by Day Taylor
Dulcie passed by, saw him glaring belligerently at nothing, and prudently went on upstairs. She tapped hghtly at her mother's door.
"Go away," came a muflSed voice.
"Mama, it's Dulcie."
"Let me alone!" Her mother was crying.
For half an hour Dulcie paced the sewing room. She couldn't stand waiting a moment longer. Legs trembling, she approached the study. The door was locked, and her father did not answer.
He might be outside. She ran anxiously to the stables. "Daddy?"
"Your tender-hearted daddy's in the big house gettin* drunk," replied a sarcastic voice.
Dulcie jumped. "Wolf! You startled mel What are you doin' here?"
Wolf's obsequiousness extended only to Jem and Patricia. "I'm doin' what your daddy ordered. I'm lockin' up ever' nigger on the place."
"You're what!? Who told you to do that? Daddy never—"
"My advice to you is to stay in the house where you belong."
"Since when do you presume to speak to me like that? My father's goin' to hear about this!"
"Now that there's a real threat, Miss Dulcie. Jes' what you expect he'll do about it?"
Dulcie walked quickly by the rows of cabins. They were all shut. Two of Jem's big drivers patrolled the area, holding whips. "What's happening, Barney?"
Barney rolled his eyes; Wolf was behind her. "We dunno. Miss Dulcie."
Angry and frightened, Dulcie returned to the house. It would be dusk soon. She had no wish to be caught after dark anywhere near Wolf in his present access of power, with her mother locked in one room and her father in another.
Behind her parents' door there were footsteps moving to and fro, and other small familiar but unidentifiable sounds. She knocked firmly. "Mama! Mama! I want to talk to you!"
"Later, Dulcie deah," came her mother's calm voice.
But her mother did not appear for dinner. The study door stayed locked. Dulcie ate alone. The servants came in, put the courses on the table, and left. An air of tenseness was all over the house. And where was Claudine?
"Ah ain't seen her. Miss Dulcie," Violet muttered.
For the first time in her life Dulcie went to bed with her door locked. Sleep would not come. It was not like the night—^had it been only two nights before?—when she had hugged her pillow and daydreamed about Leroy until morning light. Everything was dreadfully wrong. A man had been flogged, an unheard-of thing at Mossrose. The blacks were locked in their cabins; the house servants were sullen and edgy. Neither Mama nor Daddy would speak to her. And Wolf was in charge.
Dulcie was still awake when a light tap came and a whispered "Miss Dulcie.'*
She unlocked the door. "Claudine! Where were you!?'*
"That ol' Wolf shet me in a cabin wiff the fiel' womens. Ah tell him Ah'm a house nigger, an' he jes' laugh. He doan let me out 'til dey goes to work."
"Did you find out what happened?"
"Fiel' ban's doan know nothin' noways, an' dey doan know nothin' dis time either."
"Is the study door still shut? And Mama's bedroom?'*
"Miss Trishy's door shet, but ain't nobody in the steddy.**
At breakfast Patricia looked worn, her eyes puffy. "Ah know nothin* o' what happened, Dulcie. Nor would Ah wish to discuss it if Ah did. Ah'm goin' ovah to Mrs. Saunders's today, you'll recall."
Dulcie did remember. Glenn's mother, somewhere in her forties and grandmother of three, was having a late baby. "Do you have to go so soon? Couldn't you wait till she sends for you?"
Patricia's mouth grew firm. "Ah am goin' today, Dulcie.'*
For several nights more the blacks were locked up. During the day Barney guarded Fellie's cabin. Jem seemed very busy while Patricia was gone. He had selected several new drivers, and they were posted everywhere, in the fields, the cobbler's shop, the spinning house, and the rush-hat manufactory. He came in late for meals, if at all, and was gone in the morning before Dulcie rose. He was avoiding her.
She waited in the study all one evening, sitting quietly without a light, until he came in to sit with his boots off and enjoy a drink before bedtime. "Lucius!" he bellowed. "Why isn't this lamp lit?"
"I blew it out," Dulcie said. "Daddy, I've got to talk to you."
He glanced over at her. "Well, I'm too tired. I don't want to talk. Go to bed, Dulcie, we'll talk in the momin'."
"You haven't spoken to me in days!" Dulcie burst into tears. "Mama's gone, and you don't want anythin' to do with me!"
Lucius came to the door, "Yassuh, Mastah Jem?'*
"Fix me a stiff drink and shut the door when Miss Dulcie goes out." He sank down in his chair, and Lucius pulled off his boots for him. Dulcie remained seated. Jem sighed deeply. "All right, Dulcie, what're you after?'*
"I just want to know what's g-goin' on!"
