Beth had more questions. But Patrick said, “We shouldn’t be talking. Someone might hear us. And I have to take this bag to Mr. Lincoln.”
A loud whistle blew, and the train began to slow.
“Mr. Lincoln gives a short speech at almost every stop,” Sally said. “When the train stops, go out the side door to the back. Mr. Lincoln will be on the rear platform, greeting people.”
“Good,” Beth said. “I don’t want to pass Mr. Jones again.”
Sally put her hand on Beth’s arm. “Whatever you do,” she said, “don’t let that slave catcher see your necklace.”
Willie
The train stopped. Patrick looked out a small window. The sign above the depot said “Willoughby.” He picked up the black bag. Then he opened the side door.
Patrick and Beth hopped off the baggage car and onto the tracks. He heard the door slide shut behind them.
Crowds of people quickly gathered around the back of the train. They cheered for Mr. Lincoln. They were happy and loud. The men and boys wore suits. The women and girls wore dresses with petticoats. Everyone looked as neatly dressed as they would for church.
The cousins glanced at the smoking car that held the reporters.
Patrick felt as if someone was watching him. He looked at the train windows.
A man was staring straight at them. He had red hair and a bushy beard. His forehead was pressed against the glass. But then the man abruptly pulled a shade down.
“Hurry,” Beth said. “We might miss Mr. Lincoln.”
The people in the crowd yelled, “Speech! Speech!” Their voices rose above the band music coming from the depot.
Patrick turned sideways to squeeze through the crowd. He held the bag over his head to keep from bumping people.
As they reached the back of the train, the bag was yanked out of his hands. Patrick looked up at a tall man wearing a black stovepipe hat. The man stood on the platform at the rear of the last car. He had a familiar face: the dark hair; the deep-set eyes above a long, bony nose; the sad, thin smile.
“At last,” Abraham Lincoln said, “my bag is returned to me. One problem solved.” He handed the bag to a young boy in a black suit standing behind him. The boy dropped the bag on the platform.
Then Lincoln leaned over the platform’s iron railing and offered Patrick a hand. “Want to come aboard?” Lincoln asked.
Patrick grasped his hand. Mr. Lincoln lifted him to the edge of the platform. Patrick swung a leg over the railing.
I can’t believe I’m standing next to Abraham Lincoln, Patrick thought.
“Patrick!” Beth called. “What about me?” She reached up and grabbed two iron rails.
Patrick pulled on Lincoln’s sleeve. The tall man looked at Patrick. Patrick pointed to Beth and said, “She helped with the bag too.”
This time Lincoln leaned farther over the railing. With two hands, he held Beth around her ribcage and lifted her. Then he gently placed her on the platform.
“Thank you,” Beth said. She pushed back her cloak’s hood. Then she curtsied to Abraham Lincoln.
The crowd went wild with cheering. The people pressed even closer to the platform and raised their hands toward Lincoln.
The president-elect leaned over the railing again. He shook the hands of men, women, and children.
The other young boy on the platform stepped forward. He cupped his hands around his mouth. Then he shouted to Lincoln’s fans, “Want to meet Mrs. Lincoln?”
The crowd offered more cheers and whistles. The boy pushed Beth to the front of the platform railing.
“Boo!” someone from the crowd said. The cheers turned to jeers and laughter.
The boy laughed so hard he had to hold his stomach.
Beth’s cheeks flushed red. She backed away and hid behind a large American flag. It was hanging from a long wood pole. The flag looked odd to Patrick. It had fewer stars than the one at his school.
Lincoln turned to the boy. “Apologize and then go inside, Willie,” he said, “and visit Mrs. Lincoln and your younger brother.”
“Yes, sir,” Willie said. The boy lifted the flag and spoke to Beth. “I was wrong to embarrass you,” he said. “But it was a great joke!”
Beth mumbled something that sounded like “Okay.” Willie let go of the flag, and Beth was hidden again.
Willie paused before leaving the platform. He said to Patrick, “You look like a fun sort of fellow.” Then the boy pulled something out of his pocket. He opened his palm so Patrick could see. “Want to play with my tin soldiers?”
