Railroad of Courage Read online

  I ran as fast as I could but my legs were weak. I found it hard to swallow. At first, I thought my throat hurt from crying as we said goodbye, but once I was in the carriage my arms and legs started to ache. I didn’t want to tell my pa or my ma. When Delilah became sick, she had to stay behind. I was determined not to be left in Chicago.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  The New York Central Railroad

  As we travelled through the night, I slept in fits and starts. I awoke and felt hot, then awoke and felt cold. At last we came to a long passenger train pulled up at a siding. Workers hurried from car to car, carrying lanterns to light their way, while others shovelled coal into the coal car and filled the water tanks.

  Mister Carpenter opened the carriage door. “This is a work yard. There are no bounty hunters here. The train will be underway soon and it will take you to Hyde Park. Please follow me to the caboose, where my cousin Theodore is waiting for you.”

  Theodore, wearing black-and-white striped overalls and a hat of the same cloth, welcomed us and helped us climb up a ladder into the caboose. “Come in and make yourselves comfortable,” he said. Mister Carpenter stood awkwardly in the middle of the crowded caboose. He promised to watch over Delilah until she and Uncle Josiah could travel to Canada. We thanked him for his kindness and he wished us Godspeed.

  The train whistle sounded and Mister Carpenter quickly climbed down from the caboose. We waved farewell. Theodore scooped coal into a small stove and boiled a kettle of water. “I’ll make coffee and we can have some bread and jam,” he said.

  I put my head on my ma’s lap and let my body rock back and forth with the motion of the train. I was finally riding on a real railroad but I felt too sick to be excited. When we came to a crossing, a whistle sounded, the train slowed down and the engineer rang a bell. Then the train picked up speed and rushed on. I fell asleep and awoke only when the sun was high in the sky. When I sat up and looked out the window, I saw the reflection of my own face. At first, I did not recognize myself. I no longer looked like the slave girl from Grower Brown’s plantation. I was still afraid, I was not free, and I had no home, but there was hope in my eyes. I thought of Miss Clarissa. Would she recognize me? I knew she could not even imagine all the places I had been, or all the people I had met, since I ran away from the plantation. I thought of what Mister Carpenter had said about the end of slavery. If slaves were set free in the South, what would happen to the plantation? Would I someday be able to visit Miss Clarissa without risking my freedom?

  We passed small farms, villages and fields all covered in clean, white snow. Moses asked, “What are you thinking, Rebecca?” I told her I was thinking about being a conductor on the Underground Railroad, just like her. She frowned. “Child, this isn’t the life for you. You’ll go to school and learn to read and write like an educated person. You can help slaves more by writing than by taking them on the Railroad. And when slavery has ended, you can teach them how to read and write. They’ll need people like you who’ve found their way.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “You’re a bright girl and you’ll learn to live as a free woman. But many slaves won’t have taken the journey you have taken. You can lead them.”

  “Mister Carpenter believes there will be a war to end slavery,” I said. “Do you believe that, too?”

  Moses looked at me sadly. “Yes, Rebecca, I’m afraid Mister Carpenter is right about that. There will be war. And that war will never really end if the North wins, because many people in the South won’t accept that slaves should be free. People like Grower Brown, Master Jeff and the others in the Knights of the Golden Circle, they’ll strike fear in the hearts of black people for many years to come.” Her face looked tired and sad, and she turned to the window.

  Then she turned back to me and smiled. “Maybe in Canada you’ll find a nice man to marry. What do you think about that?”

  I laughed. “I just want to live with my pa and ma.” I looked at her and asked, “Did you ever want to marry a man?”

  Moses looked surprised. “Didn’t I ever tell you that I was married? Yes, Rebecca, I was married once but no more. I loved my husband and he loved me, but when I decided to be part of the Underground Railroad, he wanted to stay behind. When we met up again, years later, he had another wife—and children, too. I was mad at him, but then I figured it wasn’t his fault; I was the one who left him. Sometimes I feel lonely but mostly I don’t think about myself. I have many more slaves to lead to freedom.”

