The Underground Railroad Brides Collection: 9 Couples Navigate the Road to Freedom Before the Civil War

by Barbara Tifft Blakey, Ramona K. Cecil, Lynn A. Coleman, Cecelia Dowdy, Patty Smith Hall, Terri J. Haynes, Debby Lee, Darlene Panzera

  Mrs. Kimbrel went back to her conversation with Mr. Tyler. “To answer your question, Randall, I started as a cabin boy at the age of twelve. I come from a sailing family, so I have been on sailing vessels since before I could walk. I’ve been a captain for three years now. It was a lot of work, but the owners saw that I was a man of honor and sober mind, so I was given an opportunity. They were pleased. I not only have the responsibility of the owners of the vessel, but I also have to meet the needs of my customers.”

  “Where have you sailed to?” Charlotte asked. He could see the wanderlust in her pretty blue eyes. She was a fine-looking young woman.

  “Around the world. I’ve been to the Far East, Europe…but most of my work since I became captain has been on the east coast of America.”

  “I’d like to travel someday,” Charlotte admitted. “Mother speaks of England and Paris with such a fondness—”

  “They are beautiful cities,” Mrs. Kimbrel interjected.

  “I prefer to stay here in Savannah.” James Tyler voiced his opinion. “It has all the culture I need.”

  “Me too.” Davis sat up. “There isn’t another city like Savannah.”

  “Have you traveled much, Mr. Kimbrel?” Zachery asked Davis.

  “Nah, don’t need to. We got it all right here. We live on the plantation most of the year and in the city during the hotter months. There, a man can have a different female escort every night if he were so inclined.” Davis grinned.

  Charlotte squirmed. She definitely had a difference of opinion with her brother. Zachery turned toward Charlotte. “Where else would you like to travel to, Miss Charlotte?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I’ve read about so many different places. Some are so deep in the interior of a country it would take a year to visit.”

  “Such as?” Zachery enjoyed the fire starting to ignite in Charlotte.

  “The Iguazu Falls in Argentina. I suppose that isn’t too far inland, but what about the Amazon River? I’ve heard it is dangerous and man-eating fish live there.”

  “Piranhas, yes, which in part explains my desire to stay on the oceans.” Zachery chuckled.

  “Don’t sharks attack people?” Pearl asked.

  “Goodness! Such conversations coming from my daughters.”

  “Sorry, Mother,” Charlotte and Pearl said in unison.

  “I understand that to meet a man who has sailed around the world is rather interesting, but I’m certain there are topics he can speak to that are far more edifying.”

  The servants, or rather house slaves, came and cleared their dinner dishes as they made the table ready for dessert. Zach could feel Charlotte’s curiosity rise. Truthfully, she had captured his attention as well. After a delicious peach cobbler, Mr. Kimbrel led the men to his study and closed out the women and his youngest son. Zach prayed he wasn’t in for another discussion on the values of slavery. He’d heard his share over the years, and he definitely did not share the views of most Southern plantation owners.

  Mr. Kimbrel lit a cigar and leaned against a large mahogany desk. “So, Captain Browne, do you fancy my daughter?”

  Charlotte wanted to eavesdrop, but she had some food she needed to get out to the runaways. She went to her room, changed, and slipped into the kitchen without her mother noticing. Maggie was still cleaning up. “Don’t you be sneaking out there tonight, Miss Charlotte. I knows what’s going on. I’s take care of it.”

  “But—”

  “Don’t you never mind. I’s knows.”

  “I can’t let you get caught. You’ll be whipped for sure.”

  “I’s knows what I’s doing. Trust me.”

  “I’ll let you feed them, but I’m taking them to freedom tomorrow. I can walk slaves down the street and no one will be the wiser. You can’t.”

  Maggie nodded. “How many?”

  “Three—a man, his wife, and a toddler.”

  Maggie shooed her away. Charlotte stepped onto the servants’ stairs. “Who were you speaking with, Maggie?” Mrs. Kimbrel asked.

  “Just some slave talk. I’s planning a real fine breakfast for ya in the mornin’.”

