Daisy's Search for Freedom
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“As a mom to a ten-year-old girl, I am always struggling to find wholesome and educational books for my daughter to read. Daisy’s Search for Freedom is just what I was hoping it would be. Bertha Schwartz carefully spins the tale of a slave girl who is searching for the Underground Railroad with nothing but her faith in God to lead her. The first book in The Searchers series does an excellent job of making history come alive through the eyes of someone my own child’s age. Schwartz does not shy away from uncomfortable topics but does an excellent job at depicting history in a way that is age-appropriate and faith-based. This series is a great way to ignite a love for history in our children while showing them how God has always been and will always be at work in our lives.”
—Katie Cruice Smith
Author of Why Did You Choose Me?
Daisy’s Search for Freedom
©2018 by Bertha Schwartz
All rights reserved
ISBN: 978-1-62020-811-3
eISBN: 978-1-62020-812-0
Cover Design and Page Layout by Hannah Nichols
eBook Conversion by Anna Riebe Raats
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Table of Contents
Endorsement
Title Page
Copyright Information
Dedication
Chapter One: The New Cook
Chapter Two: Trouble in Town
Chapter Three: The Secret
Chapter Four: The First Secret Message
Chapter Five: More Messages
Chapter Six: Escape at Midnight
Chapter Seven: On the Run
Chapter Eight: The Wild Carriage Ride
Chapter Nine: The Gray Kitten
Chapter Ten: Alone in the Woods
Chapter Eleven: Lost
Chapter Twelve: Betrayed
Chapter Thirteen: Food
Chapter Fourteen: More Runaways
Chapter Fifteen: Dogs on the Trail
Chapter Sixteen: Caught
Chapter Seventeen: Dogs Again
Chapter Eighteen: Caught Again
Chapter Nineteen: In Captivity
Chapter Twenty: The Long Ride
Chapter Twenty-One: Separated
Discussion Questions
Also by Bertha Schwartz
Did you enjoy this book?
Contact Information
To Dad and Mom. Thank you for being Godly examples. Dad, I love you and will always miss you. Mom, words can’t express my gratitude for your encouragement and support. I love you!
And to my best friend, Jesus Christ, my Lord and Savior.
CHAPTER ONE
The New Cook
THIRTEEN-YEAR-OLD DAISY WOKE with a start. Someone was calling her!
“Daisy!” called Annabelle, impatiently. “Where are you? Come here! Right now! Immediately!”
Daisy slipped from her pallet on the floor in the small, narrow room. She could see by the dim light on the horizon, from the one small window that it was not yet time to get up. But she hurried into the room next door. “What is it, Miss Annabelle?”
Miss Annabelle was sitting up in bed, surrounded by fluffy, pink pillows edged with white ruffles. She glared at Daisy with ice-blue eyes. “Go get my breakfast! And hurry! Did you forget what day this is? How can you be so stupid?”
“No, Miss Annabelle. Today is the day the festivities start. But, it ain’t time to rise. See?” Daisy pulled back a heavy, burgundy drape. “The sun ain’t even up yet.”
“Daisy!” Miss Annabelle’s sharp voice made Daisy jump and drop the curtain. “Get my breakfast, now! You know better than to argue!”
Daisy rushed to her room to get dressed.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Miss Annabelle’s voice had risen.
“To get dressed, Miss.”
“You should have been dressed hours ago!” Miss Annabelle shouted. “Now, go get my breakfast. Hurry!”
Daisy quickly slipped out the door. The hallway was almost dark, but she knew the way. Her fingers felt the cool railing as she reached the back stairway and ran down. I hope I won’t meet anyone, still dressed in my night clothes, Daisy thought, as she raced toward the kitchen. I’m almost sure breakfast isn’t ready yet. Daisy’s heart skipped a beat as she remembered the new cook that had arrived only yesterday afternoon. “Mama!” Daisy whispered to herself. What a surprise that had been!
Daisy’s thoughts flew back to yesterday afternoon. At first, Daisy hadn’t even recognized her. She hadn’t seen her Mama for five-and-a-half years. And before Daisy could react, Mama had motioned her to silence. When Mama had a chance, she whispered, “It be better if no one knows you is my girl. Promise Mama you tell no one.” Daisy had promised.