“Uh . . . sure,” Patrick said. “Later, though. You should obey Mr. Lincoln.”
Willie grinned and went inside.
The train whistle made two long toots. The train began to pull away from the depot. And the locomotive started to chug.
Lincoln said, “Goodbye, friends in Willoughby! I am honored by your loyalty.” He turned to Patrick. “Will you be traveling with us to Buffalo? Or are you staying in Willoughby?”
“My ticket was punched for Buffalo,” Patrick said.
Several young men raced after the train. They waved small American flags. One raised his arm and hurled something at the platform. Patrick heard a whistle and a loud ka-bang!
“A firecracker,” Beth said. “How patriotic!”
Patrick looked at Lincoln to share a smile.
But Lincoln had turned pale. “It’s time to move inside,” he told Patrick and Beth.
Mr. Lincoln picked up the bag and entered the train car.
Patrick was surprised. He looked at Beth. She raised an eyebrow as if to ask, “What’s going on?”
Patrick whispered to her, “Perhaps a missing bag wasn’t the only problem Mr. Lincoln has.”
The Lincoln Special
Beth and Patrick followed the future president inside the train car. This car wasn’t full. It had only a half-dozen men inside.
Beth was surprised to see how fancy it was. The decor could have been from an expensive hotel. The fabric on the walls was blue with white stars. The seat covers were made from red velvet.
The seats were not in rows. Instead they were arranged like a living room, facing each other.
Lincoln was so tall he had to hunch over inside the train. He ducked even lower whenever he passed under a light fixture.
“Welcome to the Lincoln Special,” Lincoln said. He held his hat in his hands. “Some supporters of mine from Buffalo have provided this train for us. Only my family and special friends are allowed in this car.”
Patrick leaned over to Beth. He whispered, “It’s like a rolling version of Air Force One, the president’s airplane in our time.”
Then Patrick asked Mr. Lincoln, “Where’s Willie?”
“Mrs. Lincoln has a private compartment in the front of this car,” Lincoln said. “My son William is probably there.”
Patrick offered his hand to Lincoln. “I’m Patrick,” he said. “And this is my cousin Beth. Thank you for letting us visit.”
Mr. Lincoln and Patrick shook hands. Then Lincoln bowed to Beth. She curtsied again.
“The thanks is mine,” Lincoln said. “My bag has important papers inside. I am grateful it has been found and returned.”
Mr. Lincoln motioned for Patrick and Beth to sit on a bench. Patrick took off his wool cloak and folded it. He draped it over the back of his seat.
Beth settled into the comfortable velvet cushion. She felt the warmth of a wood-burning stove in the center of the compartment. The heat fought off the winter chill. But she still pulled her cloak tightly around her.
Mr. Lincoln sat on a similar bench across from them. The black bag was on the floor near him. He put his tall hat on the seat next to him. He pulled a brown blanket across his shoulders.
Mr. Lincoln’s long legs stretched out and filled the space between the benches. He closed his eyes.
Beth pulled in her feet so Lincoln’s legs had enough room.
The man who sat directly behind the future president stood up.
He had silver hair. His navy-blue suit jacket was so long it almost reached his knees. The jacket had gold buttons down the front of it. The man reached for Lincoln’s black bag.
Without opening his eyes, Lincoln said, “Touch that bag, Mr. Wood, and I’ll personally put you off the train.”
“Just need to check it for security,” he said. “Someone left a package for you in Indianapolis. Rumor says it was a bomb.” Wood sat back down.
“A bomb!” Beth said. “Do the people in the South hate him so much?” Beth thought of Holman Jones and his goal to enslave Sally again. He probably didn’t like Lincoln much.
Wood turned in his seat so he could answer. He said, “You saw people from the North cheering. They love him! But in the South it’s a different story. Seven states have already banded together to leave the Union. They call themselves the Confederate States of America.”
“Are the Confederates afraid Mr. Lincoln will end slavery?” Patrick asked.
Wood raised a finger and gestured at Patrick. “Exactly, young man,” Wood said. “They will go to war rather than set their slaves free.”