  “Nothing too fancy. I ate too much this evening. You did a fine job, Maggie. I appreciate it.”

  “Ain’t nothin’. Just doin’ my job.”

  Charlotte needed to be more careful. She slipped back up the stairs to her room. She was putting not only the slaves she was helping escape in harm’s way, but also her own slaves. They would be blamed if the runaways were caught. No one would believe she was the one helping them escape. They’d rather think she was trying to cover for the slaves to help them avoid punishment.

  “Charlotte!” her mother called. “Can you come down here, please?”

  Fear washed over her. Charlotte stepped out of her room and approached the stairway.

  “What are you wearing?”

  “Sorry, Mother. I was changing into my nightclothes.”

  Her mother waved her back up the stairs then turned her attention back to their guests. “I’m sorry, Charlotte is indisposed at the moment,” she could hear her mother say.

  The next morning Charlotte attended to her chores then slipped out without further notice. She scurried to her hiding place. The plan was to have the male runaway push them down the Savannah in a pole boat and help them buy passage on a ship.

  Maggie’s husband, Jed, came over to the dock. “Can I help you, miss?”

  “No, we’re fine.”

  “And how will you be bringing the pole boat back?” Jed asked.

  “Oh.”

  “Let me come with you and stay with the boat,” Jed pleaded.

  “Are you certain?”

  “Yes, miss. We’s too old to run now.”

  “Thank you, Jed.”

  An hour later, they were in Savannah proper, and Charlotte was looking at the various ships, trying to find the right one to purchase passage for the family. The gentleman she usually worked with who helped process and hide the runaways at the church was out of town. She walked the streets, which were cobbled with old ballast stones from various ships that had come to the harbor. Mounds of cotton bales and barrels full of molasses and sugar syrup gave a unique smell to the air when mixed with the brackish water of the river.

  The stern of one ship read the Lady Grace. She scanned the crew loading cargo. Standing next to the gangway was the familiar stance of—“Captain Browne?”

  He turned. His smile brightened. “Miss Charlotte. A pleasure to see you this fine morning. How can I help you?”

  “Are you heading north?”

  He stiffened at her question then answered, “Yes.”

  “May I purchase passage for this family?”

  He narrowed his gaze then grabbed her by the elbow, moved her away from her runaways, and whispered, “Are you trying to have me arrested?”

  “What? No. I simply want to purchase tickets for these slaves to visit up north.”

  “Don’t lie to me. You’re smuggling them, aren’t you?”

  She clamped her mouth shut. If she admitted it, she could be arrested.

  “Fine,” he said, and she hurried back to her runaways. “Get on board.” He cracked a whip.

  People turned, noticed he was moving slaves, and went back to their business, ignoring the captain as he placed them on his ship.

  He came back. “Do you have papers?”

  “Of course not.”

  “You are something. Does your family know?” He pointed to the ship.

  “Of course not.”

  He wagged his head. “I’ll try to get them safely to the North, but there are no guarantees. Do you know your father offered your hand in marriage to me last night?”

  “He what?”

  “Seems he thought we had a lively conversation.”

  Heat infused her cheeks. She relaxed her stance.

  “Seems he’s concerned that his twenty-two-year-old daughter hasn’t married. He offered me a thousand-dollar dowry.”

  Catchi
ng her voice, she asked, “What did you say?”

  Zachery Browne chuckled. “I said I’d consider it. Truth be told, this is quite possibly my last trip to the South. My employers are losing interest in dealing with businesses down here.”

  “That’s fine. I don’t think my father would approve of our courtship.”

  Zachery laughed. “My dear Charlotte, you have no idea how much your father and brothers are concerned by your Yankee thoughts.”

  “My Yankee thoughts?”

  “Seems that you have expressed the wrongness of slavery on more than one occasion. Which was enough to convince James Tyler that you wouldn’t be a suitable wife for him.”

  “Thank the Lord for that blessing.” Her face momentarily brightened.

  “You’re a rare jewel among women, Miss Charlotte. I can offer you passage to the North as well, but I won’t be offering my hand in marriage.”

  “That’s a relief.” She paused. “My place is here. I have a purpose working in…” she lowered her voice, “the Underground Railroad.”

