Jump Ship to Freedom (12 page)

“I know there was a risk, but I couldn't have gone off free myself and left Mum up in Connecticut to work for the Iverses for the rest of her life.”

“It was brave, Daniel,” Mr. Fatherscreft said.

“Oh, I wasn't a hero. I was scared to death the whole time.”

Mr. Fatherscreft coughed a couple of times. He took a swallow of rum. Nobody said anything for a minute. Then he said, “Daniel, Mr. Fraunces and I have been talking about thee. Thou're clearly an intelligent and resourceful boy. I expect to go to Philadelphia to the convention shortly. Perhaps tomorrow. I'll need somebody to travel with me.”

“Mr. Fatherscreft is only barely well enough to travel, Daniel,” Mr. Fraunces said. “He'll need somebody to look after him. It'll get you away from New York, besides.”

Well, there wasn't anything calculated to please me more. “Yes, sir,” I said. “I'd sure be glad of the chance.” But I didn't get a chance to say anything more, for just then there came a knock on the door. Mr. Fraunces opened it. The man who came in was tall and slim and dressed as fine as could be.

“William Few,” he said, and shook Mr. Fraunces's hand. Then he went over to the bed and shook Mr. Fatherscreft's hand, too. “How are you feeling, Peter?”

“Better, I'm happy to say.”

I slunk over to the wall to be out of the way.

“Able to travel, I hope?”

‘‘Will there be reason for traveling?”

“I think we have hope of compromise, Peter. I've canvassed the Southerners here in Congress. We'll vote with you to outlaw slavery in the Northwest Territories, if the men at the convention will refrain from attempting to close the backlands south of the Ohio River to slavery, and if you'll give us a fugitive-slave provision in the new constitution.”

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 constitution 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 constitution 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 assist 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 constitution 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 constitution 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 passed 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 substitute 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 substitutes, 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 substitute?” 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 entitled 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 “nigger” 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 principal 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.