Now her feet flew in anticipation. She slowed as she neared the kitchen door. Suddenly, Daisy felt shy. How would she act if others were around? They’d never had a new cook before. She pushed the door open quietly.
Mama turned from the stove. “Daisy!” she exclaimed, softly. She glanced around quickly, and then held out her arms.
Daisy ran to her and, to her own surprise, she burst into sobs. Mama rocked back and forth as she held her. “Hush, my child,” Mama whispered. “We don’t want to get caught.” She released Daisy to look at her. “You okay?” At Daisy’s nod, Mama hugged her one more time, and then asked, “Now what you be needin’?”
While Daisy told her, Mama poured a glass of milk. She handed it to Daisy, along with two of her delicious little tea cakes. The kind Daisy only dreamed about for five long years. “Eat this,” Mama said. “Does Miss Annabelle drink tea?”
Daisy smiled. “She does. She thinks is grown-up. But she hates it.”
Mama smiled. “I’ll make her some raspberry with plenty o’ sugar an’ cream. She’ll like it. With toast.” Mama expertly flipped the two slices of bread she was frying. “‘Twill satisfy her hunger and make her maybe want to sleep a mite longer.”
Daisy hurriedly ate the last bit of her tea cakes, while Mama slid the toast on a pretty plate. She placed it on a serving tray, along with an empty, fragile teacup and saucer, the matching tea pot in a tea cozy, three different kinds of jellies, additional sugar and cream, and table service.
“Now you tell her to start with this, an’ you’ll go down for the rest. But get dressed first. You’ve got plenty of time.”
Daisy grabbed the tray and rushed upstairs.
“What took you so long?” Miss Annabelle asked. “I’m almost starved! And this morning of all mornings!”
“I’m sorry,” Daisy whispered, contritely, bowing her head. She had learned long ago not to try to explain how unreasonable the demands were. She quickly pushed the small table up to the bed and arranged the pillows and blankets for Miss Annabelle.
“You brought only one cup,” Miss Annabelle pointed out.
“Yes, Cook said I should hurry down and she’d have the rest of your breakfast ready for me to bring up. I bring up my cup and plate then.” Daisy poured tea and then spread each half slice of toast with a different kind of jelly, spreading the remaining half with currant jelly. She knew that was Miss Annabelle’s favorite. She spread a napkin on Miss Annabelle’s lap and placed another within easy reach. “That be all, Miss Annabelle?”
Miss Annabelle nodded without looking up. Daisy q
uietly slipped into her room and dressed as quickly as she could. She didn’t dare take time to braid her hair, but quickly combed it out and tied it with an old ribbon that Miss Annabelle no longer wanted. When she reached the kitchen again, Mama had two heaping plates waiting.
“Oh, Mama, you can’t give me as much as Miss Annabelle.”
Mama quickly took some potatoes off the stoneware plate. She heaped them on the china plate. Daisy took off a biscuit and a sausage patty.
“Will you have enough, now?” Mama asked. “You’re so thin.”
“I’ve plenty, Mama. Miss Annabelle can’t eat all o’ hers. I can have her leftovers.”
Mama smiled and quickly added the biscuit and sausage to the other plate. “You need to remember to call me Cook, though. ‘Tis important no one knows. Call me Cook even in your mind, so you never forget.”
Daisy nodded and hurried away with the tray. She quietly entered the room to find Miss Annabelle fast asleep again. Daisy smiled. Just as Mama . . . oops! . . . Cook had said. Daisy glanced at the plate on the table. Good! Miss Annabelle had eaten every bite of the toast. She would probably sleep awhile. Daisy filled her own cup with tea and then spread one of Mama-Cook’s soft, fluffy biscuits with butter and jelly. She ate it while she braided her hair. With that finished, she sat down to enjoy her breakfast. It was the best she’d had in a long time.
Daisy shined Miss Annabelle’s shoes and once again checked her clothes, so everything would be ready when she woke up. Seeing nothing else to do, Daisy slipped back into her own tiny room. It seemed her head had barely touched the thin pillow when she heard Miss Annabelle.