"You'll have to stop that bawlin'. I can't abide it."
"I'm tryin'. Daddy!" While her father sipped his drink, Dulcie wiped her eyes and blew her nose and regained some self-control. "Tell me what happened. Please. Why did Wolf whip Fellie?"
"Didn't you find out from the servants? They always know everythin'."
"I'd rather you told me."
"Fellie forgot he's nothin' but a nigger.'*
"What did he do?"
"He tried to kiU Spig Hurd.**
Dulcie felt as if the wind had been kicked out of her.
"Ohhh." She put her hand to her stomach. She and Jem stared at each other. "I see."
"I doubt it." Jem sipped again. "I very much doubt it." Dulcie, unknowingly, had provided him the opportunity to justify his actions to himself. "If it had been up to you, Miss, you'd have shaken your finger at him and sent him to his tick for a little nap."
Dulcie's temper rose, as Jem had hoped. "I wouldn't have sold his children in the first place 11 certainly wouldn't have let Wolf flog himl Of all the cruel, senseless—"
Jem leaned forward angrily. "Cruel, it it? Senseless? Dulcie Jeannette Moran, you've got little in your head if you can't see why Fellie had to be flogged. If Wolf hadn't stopped Fellie's hand, a white man would be dead. Fellie would be hanged. I'd be lucky if I didn't get the samel"
"But he didn't kiU Mr. HurdI"
"No, but he tried to! He tried! Within sight of half the blacks on the plantation, Fellie tried to kill a white man! Just what do you think would have happened if Fellie'd gotten away with that? Tell me!"
Dulcie opened her mouth but was not given time to answer.
"You've lived your entire life on a plantation where the blacks are satisfied. They have their prayerhouse and their frolics. They aren't locked in or punished as long as they behave themselves. I thought I was bein' kind to them— but it was carelessness. They're all feelin' too full of themselves, and Fellie is just one example. He goes back to work tomorrow—under a driver and in chains."
"In chains?" Dulcie whispered.
Jem's voice rose to a shout. "Is your hearin' leavin' you? Yes, chains! He's got to be taught a lesson he'U never forget. And the rest of them too. We'll see how fast they try to start an uprisin', with that before them as a constant reminder!"
Dulcie said coldly, **That's spreadin' the punishment a little thick."
"Who are you to judge. Miss! A girl barely turned sixteen! I tell you, the blacks have got to be kept under control! If they're not, they'll take matters into their own hands!"
"Doesn't that prove they're human? Thinkin*—^feelin'— hurtin'—"
"We're back to that again are we? No! They don't think.
and they don't feel, any more than other animals do!"
Dulcie's throat constricted as she thought of the Negroes in the kitchen sobbing for Fellie's pain, and those in the wagon, and Claudine, sharing it in spirit. But she could not speak.
"Did you ever see a pack of dogs tear up a bitch in heat because they couldn't get at her fast enough? Does that make the dogs human? Does it?"
"No—but—"
"You're a Southerner, second generation, my own flesh and blood, and damn my e
yes if you don't talk like a preacher! You're just like your mother! Too gentle! Too soft-hearted! Wrong-headed and feisty."
Dulcie rose, her skirts rustling. "If I'm feisty, I get it straight from you! You've told me so, often enough. And if I'm wrongheaded, I know where that comes from tool'* She turned to go.
"Dulcie Jeannette!" her father roared. "I will not allow you to be impudent to me."
"I'm going to bed!" Dulcie yelled back and ran up the stairs. She locked her door and threw herself on her bed, crying in angry frustration.
Claudine came out of her dressing room, looking fearful. "Miss Dulcie, somethin' else happen." Her voice was pitched low.
"I don't want to hear about it!" Dulcie cried. Then she looked at Claudine. "What did you say?"
"Fellie gwine run off. Miss Dulcie."
Hastily Dulcie wiped her tears and sat up. "How can he? He's not well. He's locked up."
Claudine leaned nearer, whispering. "Dey's not locked up any mo'. Mastah Jem's keepin' the drivers patterollin', but dey's all ca'm down now, so dey ain't lock in.'*
"How did you find that out?"
"Ah was out foolin' 'round wiff Barney awhiles.'*
"You mean Barney told you that?"
"No'm, he lets me go in an' see Ester. One de pickaninnies tell me. His mama slap him good. She say he fibbin', but he ain't."
