“I’ll rest easier when our last task is accomplished tonight.”
“As much as I hate to say it, I’m glad Father is abed.” Loveday set down her spoon, her voice a whisper. “But I do worry about Riggs in such a high temper of late. He’s to return in the morning to mete out the punishment to Armistead and Jacob.” She took up her spoon again while Juliet absently watched her own dessert melt in its tall glass. “With Riggs upriver tonight, the timing is right. Ten o’clock, is it?”
Juliet nodded. “I have the necessary shoes and garments ... and passes.”
“All is in order, then.” Loveday darted a look at the open door. “Rilla has packed enough victuals. I stored them in the dairy till the time comes.”
Juliet looked at the clock as it chimed the half hour, twilight encroaching in lavender hues. The melancholy twist inside her was like the turning of a rusty screw.
I wish I could run away too.
The distant quarters to the west were quiet save some singing, the rows of crude wooden cabins linked by dusty lanes. The indentures fared better—the free-willers, king’s passengers, and redemptioners who rivaled the enslaved in number. Their brick lodgings were sturdier and better kept per the terms of their contracts. They lived nearer the overseers by the tobacco fields, both men and women, even a few children.
There was no light save the moon, but both sisters moved along stealthily and silently, as they’d walked this path since childhood. They were intent on the bellhouse, the small structure near the fields where an old bell hung that acted as a clock to divide the day, summoning hands to work or rest. Only there was no rest, in truth. Not for those who labored, and little more for those who managed them.
Inside the bellhouse were the hated iron collars Riggs sometimes used to keep track of returned runaways, and a vicious selection of whips. Here truant slaves were kept. Juliet could hear Armistead and Jacob moving about inside, as much as their chains allowed. Father’s keys made a slight noise as the lock opened, and Juliet was first to enter the space smelling of sweat, fear, and worse.
She fought her own disquiet as she faced the two captured runaways in almost total blackness, one who’d been born at Royal Vale and one who’d come from Carolina at auction a year before. After several tense, fumbling moments, the chains fell from the men’s thin wrists. With the practiced motions of repetition, she and Loveday distributed osnaburg garments and sturdy shoes, then stuffed victuals in haversacks that held passes for travel.
Juliet spoke softly to the startled men, alert to any outsiders. “Stay vigilant and off the main roads. Travel only by night when you can. You’ll have safe passage on Ravenal lands. Once you make it to the York River, you’ll see a sloop at anchor by an old pier and a warehouse marked with the sign of a dove.” She paused, wondering how much would be remembered in the duress of the moment. “Captain Vaughn and his crew are expecting you. They’ll sail you to Philadelphia, where you’ll join Friends at Frankford Meeting House. That’s all you need know for now.”
Loveday stood at the door, her back to them as she keptwatch. Juliet pressed a few coins into Jacob’s and Armistead’s hands, then stood by as the men reached the door and slipped beyond it into the unknown. For a breathless trice, she sagged against a wall, her thoughts and emotions in a tangle. How she hated that doing right felt so wrong. That standing by one’s convictions involved such deep secrets—and ultimately deceptions.
Yet Mama had begun the work, as had the Ravenals. Even Aunt Damarus. Though years had passed since she’d discovered Mama’s part in it, Juliet remembered one whispered discussion in particular.
“Mama, what do you think Father would do if he found you out?” she’d asked one day when they’d been riding, just the two of them.
“I answer to the Almighty first, your father second. All of God’s creatures should be free, even the smallest.” Mama fixed her gaze on a butterfly that had alighted on the pommel of her saddle. “Sometimes I suspect your father knows yet says nothing. And so I quietly continue the work.”
Did he?
Father seemed oblivious, but Juliet had begun to suspect others on the plantation were not so easily duped. Yet the risk seemed greater if these slaves stayed. In the morn, Riggs would unleash his fury, whip them till they bled, even punish their kin. At least tonight these men had a chance, a tendril of hope.
Lord, we’re doing what we can.
Loveday squeezed her hand as they left the building, leaving the door ajar and the lock undone. Silently they made their way back to the house, slipped in a side door, and climbed a little-used back stair, which avoided Father and his chamber altogether.
8
Have had either Bacon or Chickens every meal since I came into this Country. If I still continue in this way shall be grown over with Bristles or Feathers.
Nicholas Cresswell’s journal, 1774, upon visiting Maryland
YORKTOWN, VIRGINIA
OCTOBER1774
Twenty-six days after leaving Glasgow, Leith stood at the ship’s rail as theThistlesailed into Chesapeake Bay. What had transpired in his absence? The twins he wasn’t worried about, as Lyrica was the best of caretakers. His business affairs were in his brothers’ hands. But his colonial concerns were another matter. Virginia’s sweet-scented tobacco was known for its quality, bore his mark, and fetched an unusually high price in London and elsewhere. Given that, why were so many planters abandoning tobacco?
As the ship neared port, the shoreline’s jagged contours sharpened, autumn turning the town bright as a pumpkin. Scarlet oaks flamed amid golden maples behind a wall ofwarehouses and storefronts. An immense windmill he recalled from years before loomed on a cliff above a creek. Up the hill from Water Street a kirk spire pierced the leaden sky, but he was most interested in slaking his thirst and regaining his land legs. York Town boasted a staggering number of taverns within walking distance. He could practically smell the ale awash from Water Street.
“I recommend the Indian Queen or the Swan Tavern on Main Street, though the Black Thistle and Prince George on the outskirts will suffice,” Captain Coffin told him. “But when in Williamsburg, only the Raleigh will do. You’re headed for the James River if I recall.”
“In time,” Leith replied, his attention on the town unfolding before his eyes. He’d spend a night or two in York Town. Business called for it. He had a few matters to settle at the customhouse with the custom agent. “I’ll see Williamsburg once I get my bearings. I’ll meet with my factors and clerks here first.”
“Your stores extend to Maryland, aye?”
“My father’s stores foremost.” Leith ignored the pained memory and forced a half smile. “I simply crack the whip on occasion.”
