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Authors: C. James Gilbert

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BOOK: A Deeper Sense of Loyalty
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“I had to do something. I wouldn't have been able to live with myself if they'd hanged you.”

“You'll have to go with me now, you know that.”

“Yes, I know.”

“I'm sorry, Polly. This is your home.”

“It's all right, James. It was different when mother was alive. There is nothing here for me anymore. I
want
to go with you. Where did Israel and the boy come from?”

“I'll explain that on the way,” said James.

“Will we go to Pennsylvania?”

“Eventually we will. First we'll head to Petersburg, Virginia. I'll explain that, too. Right now we have to decide what to do with Wilkes and Roscoe. We have to keep them quiet for as long as possible. Once they spread the word we will all be fugitives. We won't be safe until we are up north. We also have a transportation problem. We need a horse and wagon, or at the very least, one more horse.”

“There is a wagon down in the shed. It belonged to mother but it hasn't been used since our old horse died three years ago.”

“That will help except that the only horse we have is Star. She's a saddle horse and I don't know how she will like pulling a wagon. But, I guess we have to try it. First I'd better get our two friends inside taken care of.”

“What are you going to do?” she asked.

“I'll tie them up and gag them. Hopefully they won't be found until sometime tomorrow. That's the best we can hope for. We'll try to hide Israel and the boy in the wagon. Maybe we can pass for two harmless travelers. You should pack whatever you need to take along. We have to get moving.”

James went inside and secured the hands and feet of Sheriff Wilkes and Roscoe with Israel standing guard. All the while, the sheriff spewed threats about what he'd do when he caught up with them. Irritation finally gave way to anger and James told him, “You know something, Wilkes, if I had it in me, I'd take you out someplace and shoot you. Then he shoved a gag into Wilkes's mouth to shut off further comment. James hitched Star to the wagon and led her up to the back door. Everyone helped to load what they could take from Polly's house, Israel and the boy hid under blankets, and they headed north leaving a lot of trouble tied and gagged in Dry Branch.

 

TWELVE

 

Deception in Petersburg

 

 

It was obvious from the start that Star was not happy with her new job, but James managed to keep her moving along. This trip north would be much different than the others because now he had Polly to worry about. More and more he was concerned that what he was trying to do was affecting the lives of so many people. He was already indirectly responsible for the deaths of the overseer and one of the slaves from Live Oak. What happened to the Gilmores could have happened at any time but it still preyed upon his mind. James realized the unfortunate truth that nothing in theory is ever the same in reality. But his situation seemed to resemble the war itself in as much as now that it had started there was nothing to do but fight until the end.

As they rode through the night, James told Polly how he had come to be in the company of Israel and the boy. She was very touched when he told her about his Uncle Stanley, how he sold the boy's mother, and how the boy yearned to see her again. “That is why we are heading to Petersburg. Uncle Stanley sold her to a banker named Stark two years ago. If I can locate him, maybe I can free the boy's mother and we can reunite this family.”

“This is a wonderful idea, James. Have you told Israel?”

“No, not yet. I want to see if I can find her first. I don't want to get their hopes up in case I fail. Two years is a long time. Maybe the banker doesn't even own her anymore.”

All night long they traveled in a northeasterly direction and by seven o'clock in the morning they had reached Jackson, South Carolina. Before entering town they stopped to allow Israel and the boy a chance to eat as much as they could because, until they moved on, the two of them would have to remain concealed in the wagon.

Jackson was a small town and had no telegraph office; therefore, James was not terribly concerned for their safety. He put Polly in a hotel room so that she could rest and freshen up; James slept in the livery barn next to the wagon. Early that evening, they had supper at the town's only eatery. They also had a basket of food fixed up to take along for the slaves; something better than what they had stored in the wagon.

The trip had gone well to that point, and as James expected, Polly was very pleasant company. It began to take on the feeling of a courtship, and even in the short time they had spent together he began to feel very comfortable with her.