Dulcie stared at Claudine unblinking, her quick, impulsive mind racing. Claudine shrank away. "Ah doan mean to get Fellie in no mo' trouble, Miss Dulcie. He still mighty sickly."
"Hush, I'm thinkin'. Dulcie rubbed her arms where the
delicate gooseflesh of risk had made her chilly. Before judgment could weaken her resolve she asked, "Is Ester goin' along?"
"Ah dunno. Ah wish Ah never tell you."
"Claudine, get out my ridin' outfit. And find that old pair of britches and a heavy shirt for yourself."
"Miss Dulcie!" Claudine gasped. "What you thinkin' on? Oh, no! Oh, no! Lawdy Lawd, what Ah done do?"
"Do you want to go, or stay here and explain to Daddy why you didn't keep me from goin'?"
"Ah doan wanta do neither one! Ah's too afeerd! Miss Dulcie, please! Oh, Lawd, what Ah done!"
"Oh, calm down. We won't do anythin' till Daddy comes to bed. Tell me, who else is patrollin' besides Barney? What's Wolf doin'?"
"Mistah Woof snorin' like a bull in his cabin. Dick an' Barney's all, an' dey's sleepy too. Might be dey take a li'l wink 'fo' long."
"Shove that rug up against the door crack so Daddy won't see my lamp. I've got some work to do."
By the time Jem went woozily to bed, Dulcie had sent Claudine to Fellie's cabin with a message and, in a creditable imitation of Jem's handwriting, had made up six letters freeing Fellie, Ester, and their four remaining children:
On the 10th day of Octo. 1860, I, James Moran, have set free my slave, Fellie, and I hereby make and acknowledge the emancipation paper for his complete freedom.
James Moran
Claudine came back in. "Dick an* Barney ain't gwine bother us. Dick's pleasurin' his woman, an' Ah take care o' Barney. They both sleep like angels." # "Did you look in pn Wolf?"
"Yes'm. He a mighty tired man. Bottle on de flo* by his baid:"
"Fine." Dulcie blew out the lamp. "I have to get some money out of Daddy's safe and put his seal on these papers.. Is Fellie ready?"
"He be hidin' in de stables, time we gets out dere."
Fellie and his family were waiting. With a sinking heart Dulcie realized there were others: Emma and Phyllis, both dangerously pregnant, Myrtle, who oversaw the spinning house, and the handsome Gullah field hand named Darcy. "You people are supposed to be in your cabinsl" she hissed.
"Miss Dulcie, dey wants to go 'long," said Fellie.
"The carriage will never hold twelve people!"
"Darcy done figger out 'bout hitchin' up de wagon, Miss Dulcie. We ain't got so fa' to go. Jes' to de piney woods, den we runs."
For a moment Dulcie's courage faltered. Then, thinking quickly, she said, "All right. We'll have to wrap the harness so it won't jingle."
"Me 'n' Darcy fix it a'ready," said Fellie proudly. "We lay quilts all oveh de bottom o' de wagon to keep it quiet, too."
"Darcy, open both doors as silently as you can. Everybody get in the wagon and lie down till I tell you it's safe. Darcy, you shut the doors behind us and catch up as quick as you can."
"Miss Dulcie, you ain't nevah gwine wid us!" said Fellie unbelievingly as she climbed up on the wagon seat
"Don't worry about it now, Fellie. Get in."
"Den you jes' git us off de plantation an' come on back. It ain't safe fo' you. Ah doan wants you gittin' hurt!"
"Nobody's goin' to get hurt," Dulcie declared. She flapped the reins, and one of the horses whinnied, scaring everybody. She kept the wagon moving slowly on the grass at the edge of the long crepe myrtle lane.
Chapter Four
When they reached the River Road, Dulcie whipped the horses to a fast trot. She wouldn't be safe until she passed Saunders', Acton's, and Whitaker's plantations.
Claudine sat beside her. "Where you takin* us. Miss Dulcie? "
"To Savannah. We should be able to get there and back
before there's an uproar at home. I took enough money for ship passage for everybody to Philadelphia. They'll be free once they get beyond North Carolina."
Claudine asked in alarm, "You ain't sendin' me off. Miss Dulcie?"
"Why, Claudine?" Dulcie teased. "Don't you want to be free?"
"No, tna'am! Anythin' Ah doan wan' is bein' turned loose! An' somethin' else Ah doan wan' is lookin' Mastah Jem in his face when we gits back. He gwine take a piss-ellum club to both us."
Dulcie shivered. "Ugh, Claudine, don't say things like that! If I'd look back and see Daddy, or Wolf, I know I'd just swoon!"
