lizzie. We will meet him on his steamer.”
Robbie squirmed and began to cough. Mama scooped him up to muffle the sound. He finally settled down to nurse, reaching out to squeeze and release my fingers.
How can I remember all these details and sensations, this soon after my fourth birthday? This extraordinary night is still very clear in my memory, even ten years later. My father has told me we’ve discussed it so much, the details are rooted in my brain. My mind can still smell the fumes and hear the sound of distant whistles blowing across the water.
Fog was covering our boat when we arrived at the dock. I ran up to Daddy and hugged him as he lifted me up into his sinewy arms. “Welcome little one. Are you ready to take a ride?”
Glancing over his shoulder, I saw my Mama’s other daughter Clara Jones, all of thirteen-years-old.
“Clara, where’s Charlotte and Emily?” I asked. Clara and Charlotte were Mama’s first daughters, born before she met my Daddy.
“They stayed back at the house. Emily is too young to come.”
I shook my head. “No she’s not. She’s older than me and I’m here. Why?”
No one answered me so I sat down and tried to understand their conversation. When that got confusing, I rested my head on Mama’s lap and closed my eyes.
I woke up when I heard other women, the wives of some of the crew members, speaking excitedly. Daddy was finally telling them what we were planning to do, and they were arguing about missing curfew. Two of them wanted to get off the boat immediately, before they got into more trouble.
Daddy tried to stay calm, but when a few of them started weeping and moaning, he raised his voice.
“Listen to me. You have to trust me. I have spoken to the men onboard and we agreed that this is an opportunity we must take. There will be no turning back now.”
Sensing my growing agitation, Mama sat me on her lap. Daddy talked to us calmly about our freedom, then led us to the ship’s stateroom where we were told to wait. The others probably knew more by then, but I didn’t. Not yet. I trusted my Daddy and Mama. I reached over to cuddle my sleeping brother so Mama and Daddy could talk.
Bits and pieces of their conversation stayed with me. Quietly, Daddy told the others that his plan was dangerous, but if we had faith, it would all be worth the risk. “If we do nothing for our families tonight, we can be broken up and sold separately…or even worse. This is our only chance to be free.”
Those last eight words, spoken softly and solemnly, had an immediate effect on the others.
Someone asked, “And if we get caught?””
Daddy took several moments to answer. “We already discussed this.”
After a brief pause, he looked at each one of us earnestly.
“If necessary, we will hold hands and jump overboard, drowning together in the sea.” When the alarmed gasps and muffled interruptions calmed down, some of them started praying. I watched my elders silently.
The ship crept silently away from the dock, making soft slurping noises as the waves lapped against the wharf. The low country grasses along the water might have been waving farewell. The distant chimes of St. Michaels Church warned that curfew had begun for the slaves in the city. Someone muttered what we were all thinking: “Curfew has started. We are breaking the law.”
We waited in the small boat Etowah while Daddy finished preparations on The Planter. Mama told me that Daddy would pilot it and take us to the Union lines.”
Three crew members accompanied us across a gangplank. Then we all hid below, until The Planter was ready and some of Daddy’s crew could return to pick us up. The ship’s hold smelled like pluff mud at low tide, so I breathed in the fish and oyster odors and grass and decay smells: all mixed together.”
Mama settled me and the others around her. ”
“You’ve heard the story of Moses in the Bible,” she began. “His family and the other Hebrew people had to run away from Egypt to become free.” I noticed she was watching the older children, but she kept her fingers interwoven with mine while she spoke.
“They were very frightened but they trusted Moses to lead them. He was a great believer in God, and completely trusted Him.”
Clara turned to her mother. “How far did they have to run to become free?”
Mama smiled. “They walked for many days, all the way to the Red Sea. They had to get to the other side, but it was too deep and too wide.” ”
“Mama, what did they do?” I asked, although I had heard the story often at bedtime.
“They prayed, like we’re doing tonight. And they believed their prayers would be answered, like we’re taught in our churches.”
One of the other women shook her head in agreement. “And they knew that God had a special love for slaves like themselves. Their faith kept them strong.”
Mama nodded, softly releasing her breath. She was relieved that she’d been able to calm them a little. She knew there was much more in store for us that night, so she quietly prayed for courage.
“And then what happened?” Clara asked again.
“When they reached the sea, Moses stretched out his hand and the waters divided down the middle. The Hebrews passed through to dry land. The Egyptians followed them, but God told Moses to hold up his hands once more. The sea waters rushed over the Egyptian soldiers and they all drowned.”
“And what about their freedom?” asked another woman.
Mama smiled. “Then they were slaves no longer.”
And that’s what the Lord will do for us,” added a crewman.
“Amen,” smiled Mama. “Amen.”
We waited in the small boat Etowah while Daddy finished preparations on The Planter. Daddy would pilot it and take us to the Union lines. When he finished his work, he steered it toward us very quietly to avoid suspicion. Three men, five women and three children climbed off the Etowah and boarded The Planter.
We were sent below decks. I quickly fell asleep, but I think Robbie and I were the only ones who could do that. I overheard men talking about the need to pass quickly by Ft. Sumter, but I can’t remember what else they talked about.
I slept fitfully. Once I heard a whistle blowing two long blows and a short one. I looked for Mama and found her on her knees praying, holding the hand of another woman as tears slipped down their cheeks.
Then nodding and smiling, she whispered, “We made it past the fort. The Lord is with us.”
The paddle wheels were churning; steam and smoke filled the air as we picked up speed. Sleep found me once more as The Planter headed through the dark waters toward the Union ships.
Our unforgettable adventure had just begun.
