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

  I will leave her soon. The thought hit him like a blow to the chest. She would not run, and he could not stay. His stomach twisted. Not only would he have to leave her in slavery, but leave her to suffer whatever consequences came if Goldie did start a revolt.

  He closed the distance between them with wide steps and wrapped his arms around her. She stiffened then relaxed into the hug, her head against his chest. If his heart could speak to her, say how it soared at her being this close, she would have heard it clearly.

  “Leave with me.”

  “Hiram,” she said, and tried to pull away.

  He held on. “Please come with me. I cannot bear to leave you behind. We can have Pastor Matthew marry us before we go. If you got hurt…”

  He felt her tremble in his arms, and her tears wet his shirt. “I can’t, Hiram. I have to buy our freedom. I can’t leave my family behind.”

  “You could get more work in the North than here. You could sell your quilts.”

  She pulled away from him. “You are asking me to leave my family behind to whatever punishment Mr. Madison gives if those men incite a riot?”

  Hiram opened his mouth to contradict her and then realized that was indeed what he was asking her. “I am sorry.”

  She looked up at him, tears streaming down her checks. “If I could go with you, I would.”

  “Winnie…” The words got stuck in his throat. The words he knew were true. He took a step closer, filled his lungs with air, and said, “Winnie, I love you.”

  She let out a small gasp, but in the dim lighting, he could see her eyes sparkling. “I love you too.”

  He pulled her into his arms and she came without resistance. “I don’t care how long it takes, I will wait for you. I will send word through whatever way Pastor Matthew has set up.”

  “Promise me,” she said, her voice almost a whisper.

  “I promise.”

  At that, she returned the hug, wrapping her arms around him. When she did, he remembered what was in his pocket.

  He stepped back from her and removed an envelope with his pay from Mr. Gilchrest. “I will help you buy your freedom. Here is my pay.”

  Winnie covered her mouth and shook her head. She was prepared to do it alone.

  “Take it, Winnie. The sooner you are free, the sooner we can be together.”

  She fell into his arms and wept. His little angel.

  Winnie started a new notebook. Not of slave stories. This one differed from every other notebook she had, but it was just as precious. She sat in the kitchen chair with the book on her lap. The fire glowing in the hearth gave her enough light. She dated the first page and then entered the sum of money that Hiram had given her.

  Hiram, her sweet, gentle man, was helping her get free. She would keep careful records like she had with the fugitives. How different things were now. Before, she was the one arriving to East Towson exhausted from a long workday. Now it was Hiram who staggered to her boardinghouse to give her his pay. Begging him to keep some of his money for himself had proved useless. She had succeeded once, when she all but forced him to buy some better work boots during one of their trips to Baltimore. As she recorded tonight’s payment, she smiled at his words to her.

  “I am a strong, hard worker. There will always be work for strong people.” And every night he seemed to be proving his statement right.

  She yawned and finished the entry. She would need to arrange some of her station records. Pastor Matthew had hinted that someone might be visiting to get the records from the last month. That made her smile too. That all the stories she recorded were going to Mr. Still in Philadelphia. The poor souls who had come through the station, whether liberated in this life or the next, would be remembered.

  She had just touched her pen to the page when the door opened and her mother rushed in.

  Winnie looked up, and seeing her mother’s expression, all her fears about Goldie rushed back. “Mama?”

  “There is a fugitive at the church. A woman. She came with three small children, and one of the babes is sick.”

  Winnie sprang to her feet, set the book down on the chair, and followed her mother.

  The night’s humidity made her feel like she was breathing underwater. Several times she had to swat away mosquitoes. Still, the night smelled of dew and pollen, a soothing smell. She prayed as they walked, for the mother and the little babe. What a great risk this mother took.

  They arrived to find the babe not sick, but lethargic with hunger. The mother had not eaten enough food herself to nurse the baby, so they softened some bread in water for the little one. He ate with gusto, and in the darkness of the moment, his hungry sounds and impatient squawks made them laugh. Winnie marveled at how they could find joy even in this situation.