  I felt sad for her. I hoped that she would find another man to love her.

  The train started to slow down and Theodore said, “We’re about to arrive in Albany. I’ll go inside the station to see how many bounty hunters and federal marshals there are. Sit back from the windows so you can’t be seen.”

  We pushed our backs against the walls of the caboose, and Moses asked, “Theodore, do the federal marshals ever come aboard the trains?”

  Theodore said, “Rarely, very rarely.” He stepped down from the caboose, locking the door behind him. I began to feel weary and cold, even though a fire burned in the stove, and I had to lay my head on my ma’s lap again.

  When Theodore returned, he looked worried. “Moses, there are federal marshals checking every black passenger who gets on or off the train. And there are many bounty hunters in the station.”

  Moses nodded. “Then it’s good we’re going on to Hyde Park.” She pulled her revolver out of her belt and made sure there was a bullet in every chamber. She turned to me and said, “It’s for times like this that I carry a gun. But don’t worry, child, I’ll get you to Canada.”

  When the train started moving again, the sun was setting, spreading bands of orange and purple across the sky. Theodore gave us more bread and jam but my throat hurt and I couldn’t swallow. My ma thought I was sick from the rocking of the train, but I knew I had a fever.

  The fever made my dreams seem real. I dreamt that the train was a ship carrying us across the sea and I dreamt that I was trapped in the burning steamboat. My mouth was dry and I could barely talk. I nudged my ma and pointed to a jug of water. My ma looked at me and frowned. When she put her hand on my head, there was fear in her eyes. She said, “Obadiah, our girl is sick. Feel her head.”

  Pa put his rough, calloused hand gently on my forehead. His hand felt cool to me. “Oh, baby,” he said, looking frightened. “Deborah, we need to get our girl to a doctor.”

  Theodore said, “There’s a doctor in Poughkeepsie who is an abolitionist. He’ll take good care of her. Hyde Park is just up the river from Poughkeepsie.”

  Moses tore a strip of cloth from the hem of her dress and dipped it in the bucket of water. She bathed my forehead, trying to cool me down. I slept and awoke, over and over.

  Finally we reached Hyde Park. Theodore jumped from the caboose and helped the rest of us down. My pa had to carry me as we followed Theodore up a steep hill. I wondered what we would find when we got to the top.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  The Secret Passage

  When I awoke, I found myself on a small bed in a dark room. I couldn’t remember how I got there. A doctor stood over me and said, “Rebecca, you have scarlet fever. You need to rest.”

  A small white woman in a plain black dress stood beside my bed. She asked, “How long will it be before she is strong again?”

  The doctor said, “At least a month, maybe longer.” He picked up his black leather bag. “Keep the curtains drawn so the light doesn’t hurt her eyes. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

  My ma sat beside my bed while Moses and my pa sat on a blanket on the floor. The darkened room was crowded. The white woman smiled at me and said, “Rebecca, my name is Lucretia Mott. My brother, Charles Coffin, lives here and I am visiting. I visit him as often as possible for, when he is alone, my brother neglects to eat properly and the house is never tidied.”

  She paused. “I’m sorry, Rebecca. I shouldn’t be talking so much. I just want you to know that you are safe h
ere and I will stay to help nurse you. I will write to my husband and tell him I must stay here. I’m sure he will understand.”

  “Where am I?” I asked.

  “You arrived last night. You rode in a caboose to Hyde Park, do you remember that? Then my brother brought you here, to his house in Poughkeepsie. Now you’re in a hidden room and you are safe. You can reach this room only by stairs that run through a secret passage, and the door to the stairs is hidden in the pantry. Many runaways have hidden here, and no federal marshal has ever found the passage.”

  During the day we all stayed in the hidden room and Missus Mott brought us food and water, but at night, Moses and my pa went downstairs while my ma stayed with me. I slept and sometimes I couldn’t tell whether I was awake or dreaming.

  One night, I heard Moses say, “It’s very risky for us to stay in one place for a month.”