Patrick asked, “You mean the Civil War?”
Mr. Lincoln opened his eyes and spoke: “I will do everything in my power to prevent a war between the states. My main goal in this struggle is to save the Union. And stand by my convictions.”
The men in the car made noises of approval.
Wood said, “Hear, hear. No one wants such a war.”
“And I don’t want to see Mr. Lincoln hurt!” Beth said. “He needs to lead the country so that people can be free.” Especially Sally, she thought.
Beth stood and stepped toward Lincoln. She took his hand. “It’s safe inside this train, isn’t it?” she asked. “Surely your friends will protect you.”
Mr. Lincoln smiled. “Thank you, Beth,” he said. “But I’m public property now. I belong to the people who elected me.” He squeezed her hand and let it go. “I fully intend to meet as many people as possible. Your compassion is needed more elsewhere.”
“Elsewhere?” Beth asked.
“With Mrs. Lincoln,” he said. “She isn’t feeling well. And the nursemaid who was supposed to care for my son Tad fell ill. She stayed in Illinois.”
“Isn’t Willie there?” Beth asked.
Mr. Lincoln nodded. “That brings something else to mind,” the future president said. “Patrick’s helpful nature is needed to distract Willie from troublemaking. Mr. Wood will escort you.”
Wood stood and stepped into the aisle. Beth and Patrick followed him toward the front of the car.
Wood opened a door.
Willie’s voice called out from inside, “I don’t want to take a nap!”
Mrs. Lincoln
Wood, Beth, and Patrick entered the family section of the train car. It was like a small sitting room. The windows were covered with velvet curtains. Two large wood trunks sat against one wall.
Mary Lincoln sat on a small couch. She smiled at the cousins.
“Thank goodness you’re here,” Mrs. Lincoln said. “I can’t do a thing with Willie.”
“I brought Willie a playmate,” Wood said. “And Mr. Lincoln has sent you a nursemaid for Tad. Goodbye, Mrs. Lincoln.” He bowed and quickly left.
Willie asked Patrick, “Want to play with my toy soldiers?”
The boys sat on the floor. Willie pulled a handful of Revolutionary War fighters out of his pocket.
Mrs. Lincoln looked at Beth. “Child, that green dress and cloak are fabulous!” Mrs. Lincoln said. “Are they French?”
Beth curtsied and smoothed her skirt. She said, “I don’t know.” She took off her cloak and placed it on a seat, then sat down.
The future First Lady was also wearing a lovely dress. It was deep red with a high collar and short sleeves. The skirt had even more petticoat fluff than Beth’s did.
Beth said, “I think your dress is beautiful too.”
“Thank you, dear,” Mrs. Lincoln said.
Beth caught movement out of the corner of her eye. A young boy was on a bed tucked just under the ceiling. He was peeking out from beneath a red-and-white-striped blanket.
Beth smiled at him and waved.
Mrs. Lincoln went on, “I wanted to go shopping for fashionable clothes last week. But Mr. Wood said I was needed here.”
“Don’t you want to be with Mr. Lincoln?” Beth asked.
Mrs. Lincoln put her hands up. “Not on this train,” she said. “The women in the North despise me. They think I’m a country girl because I was born and grew up in the South.”
“Then the people in the South must like you,” Beth said.
Mrs. Lincoln said, “Southerners despise me because I believe slavery is wrong. The Union is doomed!” The future First Lady lay on the couch. The conversation was over.
Beth saw an ABC picture book on top of a trunk. She lured Tad off the bunk with it. The young boy snuggled next to her on the seat. He was missing his front teeth. Beth guessed he was seven years old.
She read the book a few times in a soft voice.
The train slowed to a stop as the brakes squealed.
Thud!
That noise was followed by banging sounds coming from the train’s roof. Beth looked up at the ceiling. It was shaking. The crystal light fixtures were swinging. In an instant, the entire car began to rock.
Tad asked, “What’s that noise?”
Mrs. Lincoln stood and rushed to the window. “It’s a mob!” she cried. “They’ve surrounded the train!”