“Daisy! Where’s my breakfast?”
Daisy hurried into the next room and quickly uncovered the tray and set it before her. Miss Annabelle eyed the plate. “Where’s yours?”
“I ate while you slept.”
“I’ll bet you did. How many sausages did you have?” Miss Annabelle asked, still scowling.
“Just one, Miss Annabelle.”
“I wanted it. You gobbled it up so I couldn’t get it, didn’t you?”
“No, Ma’am. If you want, I can ask Cook for more. I thought I better hurry and eat, so I could get your clothes ready for you.”
Suddenly Annabelle remembered what day it was. “We have to hurry! Shine my shoes!” Daisy picked up the already-shined shoes and rubbed them again with a soft cloth.
Miss Annabelle stopped eating. “Daisy!” she shouted. “Get changed! You have to go with me, you know. And get shoes on!”
“But I ain’t got no shoes, Miss Annabelle.” Daisy didn’t know what surprised her more, that she was expected to go along to the festivities, or that she was expected to wear shoes. She’d never worn shoes in her life.
Miss Annabelle sighed. “Tell Chloe to come in here, right now!”
Daisy hurried into the hallway and almost immediately found Chloe, the upstairs slave. The next few minutes passed in a blur as Chloe dug into Miss Annabelle’s closet to find shoes Miss Annabelle no longer wanted, but that Daisy could wear. Then came stockings and a dress. After that, Chloe helped Miss Annabelle dress, while Daisy changed and undid her hair. Chloe then redid Daisy’s hair.
“You’re beautiful,” Chloe whispered to Daisy.
“Come on!” called Miss Annabelle, racing to the stairs. Daisy hurried after her, but remembered just in time that she was not allowed to take the front stairs. She rushed down the back stairs and hurried to the front of the house. Miss Annabelle was already being helped into the fancy blue and gold carriage.
Daisy stopped in amazement. They were going with the carriage! She hurried to catch up.
“No, Daisy, no!” called a voice.
Daisy looked up to see Ted holding the horses. “You can’t go with the family. You gots to go with the other slaves. The wagon is in the back of the house.”
Daisy smiled her thanks and rushed to the back of the house. Of course, she should have known better. That carriage was much too fancy for the likes of her.
To her surprise, Mama . . . Cook, was standing beside the wagon with a lunch basket. “You goin’ along, Missy? Please, be careful!” Mama looked worried.
CHAPTER TWO
Trouble in Town
“DO BE VERY CAREFUL,” WHISPERED Cook. “And don’t forget. We can’t read.” She subtly squeezed Daisy’s hand.
Daisy didn’t dare look at Cook and barely nodded, as she climbed into the wagon. She quickly sat down on the loose straw. Not until the wagon started to move did she dare glance back at Cook. Cook was waving to everyone. Their glances met for an instant. Daisy saw fear in Cook’s dark, gentle eyes. Cook immediately averted her glance.
“Have fun everyone,” Cook called, cheerily.
Daisy wondered if she imagined the fear she read in Mama’s eyes. Cook’s eyes, she corrected herself. If Daisy was right, Cook certainly didn’t want Daisy to show it.
“Bye, Cook,” called Daisy, trying to force herself to relax.
“Cook seems nice,” murmured Henrietta from the seat in front. Henrietta was Mrs. Clemmons head slave. Daisy was always a little in awe of Henrietta.
“That she do,” agreed Thomas, the butler. “I doubt we’re going to have any problems with her. She seems like a real lady.” Daisy’s heart swelled with pride.
“Don’t let Miz Clemmons hear you calling any slave a lady,” said Henrietta, with a chortle. “She thinks they don’t make ladies in our shade o’ color!”
Daisy was surprised to hear everyone in the wagon laughing. She felt herself relaxing. This was going to be such fun! Only an hour ago, she hadn’t even known she was expected to go along. Now she was on the way! She tried to shift her feet in the uncomfortable shoes. Daisy felt excitement coursing through her veins. She hadn’t been off the Six Oaks Plantation since she became Miss Annabelle’s personal slave over five years ago. And now she was going into town for the festivities! Daisy shivered as she remembered Cook’s warning and the fearful look in her eyes.