After dark that evening, as they rolled through the countryside, off in the distance to the west they could see the glow of a large number of campfires.

“Must be an army camp,” said James.

“Is it anything to worry about?” asked Polly.

“If they found out we have runaway slaves it would be. They would arrest us as quick as the civilian authorities. We just have to hope no one has a reason to search the wagon; better yet, we have to hope we don't even get stopped.” Over the course of the following few days, they passed by a number of Confederate infantry and artillery units, but managed to travel around them inconspicuously.

Petersburg was a thriving rail center with all but one rail line running to the Confederate capital of Richmond. It was a large city with plenty of danger for anyone trying to smuggle runaway slaves. The important thing was to keep them out of sight. If the four of them were not seen together it would help to foul any description that might be sent out. Surely Sheriff Wilkes and Roscoe had been freed by now, James thought.

However, getting to Petersburg was not the primary objective, but merely the temporary. James needed to locate the boy's mother, if possible, and steal her away from her owner. He had casually asked Israel about his woman, ostensibly out of curiosity. Her name was Emaline; she was light skinned and approximately five feet tall. She had a noticeable scar on her right cheek put there by an overseer's riding crop. James hoped this would be sufficient enough to find her.

They drove down Main Street until they came to a tavern with a sign out front boasting about their roast beef sandwiches. It was mid-morning and the establishment was packed with either late breakfast customers or an early crowd looking for lunch. James ordered four of the large, overstuffed sandwiches, a jug of coffee, and a sarsaparilla for the boy. He paid for the food and asked the man behind the counter if there was a place outside town where he might camp for the night.

“Just passin through, stranger?”

“That's right,” said James.

“If you head north out of town you'll come to a bridge that crosses the Appomattox River. Just before the bridge there are wooded areas on both sides of the road. Just pick a spot and go to campin.”

“Thank you kindly.” On the way out of the tavern he picked up a newspaper, climbed into the wagon, and headed north.

They found a likely spot down by the river, far enough from the road to afford them some privacy. James devoured his sandwich while reading the local paper and when he started reading the back page, an advertisement caught his eye. “Listen to this, Polly,” he said. “For Sale. Four hundred acre farm with large house and out buildings. Perfect for raising crops and livestock. Interested parties should contact Zachary Stark, at Merchant's Bank, 450 Canal Street, Petersburg, Virginia. That's my man. That's my opportunity to talk with him.”

“That's wonderful, James. I just know you'll find a way to get some information.”

“I'll see him this afternoon. First I need a change of clothing. I have to look like someone who can afford to buy that farm. I'll probably be gone for a few hours. Will you be all right?”

“I'll be fine. I have my pepperbox and I'm not alone.”

“No, you're not. Israel says he knows how to use the shotgun. I think you'll be safe enough in daylight. I'll hurry back.”

James saddled Star and rode back into town. First he bought a fine looking suit in a secondhand shop. It may have been used, but it was in impeccable condition. Next he went to a bathhouse to clean up. When he walked out he could have passed for a rich Virginia planter.

He had no trouble finding the Merchant's Bank. Sporting a look of importance, he strolled in and asked to speak to Mr. Stark. The banker was also very well dressed and was about sixty years old, completely bald, with a full gray beard. He may have been a banker by trade, but he was a bootlicker by nature and no doubt a man who slept with his money. For the masquerade, James had to change his name for a second time. He felt he had worn out the name William Mason, not to mention all the trouble attached to it. This time he introduced himself as Sterling Hargraves.

Stark ushered James into his office, offering brandy and a cigar, both of which James declined. He proved to be a consummate actor, and after half an hour Stark was begging him to take a ride out to the farm. “We can be there in ten minutes, Mr. Hargraves.” James agreed to have a look and the banker quickly opened his office door and said, “Miss Trumbull, have Jerome hitch up my carriage and bring it around front immediately.” Then he escorted James to the door, and when the black servant, Jerome, pulled up in the handsome carriage, they got into the backseat.