Willie shouted, “Finally, something fun!” He scooped up his soldiers. Then he shoved them into one of his pants pockets. He stood and rushed out the door.
“Come back!” Mrs. Lincoln called. But Willie didn’t obey. She turned to Patrick and said, “Young man, go find Willie.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Patrick said. He nodded to Beth and left the compartment.
Outside, excited voices began cheering for Mr. Lincoln. A band started to play. Several more thuds came from the ceiling.
Beth feared the roof would cave in. She gently hugged Tad to comfort him.
Tad pulled on the ribbon that was around her neck. The wood disk fell on the outside of Beth’s dress.
She let him go and said, “Sit under the upper bunk. You’ll be safer there.”
Tad quickly obeyed.
Beth turned around.
Mrs. Lincoln looked shocked. “Where did you get that necklace?” she asked. The future First Lady stood and came near Beth. The crowds and the noises on the roof seemed forgotten. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Tell you what?” Beth asked.
“That you’re part of the Underground Railroad,” Mrs. Lincoln whispered.
That’s what Sally said when she saw the necklace! Beth thought. “But I’m not a part of anything,” she said.
The woman smiled. Beth could tell Mrs. Lincoln didn’t believe her.
“You’re a bit young to be involved,” Mrs. Lincoln said. “But these are desperate times.” She reached for the wood disk. “May I hold it?”
Beth took the necklace off and handed it to Mrs. Lincoln.
“I haven’t seen one of these ribbons since I left Kentucky. That was more than twenty years ago,” the future First Lady said. “I gave it to Mammy Sally. She was a slave my father owned while I was growing up. I loved her.”
Beth’s heart leaped. The runaway slave’s name is Sally too, she thought.
“Mammy Sally gave food and clothing to runaway slaves,” Mrs. Lincoln said. “She was brave. I always wondered why she didn’t leave too.”
“What about the wood disk?” Beth asked. “What does it mean?”
“The goose is a symbol of freedom,” Mrs. Lincoln said. “It also means to keep going north toward Canada. Runaways follow geese flying north in the summer.”
Mrs. Lincoln slipped the necklace back over Beth’s head.
“The schedule for the Lincoln Special is in the newspapers,” Mrs. Lincoln said. “And many eye
s watch Mr. Lincoln’s every move. A slave on this train would need to be extra careful.”
The future First Lady paused. She put a hand on Beth’s forearm. “And be careful yourself,” she said. “Trust no one.”
Lunch
The train began to roll again.
“May I come out now?” Tad asked politely. The boy was still sitting on the narrow bed under the upper bunk. He was wrapped in his blanket.
Mrs. Lincoln moved to him and patted him on the head. She said, “Yes, dear. You were brave during all that racket. But the pounding has stopped now.”
Just then Conductor Nottingham came through the train car door. He held a large basket in his arms. The basket was full of apples and pears and loaves of bread.
He nodded at Mrs. Lincoln and said, “Good day.” Then he paused. “I see your trunks are still here. I’ll move them to the baggage car. I just have to deliver lunch first.”
“Very good,” Mrs. Lincoln said.
Baggage car? Beth thought. He might find Sally. I have to warn her.
Conductor Nottingham said to Mrs. Lincoln, “Would you like your lunch here or in the main section?”
“We will dine with Mr. Lincoln,” she said.
Nottingham hurried to Mr. Lincoln’s section of the car.
Mrs. Lincoln went to one of the wood trunks. She took out a hand mirror and looked at herself. She arranged her smooth brown hair and then put the mirror back.
The future First Lady took Tad by the hand. “Beth,” she said, “we will dine with Mr. Lincoln now.”
Patrick was seated near the stove with Willie. They were eating lunch. Patrick had a large, white, cloth napkin on his lap. The napkin had apple slices, cheese, and a chunk of bread on it. Patrick also had a glass of lemonade.
Patrick watched Beth come in with Mrs. Lincoln and Tad.
Wood and the other men in the car stood. Patrick guessed it was to honor the future First Lady. So he wrapped the food up in his napkin. He quickly slurped the lemonade and set the glass on the floor. Then he and Willie stood too.
Freedom at the Falls Page 2