  “I am well acquainted with the secrecy. But you are far from discreet. You marched these slaves down the boardwalk without a care in the world. Your father is well known. His slaves are well known. Don’t you think someone would recognize you at some point?”

  “Perhaps. But I’ve been freeing slaves for six months now.”

  Captain Browne shook his head. “You are a marvel, Miss Charlotte. Have a good day.”

  He turned and left her standing there on the ship-lined wharf. The heat of the sun and the rotting fish upset Charlotte’s stomach. She turned and headed back to Jed. Her father was trying to marry her off. Worse yet, he and her brother Davis didn’t want her around. What did she have to go back home for?

  Charlotte told Jed to return to the plantation and to let her parents know she would be staying in Savannah for a night or two. She then headed straight to the bank and withdrew most of her money. She stopped at a couple of stores and purchased a carpetbag, some clothes, and other items for travel. Life in Savannah had just ended. She glanced back at Bay Street and headed toward the wharf. She might just be the first white woman to ride the Underground Railroad.

  Chapter 2

  Zachery couldn’t believe the predicament he’d gotten himself into. Not only did he have three extra runaways on board, for a total of seven, but now he had a Southern belle taking up his quarters. He rubbed the back of his neck. “How’d that happen?”

  “Cap?” his first mate questioned.

  “Just mumbling.”

  Frank laughed. “You’ve been doing that a lot since we left Savannah.”

  “Don’t remind me.” Zach looked over his map and took his readings. “Two more hours until we hit Port Royal.”

  “Yes, sir. That’s what I figure. Tides running with us.”

  Zach nodded. “I’d better go to my quarters and see if Miss Kimbrel is in need of anything.”

  Frank snickered. “Better you than me.”

  “You’ll have Charlotte duty tomorrow.”

  “She ain’t bad to look at but…can I swab the decks instead?”

  “You mean I’m stuck with this duty?”

  “You’re the captain.” Frank whistled and focused on the compass heading. He’d been Zach’s first mate for the past year and a half. They worked well together, and Zach could trust him with any task at hand.

  Zach headed to his quarters and knocked on the door. “Miss Charlotte?”

  “I’ll be right there,” she answered through the closed door. The ship shifted to starboard. Zach glanced back at Frank. He nodded and continued sailing toward Port Royal. He stood on his tiptoes to see what Frank was avoiding. Spotting nothing, he focused on the door opening in front of him. Her pale blue eyes stared into his for a moment. He cleared his throat. “I’ve come to let you know we’ll be stopping in Port Royal for a couple hours. If you’d like to stretch your legs.”

  “Thank you, Captain.” She stepped back into his room and closed the door. Zach didn’t know if that meant she would be getting off the ship or not.

  He shook his head. She was beautiful, but she had a mind of her own. He turned and headed back to the helm. “What was that jolt for?”

  “Porpoise. You know I love sailing with them.” Frank laughed.

  Zach took the helm. “Get the cargo ready for delivery,” he ordered. Frank left, and Zach focused on the compass and the various landmasses. Port Royal was actually an island in the middle of Port Royal Sound, with Hilton Head Island on the south and Philips Island to the north of the entrance. To reach the port for Beaufort, South Carolina, he’d travel farther up the river. But since Port Royal served his purpose, he didn’t need to go farther, and his destination to the north was a higher priority. The large marsh and grassy fields extended into the bay, but a good navigator had no trouble going around them.

  As they made it to the island, Zach sailed past the fishery docks and on to the cargo area. One of his runaways had family in town and wanted to get a message to them. Zach found an excuse to pick up some oysters. Word had it that good oysters could be found in Port Royal. Not to mention, he had four additional passengers to feed on this voyage.

  Onshore he found some canned oysters and bought several cases to bring north and a bushel of fresh ones for his men and their trip north. He also purchased a thousand pounds of rice. Stores in the North would be running low. Of course, most Northerners preferred the potato. He checked over the inventory to see if there was anything else he wouldn’t be bringing north for a while. “Indigo. I’d like ten pounds of that, please.” The salesman smiled, obviously happy for additional sales. “You are certain you want forty-five hundred grams?”