  They took the exhausted mother and children downstairs and arranged their bedding. Winnie yawned more than once. She did it so frequently that her mother finally turned to her and said, “Go home and get to bed.”

  Winnie chuckled. “I guess I am extra tired tonight.”

  “We are almost done.” Mama carried the babe to his mother. “You go.”

  Winnie started to protest, but another yawn stopped her. “Good night.”

  The night seemed like a dream as she walked, her tiredness making it hard to focus. All she could think of was sleep. Tomorrow would be another day of hard work at the Madison House. Her mistress wanted to turn all the mattresses. Winnie snorted. She had turned the mattresses last month, but she would be expected to do it again.

  Her thoughts drifted and wandered from place to place. Distracted, she almost missed the crunch of footsteps behind her.

  She whipped around to find Goldie behind her, grinning. “Miss Winnie. Odd to find you sneaking about this time of night.”

  “Not sneaking.” Her heart rate ticked up. “I—Pastor Matthew needed help.”

  “Must be real important for you to be out in this dark.”

  “It was.” Winnie struggled for words. But then a question came to her mind. “What are you doing out this late, Goldie?”

  He leered at her. “Tending to my business like you are tending to yours.”

  She held her chin high and put as much confidence as she could into her stance. “Then we should be off to our separate businesses.”

  As they parted, she walked as fast as she could, resisting the urge to look back. Goldie’s business could get them both into trouble, or worse, dead. And so could hers.

  Chapter 8

  Time to say goodbye.

  He had ended his workday at the ironworks early to make the trip down to East Towson for the last time. Mr. Gilchrest had confirmed that everything was in order for tonight. Everything but Hiram’s heart. It was time to leave, but his heart wanted to stay a little longer.

  The sun had dipped, but not enough to cool the temperatures. He spotted Winnie, her parents, and Mr. Samuel standing in the clearing of East Towson. He picked up his pace. Winnie turned as he reached the outermost house and waved. She wore a big smile. Too big to greet a man who was about to leave. He slowed.

  She ran to him. “Come. We have a surprise for you.” She dragged him forward.

  When they reached the clearing, she led him to Mr. Samuel’s boardinghouse and his little garden. It was lined with bright green-leafed plants. She waved her hand. “They grew.”

  Mr. Samuel stepped up beside him, pride in his eyes. “I did what you told me to.”

  Hiram chuckled. “Good job. That should get you a little something come harvesttime.”

  Mr. Samuel clapped him on the back. “Sure gonna miss you.”

  Hiram nodded, a lump in his throat. “Gonna miss you too.”

  A few more East Towson residents filed in behind Mr. Samuel, giving their love and prayers for the rest of his journey. Winnie did not move from her place beside him.

  Ms. Phoebe hugged him. “I know you stayed longer than you wanted, but I am glad you did. I will be praying that you arrive safely in Philadelphia and that you
can get your mother and brothers out.”

  Hiram swallowed. “Thank you.”

  Mr. Paul stepped up and gave him a hearty handshake. Sadness colored his features. They left him alone with Winnie. He led her over to the bench next to his garden.

  “Are you worried about tonight?” she asked.

  “More worried about leaving you here.” Once he boarded the ship, he had no way to protect her. He would have to wait months before he saw her again. How was he going to make himself board the boat knowing she was still here?

  “Goldie has not been seen for days. Even Pastor Matthew thinks he has abandoned his plans.”

  Hiram shook his head. He knew the hatred Goldie had for the Madisons. “He will not give up easy. And if it fails, he will try again.” Hiram sighed. “I remember the hatred I had for my owner, Mr. Toley. There were times when I could have done what Goldie is planning.”

  Winnie looked down at her hands. “It is so hard not to hate.”