The farm was a beautiful place with fenced in pastures, two large ponds, and flat open fields just perfect for cultivation. The house reminded James of his home in Georgia with the same Greek revival architectural influence. It was surrounded by flowers, lots of mature trees, and a manicured lawn adorned with marble statues. Inside, the house was fully furnished with fine oak and mahogany furniture; gold frame paintings, and a huge tapestry hanging in the foyer depicting Monticello—the home of the great Virginian and former president, Thomas Jefferson.

As they walked about the place, James began to wish that things were different; that he really was a prospective buyer. He thought the farm would make a wonderful place for him and Polly to live and raise a family. What a strange time, James thought, to realize that he was in love.

“What do you think?” Stark asked when the tour was over.

“I think it's just perfect,” said James. “Of course I will have to talk it over with my wife and she will want to see it for herself. We're staying in town at a hotel. We'll be here for a few days.”

“I have an idea,” said Stark, with a gleam in his eye. “Why not spend your stay right here? You'll save the price of your hotel room and you and your wife can really get the feel of living here. I'll even throw in your meals. I can send a wagon over this evening with enough food to last your stay and I'll leave a Negress here to cook and serve you. What do you say?”

What could he say? It was all made to order. They would all have lovely accommodations, complete with food, and James could question the slave woman that Stark would send to find out if Emaline was still the banker's property.

“I must say, you do make an offer that is difficult to refuse, Mr. Stark.”

“Splendid, splendid. Just bring your wife out as soon as you've checked out of your hotel. Let's see now, today is Tuesday . . . I'll stop out say, Friday morning and maybe you'll be ready with a decision?”

“I think you can count on it,” James replied.

He wasted no time getting back to the campsite. He told Polly all about the meeting with the banker and the invitation to stay at the farm. He also told her that he had introduced himself as Sterling Hargraves. Polly agreed with James about how well things were working out.

Driving back through Petersburg, Polly sat very close to James, holding his hand. Again he tried to imagine away reality, almost pretending they were simply going home after having spent a wonderful day together.  

Near the center of town, however, he noticed the pressure of Polly's grip increase until her fingernails were digging into his skin. When he looked at her, the fear was unmistakable in her expression. She turned her head slightly toward the left side of the street. “Look over there,” she whispered. His eyes searched along the boardwalk and his heart skipped a beat when he discovered what had caught her attention. Tying his horse in front of the sheriff's office was their arch enemy, Sheriff Wilkes. There were two other men with him, neither of which was Roscoe. Wilkes had his back to the street and did not look in their direction. All James could say was, “Thank God he didn't see us.”

Not another word was uttered until they reached the farm and climbed out of the wagon. “Let's get what we need and get it inside. I want to get this rig in the barn, out of sight.” To Israel he said, “You and the boy go in the house. Take him upstairs and find a bedroom in front. From now on until we leave here, I want you to spend as much time as possible looking out that window. You'll be able to see for quite a distance so if you spot anyone coming shout out a warning.”

“Yes, sir,” he replied, picking up the boy and hurrying into the house.

After putting the wagon away and tending to Star, James went in and found Polly absorbed in the beautiful décor. “Isn't it grand, James?”

“Yes, it is.” Then he blurted, “I wish things were different and we were here because this is our home.” Polly looked at him with a smile that said she was thinking the same thing. On impulse, he took her in his arms and kissed her deeply and meaningfully. Then he held her at arm's length and said, “Can you imagine anyone with a poorer sense of timing than me?”

“Poor timing notwithstanding, I'll take it.” Then a tear escaped her eye. “Will we ever reach Pennsylvania?” she asked.

“We'll get there, Polly. I promise you we'll get there. We just have to be vigilant. We'll all take turns sleeping and watching. Hopefully Wilkes will move on soon and he'll be out ahead of us. There is really no reason why we wouldn't be safe here for a couple of days. No one knows we're here except Stark and he poses no threat. We'll find out this evening if he still has Emaline, then we can plan our next move.”

BOOK: A Deeper Sense of Loyalty
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