“You cold?” asked Lucy, who was sitting beside her.
Daisy shook her head. “Just excited.”
Lucy nodded. “It’s excitin’. You ever been before?” Daisy shook her head. “It’ll be fun! Lotsa noise and such.”
“It be noisy,” agreed one of the livery boys. Daisy wasn’t sure what his name was. The others joined in, telling her about the firecrackers, people shooting guns in the air “for no reason ‘tall,” and other noisy things until Daisy found herself wishing she had stayed at home.
Lucy seemed to sense her uneasiness. She patted Daisy’s arm. “Don’t worry. ‘Tis perfectly harmless.”
Soon the others were reminding each other of funny happenings of previous years and everyone was laughing again, including Daisy. She decided to enjoy the day as much as possible and still be on her guard.
Later, after eating the delicious lunch Cook had packed for them, Daisy decided to sit under a shade tree and rest her weary feet. Wearing shoes for the first time had turned out to be a painful experience. Lucy had assured her Miss Annabelle and the rest of the family wouldn’t need them for quite a while because they had gone into the hotel to eat. Daisy sank into the soft grass with a grateful sigh. She reached to unlace her shoes.
“Don’t!” commanded Henrietta. Daisy glanced up in surprise. Henrietta looked at her sympathetically. “‘Twill hurt so much you won’t be able to put them back on. Best to just leave ‘em on. Just rest while ya can. I’ll get some salve for you tonight.”
Daisy reluctantly retied her shoes and leaned back to relax.
“Them boys!” Thomas scolded. “They’ve gone an’ left the bucket an’ dipper here.”
“I’ll take it,” Daisy volunteered, rising to her feet. She turned her face to hide her pain.
“You sure?” Henrietta frowned. “I’m guessin’ your shoes is painin’ ya powerful bad.”
“I can take it,” Daisy said, much more bravely than she felt. “Ain’t far.”
“Be mighty careful, a
n’ hurry back,” Henrietta admonished.
Daisy shuddered as she remembered Cook’s warning, so similar to Henrietta’s. She hurried around the building where the wagon was parked. As Daisy lifted the empty pail onto the wagon, she heard a loud whisper.
“Psst! Missy!” Daisy decided to ignore it. But as she turned to go, a large burly man blocked her way. She glanced up quickly, and then dropped her head submissively. One look at his face made her insides quiver! He looked mean!
He seemed to sense her reaction and softened his voice. “Ma’am,” he said as he removed his hat.
Daisy felt more alert than ever. White men just didn’t remove their hats or call slaves “Ma’am.”
“Ma’am,” he said, again, as if knowing he had her full attention. “I have a note here for Mr. Clemmons. You see, his wife is making a birthday gift for my wife, and I wanted to give him some specifics. That is, tell her what size and colors to make it and how and everything. If you could just read this note so I can destroy it. Please, hurry! I’m afraid my wife will come looking for me, then it will all be ruined.”
Cook’s warning flashed through Daisy’s mind. “But, Suh,” she said timidly, carefully keeping her eyes off the note. “I’s never had no learning.”
“Don’t be foolish,” scolded the man. “I know many house slaves can read. I’ll see that you’re rewarded for this. What would you like? A new dress, maybe?” His voice had softened, again. “You’d look lovely in pink. I’ll bet you’ve never had a new dress of you own.”
“I’m sorry, Suh,” repeated Daisy. She backed as far against the wagon as she could.
“Look,” coaxed the man. He held some coins under her face. “This is just the beginning, if you cooperate.”
“I’m sorry, Suh,” said Daisy, again, trying to hide her fear, and wondering how she could escape.
“I know you’re not happy with your master. I’ll help you escape.” He continued in a soothing tone, “I know they don’t always treat you right. You should be treated like a lady!” He moved even closer.
“I love my master!” exclaimed Daisy. She truly did! Because she felt the Lord Jesus Christ was her Lord and Master, no matter who owned her. Suddenly she remembered that she could pray! She had been too frightened to think of praying. “Jesus,” she prayed silently, “I know You love me. Tell me how to escape.”