  Mister Coffin answered, “Moses, I’m afraid I agree. Rebecca must remain here, of course, until she’s well. And Deborah, because the child needs her mother. But you and Obadiah should move to a different house. Perhaps you should even go ahead to Canada? The southerners are putting great pressure on the federal marshals to enforce the Fugitive Slave Act. They are threatening to leave the Union of the United States if the law is not enforced. They are insisting that the federal marshals capture and return runaways. My brother is a judge at the courthouse here in Poughkeepsie. The federal marshals have an office there, as well, and he has heard them talking. They are determined to arrest you, Moses.”

  “Does your brother know we’re here? Will he be able to give warning if the federal marshals come for us?” Moses asked.

  Mister Coffin chose his words carefully. “My brother has taken an oath of loyalty to the federal government and he feels beholden to that oath, although he believes that slavery must end. He has promised me, that if he hears that the federal marshals are coming to search this house, he will come to the front door wearing a white hat. That will be the sign.”

  When I heard Mister Coffin ask whether my pa and Moses should go ahead to Canada, I could not stop the tears from running down my face. My ma got up from the floor, sat on the edge of my bed and wrapped her arms around me. “Don’t worry, Rebecca. Your pa may have to stay at a different house, but he will not leave you behind.”

  Mister Coffin arranged for Moses and my pa to move to another house in Poughkeepsie. My ma and I cried as we said goodbye, but it was a comfort to know that they would be nearby.

  I was getting stronger, and, one evening, Missus Mott helped me walk to a sitting room on the second floor. She lit a fire in a brick fireplace and made tea in an iron kettle. She saw me looking at the books that lined the room and asked me whether I knew how to read. When I told her I had started to learn to read at the Carpenters’ house in Chicago, she went to the shelves and pulled out a heavy book covered with green leather. Together, we looked at prints of birds and flowers.

  I tried to read the words printed below the pictures but they were too hard. Missus Mott laughed, “Those words are in Latin. It’s no wonder they’re hard for you to read.” She promised to find a primer for me. She said, “No person, man or woman, black or white, should lack an understanding of the written word. Words are important in the battle against slavery.”

  The next day, Missus Mott brought a slate tablet and a copy of The New England Primer to the sitting room. She traced the letters of the alphabet on the tablet and asked me to say each letter’s name. I was pleased that I remembered most of them. She opened the book, a book with pictures and simple words, and soon I was able to read them. My ma joined us and worked hard to learn the alphabet. She confused some letters but she was learning.

  One day Missus Mott suggested that, after I learned to read, I could write down our story, the story of our journey to freedom. I thought of all the brave people who had helped us, and I was pleased to think I could write their names in a book and tell the story of our flight from slavery.

  Missus Mott said, “In the meantime, do you want to write a letter to your father?” I missed my pa and I missed Moses, too. I had not seen them for almost a month. My ma asked Missus Mott if she would help her write a letter to my pa, too. My pa could not read but the family who were hiding him would read the letters for him. I told Missus Mott I might want to be a teacher when I grew up so I could teach my pa how to read.

  One night at dinner, Mister Coffin read an article from an abolitionist newspaper, an article about Buxton, a settlement in Upper Canada. The article was written about Reverend William King, a Presbyterian minister and abolitionist. When his father-in-law died, he was dismayed to learn that he had inherited a number of slaves as well as a plantation in Louisiana.

  He sold the plantation and brought all of the slaves to Canada so they could live in freedom. He bought a large tract of land—9,000 acres—in Upper Canada and founded an agricultural settlement. He arranged for a school to be built and hired a teacher. Mister Coffin suggested that we might want to settle in Buxton, a place where we would be welcomed. He said, “In that settlement, Obadiah could buy land to farm at $2.50 per acre, on credit, and Rebecca could attend a good school.”

  My ma thanked Mister Coffin. “I will tell Obadiah about this. I am still surprised to learn of the goodness of so many people, like this Reverend King. Until I started riding the Underground Railroad, I didn’t know that there were so many good people, both black and white.”