As it grew pale daylight, Dulcie and Claudine knew the plantation bell would be sounding at Mossrose. Soon it would be alive with activity. Since Dulcie seldom rose early, no one was likely to notice she was missing. But Fellie and nine others would be gone.
Dulcie told the blacks to sit up in the wagon and not to act scared in case they met anybody. Unless they were asked direct questions, they were not to say a word.
Their first threat to safety was a lone man on horseback. Patteroller! cried her anxious mind. // it is, and he finds out I've got a wagonload of runaway slaves . . . "Sing!" she told them. In her clear, sweet voice she began, "Nelly Bly! Nelly Bly! Bring the broom along."
The harmonious blending of the rich voices made a lovely sound on the misty morning air. "Keep them singin', Claudine," she commanded as the approaching rider reined up. He removed his shabby hat and swept a low bow. Dulcie flicked the horses again. The man remained at the side of the road, irresolute.
When Nelly Bly's several verses had been exhausted, Darcy began, "Oh, brothers, you oughta been dere. Yes, my Lawd" and on through other songs comforting and familiar to them from the prayerhouse.
To ease her tension Dulcie said, "Fellie, you and Ester have to pick yourselves a last name. When you're free, you can't be just Fellie."
"I's gwine be Fellie Jordan, 'cause we cross ovah Jordan to make free."
'That sounds fine, Fellie." And Daddy says they are
animals who don't think or feel! "What name will you choose, Darcy?"
"Ah doan know no names, Miss Dulcie. What gwine be mah name?"
"Well, let's think. What do you especially like, Darcy?"
"Cain' say Ah knows. Miss. Ah likes de animals. 'Possums make good eatin', an' dey's nice li'l critters."
"Foxes are pretty smart. How about Darcy Fox?"
Darcy beamed. "Yas'm, Ah likes dat. Ah gwine have me dat name."
"Miss Dulcie, me 'n' Ester thanks you fo' takin' us'uns to S'vannah," Fellie said. "We'n have a mighty po' time figgerin' it out fo' ouahseffs. Ah's worrit 'bout you gettin' back safe. What Mastah Jem gwine do?"
Dulcie gave him a smile. In spite of his pain and soreness from unhealed cuts, he h
ad not once asked for comfort or any sort of ease for himself. "You quit worryin' over me, Fellie, I always get out of my scrapes, don't I? Besides I'll have Claudine with me. Daddy'll be pretty mad, but he'll get over it. He always has."
"Dis de wust thing you evah done, Miss Dulcie."
Dulcie said nothing. She wouldn't speak against her father. Her criticism was patent in her presence here. And thinking of him now only made her nervous and timid at the time she needed to be most bold.
They came to the familiar wide sandy streets of Savannah lined with China trees and suddenly thoughts of Jem vanished as the going became harder. Deep sand in the centers of the streets sucked at the wagon wheels and the horses' hooves and slowed them down.
Anxious, Dulcie urged the horses past Factor's Walk and down the steep, curving roadway toward the pier. She could see the islands in the river, the steamships and sailing ships that lay at anchor. Two steamships were anchored close to one another. The first, Mirabelle, was grim and rusty, her crew lackadaisically coiling ropes or lounging at the rail staring at Dulcie. "The other one looks neater, don't you think, Claudine?"
Dulcie saw a two-hundred-twenty-five-foot sidewheel paddler moving gently at anchor. Two well-polished black stacks stretched skyward. On the wheel housing, in red and gold, was written Ullah. Her upper decks were crisply clean, the gingerbread trim gleaming with fresh white paint.
Dulcie knew little of ships, but she recognized industry and smartness. Several sailors were on their knees holystoning the deck; another polished the brass rail that stood waist-high. Their spirits were good. She could hear them joking with one another. The Ullah looked a likely prospect, if only they'd take Negroes onboard. "Darcy, yell at those sailors and tell them I want to see their captain."
Darcy walked near the ship. "Suh! Please, suh!"
Fellie sat in the wagon, staring at the ship. His face quivered. "Miss Dukie, please. Ah cain't get on dat boat."
"Of course you can, Fellie! There's no reason to be scared. It will only be a short trip, and then you'll be free."
"Yas'm, but Ah cain't go lessen Ah fin's mah boys."
Dulcie stared at him. "What? Fellie! You've come all this way, risked everybody's life—and you won't go North?"
"Ah doan mean Ah ain't gwine Nawth. Ah do dat, yas'm. But fust Ah got to fotch back Jothan an' Ruel."