  “Yes, please. I have a textile company who will be glad to have the brilliant blues made from it.”

  The salesman nodded and went to work wrapping ten pounds in one-pound packages of brown paper and sealing them with string. The smaller packages would make it easier to sell.

  The door to the warehouse opened. Miss Kimbrel entered. “May I help you, miss? This isn’t the place for a lady. If you walk down Paris Avenue, you’ll find a mercantile more to your liking,” the merchant offered.

  “Do I have time, Captain?” She glanced at him with her piercing blue eyes.

  Zach nodded. “Certainly. I’ll have one of my men fetch you if we are ready to depart before you return.”

  “Thank you.” She exited the warehouse, and the merchant looked at him. “She’s a passenger?”

  “Yup. I’m bunking with my mates.”

  The man laughed and finished packing up the indigo. “Enjoy your voyage.” He wagged his head. “Ain’t no place for women on a working man’s vessel. Your men don’t mind a woman being on board?”

  “They haven’t quit yet.”

  He nodded and went back to his inventory.

  Once everything was loaded and Miss Kimbrel wasn’t back, Zach started to ask Jake, one of his men, to go fetch her. Zach spotted her marching down the street, her skirt fluttering behind and being forced forward as she took elongated steps toward the ship.

  Zach rubbed his face with his handkerchief and stuffed it back in his pocket. “Never mind, Jake. She’s a-coming.”

  “I can see that, sir. All I can say is I’m glad she stayed in your cabin. Ain’t right to have women on board a working vessel.”

  “I know, but, well, I can’t explain it, but she needed this trip as much as some of our other passengers.”

  Jake nodded and went back to work. Once Miss Kimbrel was on board, the ship departed. Zach piloted the Lady Grace out of Port Royal Bay. After they were past the outer islands, he set their course north and gave Frank the helm. Out to sea, they could let the slaves out of hiding and give them freedom to roam the decks. If, however, a ship approached, the signal was given, and they went back in hiding. Bales of cotton stacked to appear to be more than there were made for an excellent hiding place.

  The first day of sail out of Port Roy
al was uneventful. A storm blew in the next morning.

  Charlotte held her stomach. It rolled and flipped with the rocking of the boat. She needed fresh air. But she didn’t feel safe roaming the ship. Why, she wasn’t certain. She felt safer in the captain’s quarters. The room was lined with wooden shelves, a desk, a bed, and a nightstand. There was also a small table and chairs for the captain’s meals, she presumed. The room had no feminine touches, and it spoke volumes about Captain Browne’s tastes in literature and art.

  The ship bucked to the right, or starboard, or whatever side of the ship it was. She turned herself around and faced the door to the room. Port, the left side of the ship. Left has four letters, so does port. Charlotte decided she could remember it that way—she hoped.

  Her stomach rolled with the next wave. She turned around and walked toward the stern of the ship, where a couple of windows faced where they’d been. The angry ocean rolled. Rain spat against the windows. Surf splashed against them as well. Or maybe it wasn’t the surf because they were higher up, weren’t they? Charlotte didn’t know. She’d never traveled by ocean before. Only by train, and that was limited to two trips up to Augusta with her entire family. Father wasn’t a traveler. Mother enjoyed traveling, but Father ruled the roost. Her heart cinched knowing her parents would be worried. She’d mailed a letter in Port Royal to her parents, explaining she’d left Savannah to travel the country up to New York and she might possibly take a trip to Europe. She would mail them as soon as she arrived. She hoped and prayed that her parents wouldn’t put together that she’d left on Captain Browne’s ship. Then again, it would be a logical assumption. Father God, please do not let any harm come to Captain Browne because he granted me passage on his ship.

  A ray of sunshine split the clouds but was immediately swallowed up by the thick gray clouds. Charlotte smiled, confident that God would honor her prayers.

  A loud bang rumbled the door in its frame. Charlotte carefully went to open the door. A sailor dressed in drenched oilskins stood there and nodded. “Miss Kimbrel, the captain said to stay in your cabin. It is not fit for you to be walking on the decks.”