  One day I asked Missus Mott to tell me about her life. She told me that some years ago, a friend named Elizabeth Cady Stanton invited Missus Mott to go with her to the World Anti-Slavery Convention in London, England. Missus Mott said, “She changed my life forever. I was an abolitionist but, after that trip, I was also a suffragette. I realized that women in the United States and many other countries are not really free. Under the law, I cannot own property and I cannot vote. I don’t have a voice in choosing our president or our governor or any other elected official. I’m fortunate to have a loving husband and two kind brothers, but I would like to be equal to them under the law. Equality for women is something to fight for—just like freedom from slavery.”

  I asked, “Are there suffragettes in Canada?”

  Missus Mott laughed, “Yes. Maybe you will have to be both a suffragette and an abolitionist.”

  That night I heard Mister Coffin talking to his sister. He said, “I’m worried, Lucretia. The courthouse is crowded with federal marshals.”

  Missus Mott said, “The doctor is pleased with Rebecca’s progress. If Deborah and Rebecca need to leave now, the child is strong enough. I will miss her very much.”

  “Yes,” Mister Coffin said, “I will miss her, too, and the house will be very quiet. It is a great sorrow to me that I have no children, but God has given me a blessing by calling me to shelter runaways.”

  The next day, I heard a knock at the front door. I looked out the second-floor window while Missus Mott went downstairs. I saw a man standing at the door, a man in a white hat, and I knew what that meant. The federal marshals were coming.

  Mister Coffin sent word to Moses and my pa to be ready to flee with us. He said, “Deborah, please gather warm clothes and blankets. I’ll get the carriage ready and bring it to the back lane. We’ll pick up Moses and Obadiah on the way north.”

  Missus Mott packed food for us. I tore a page from the small book Missus Carpenter had given me. I wrote, “My name is Rebecca. I am going to Canada and I will be free.” I left the paper in the hidden room at the top of the secret passage and hoped other runaways would find it when they stopped at this house.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Dawn in Canada

  Before we set off from Mister Coffin’s house, we heard a rider approaching from the main road. He was breathless from the ride. “I was too late,” he moaned. “When I got to the house where Moses and Obadiah had been hiding, the federal marshals had surrounded it. They led Moses and Obadiah out of the house in handcuffs and took them to the county jail.” The rider look
ed at me and my ma. “I’m very sorry to bring such terrible news.”

  Mister Coffin put his hand on the man’s shoulder. “You did your best. It is no fault of yours that they were captured.” At the thought of my pa and Moses in jail, I started to cry and could not stop. We had come so far and it seemed cruel that they had been captured so close to Canada. Mister Coffin tried to comfort me. “Don’t worry, Rebecca. God will help us find a way to get your father and Moses out of that jail.” My ma hugged me and I held tight to her. Our tears ran together.

  Mister Coffin said, “We have to make sure you two are safe while we figure out how to free Moses and your father.” To our surprise, Mister Coffin took us to the house where Moses and my pa had been hidden. He explained, “The federal marshals have already searched here, and they won’t come back any time soon.” We were led to another secret room. I imagined my pa and Moses spending days in that same room, waiting for me to be well. If only I had not gotten sick!

  That night Mister Coffin gathered hundreds of people from all the churches in Poughkeepsie—white and black. They met at the Friends’ Meeting House and Mister Coffin asked them to spread the word that two runaways needed their help. “Spread the word in your congregations; tell the people to come to the Dutchess County courthouse at ten o’clock tomorrow morning. Harriet Tubman, the woman called Moses, and a good man named Obadiah will be arraigned then. They seek freedom, and we must see to it that they are not sent back to the bondage of slavery.”

  In the morning, throngs of people drove their wagons to Market Street. At ten o’clock, every church bell in Poughkeepsie started ringing and people marched to the courthouse. As Moses and my pa were led up the steps, people moved forward, making a circle that tightened around the federal marshals and the prisoners. The marshals struggled to stay on their feet, and I lost sight of my pa and Moses as they were swept into the crowd.