  “I could not bring myself to hurt them like they hurt us. I don’t think I could have killed another person, but I believe Goldie could.”

  “I believe he could too.”

  They sat in silence, the weight of their conversation hanging in the air like the remaining warmth of the day. Hiram took in the scene. This would be the last time he would see these beautiful lush trees and grass. How different it had seemed when he first arrived.

  Winnie reached over and laced her fingers between his. He looked down at her and could not miss the tears in her eyes.

  He released her hand and put his arm around her. “I know.”

  He let the remaining time they sat together sink deep into his heart and mind. It would be a long time before he could do this again.

  Winnie managed to hold back the tears when Hiram stood from the bench to return to Baltimore. She did not want to make this any harder for him. She watched him until he reached the church and then let the tears flow. She kept reminding herself that he would be waiting for her in Philadelphia. She only had to make it through another six months, and then they would marry. The excitement of being free burned brighter in her mind. She and her parents would be free, and she would be Hiram’s wife. She made her way to their boardinghouse, heart heavier with every step.

  When they opened the door, her parents met her with sad smiles. Her mother grasped Winnie’s hand and studied her face. “I don’t understand why you don’t go with him.”

  “I need to tell you both something.” Winnie took a breath. “Last year I talked Mr. Madison into allowing me to buy our freedom.”

  Her parents stared at her, their mouths moving like they wanted to speak, but no words came out.

  She continued before they could find their words. “All the extra work I have been doing is to earn money for our freedom.”

  Papa frowned and folded his arms. “No.”

  Winnie let out a soft laugh. “This is why I didn’t want to tell you.”

  “The Madisons agreed to let us go?” her mother asked, hope lightening her tone.

  “Yes.” Winnie exhaled, the weight of that secret off her chest. “They don’t trust Papa anymore, and he is not as useful, now that he is lame.”

  “It is Madison’s fault. Believing that fool,” her father huffed. “He may have to pay for his mistake.”

  “I think Mr. Madison realizes he made a mistake with his treatment of you.” I must tell them the rest. “Mr. Madison suspects there is an attack coming. I overheard him and Mrs. Madison talking about it. Mr. Madison suggested that you were behind the riots. He wants you gone, and once I’ve worked enough to buy our freedom, we will be.”

  Her mother shook her head sadly. “That’s if Goldie doesn’t get us all in trouble again before we can leave.”

  Winnie moved to the hearth. “If Goldie’s plan succeeds, the Madisons won’t be around to punish us. But if the riot fails, I fear that the Madisons will change their minds and sell us to separate plantations.”

  Her father patted her shoulder. “It looks like Goldie’s plan is not coming to anything anyway. But if it does, then we will run like Hiram.” He let out a huff. “I am not so old I can’t run to Pennsylvania.”

  Her mother moved to Winnie and cupped her face. “I know you wanted to earn our freedom a different way, but any way we get to freedom is good enough for me. You are the best daughter, and I love you.”

  Winnie was no longer able to hold back her tears. “I love you too.”

  Her mother wiped her tears. “Your papa and I will start looking for extra work tomorrow. No need for you to carry this burden alone. But tonight, we pray that God protects Hiram.”

  “Amen,” Papa said.

  In her room, Winnie undressed and sank into bed. She began to pray, but the weight of the day soon sent her off to sleep.

  She had not fallen too deeply into sleep before pounding on her door brought her fully awake. Another fugitive at the church? She rose with haste and opened her door. Her mother and father rushed into the room.

  “Let me get my notebook.”

  Her mother grasped her hand, her face grim. “It is not a fugitive.”

  Her heart thudded in her chest. “What is it?”

  Her father grasped her shoulders and turned her toward the window. In the distance, she could see a mob of torch-carrying men making their way down the hill. Night still shrouded them for the most part, but she did not need to be told who they were. She gasped and pressed her hand to her throat.

  “We need to leave here now,” her mother said, jarring her from her shock.

  “Get anything that is important to you and let’s go before they get down the hill,” Papa added.

  Winnie grabbed her notebooks and followed closely behind her parents. She began to pray, but her petitions were unordered. The three of them thundered down the stairs, and Mama opened the front door of the boardinghouse. The view made them all stop short.

  Coming down the hill from Madison House was a large posse armed with guns, led by Mr. Madison. The men in it outnumbered the slaves heading down from the opposite direction.

  “Go!” her father called from behind them. They rushed out the door and around the side of the building. Winnie’s feet moved faster than her mind. She shoved her notebooks in the pockets of her dress.

  They turned the corner to find themselves in a crowd of slaves, Goldie in the front.

  He reached out and grabbed her. “Where ya going, Miss Winnie? Where is your big man?”

  Winnie tried to wrench her arm away from him. “You are all going to die.”

  “Let my daughter go.” Her father grabbed Goldie by the shoulders.

  A couple of men took hold of her father and pulled him away. “Where is the big man?”

  “Gone,” Winnie ground out.

  Goldie snorted. “Coulda used him. I guess you will have to do.” He began dragging her toward the posse.

  “Let me go!” she screamed.

  Mr. Madison and the first line of men entered the clearing. They raised their weapons and cocked them with almost a unified timing. “Get yourselves back to your plantations, and we won’t kill you for this.” Mr. Madison’s voice echoed across the clearing. Winnie fought back a whimper. There was no way they could escape now. Even if the owners would not kill them when they returned to their respective plantations, they would be punished. All of them.

  Goldie extended his hand. “We are only taking a little walk.”

  Mr. Madison didn’t move. “I know what you are planning to do.”

  “You don’t know nothing. Your sweet little Winnie and her family have been harboring fugitives for years right on your land.”

  Mr. Madison’s eyes widened, but his surprise quickly shifted to a seething anger. He yelled at the crowd of slaves, “Go home!”

  “Set us free!” Goldie yelled. The crowd behind him echoed the demand. Winnie looked over her shoulder at her parents. Tears streaked her mother’s face, and her father strained against the men holding him.

>   There was no way out. As careful as they had been, everything was ruined by another slave. Winnie’s heart heaved, and she braced herself.

  Mr. Madison, seeing that Goldie was not backing down, raised his weapon, aimed, and fired.

  The sound of the shot echoed across the field. The bullet hit Goldie, driving him to the ground and taking Winnie with him. She heard her mother scream, and the shots began in earnest. Goldie groaned next to her, and she freed herself from him. Her tears blurred her vision, and in the melee, she could not find her parents. She crawled on her hands and knees through the dropping bodies. They are no match for guns.

  She reached the back edge of the crowd rushing toward the posse. She crawled past Hiram’s garden, sobbing so hard her chest ached. She scrambled to her feet and turned to the crowd. There was a blur of activity.

  “Mama! Papa!” she screamed, but if they could hear her, there was no response. She stumbled backward and spotted Mr. Madison. He made eye contact and ran toward her.

  She bolted. Shots sounded behind her, but she did not dare look back. She reached the last boardinghouse, and the church loomed in front of her. Lord, help me. A yell sounded behind her, and she turned. At the edge of the clearing, her mother stumbled. Mr. Madison was gone.

  “Mama!”

  “Run, Winnie. Don’t stop.”

  A man from the posse ran from between the buildings, knocking her mother down. Winnie screamed as she watched her mother scooting away from the man.

  Suddenly, her father appeared behind the man and clubbed him down. “Winnie, go!”

  It broke her heart, but she ran.

  Chapter 9

  Hiram found it hard to sit still. Mr. Gilchrest’s office seemed to get smaller with each minute. Pastor Matthew patted his leg. “Everything will be fine.”

  Hiram tried to smile, but he was sure he grimaced instead. “Wish we could be off already.” He dared not say it, but doubt had begun to creep into his mind. Did he want to be free without Winnie?