Ben, sitting at the table, rose when he saw the situation. “What do you need?” he asked.
“Shelter for the night. Jesse will do something else tomorrow.”
Rebecca, huge with child, stood with the three little girls, in their nightgowns, clustered around her skirts. They’d never seen a black man before, and Rebecca would convince all but six-year-old Jane that this was a dream. Jane could be trusted not to speak of it.
Ben took Josiah up the ladder to the loft where the children slept, while Rebecca and I distracted the little girls with finger play. He returned alone and sat down again at the table in silence.
“I’ll be leaving, then. Jesse will do something tomorrow,” I assured him. Ben wasn’t opposed to the work we did, but he was clearly worried about his family.
I thanked them for helping. Rebecca nodded as I tied my scarf tighter around my face and stepped back out into the snow. I trudged the half mile home, watching the shadows, trembling with cold and fear, my former troubles lost in new turmoil. This was life and death.
Chapter 9
1855
Morning dawned in a storm, blown in overnight. Heavy snow before daylight.
“This storm will likely keep the slave catchers inside. Virginia boys aren’t used to this kind of weather,” Jesse announced at breakfast. “But I’ve gotta move Josiah on. He’s not safe with the Hartleys nosing around.”
Nervous and distraught for more reasons than Jesse knew, I agreed. I plunged into work to keep my mind off my fears. “What are we going to do, Jesse?”
“I’ll wait until dark and move him then.”
I knew better than to ask where or how. I was confident Jesse knew this business, but my fear for Josiah grew out of all reason. Out in hostile territory in the worst month of winter, his chances of reaching Canada safely were slim. Exposure to the elements alone could doom him, to say nothing of being hounded by slave catchers. “It’s a bad time to travel,” I ventured.
“Yes and no,” Jesse replied. ”At least the enemy will think so. I hope they’ll think I’ll wait for the weather to break, so they’ll let up while it’s bad and keep an eye on me as soon as it warms up.”
Someone was stomping snow off their boots on the back porch. Who could be out there so early? Jesse rose and opened the door to Ben’s six-year-old, Jane.
“Aunt Ann,” the child said. “Papa sent me to get you. It’s Mama’s time.”
Taking the child on his knee, Jesse talked to her at the breakfast table while I scurried to pack a little bag of medicines and put on my boots and coat. We stepped out into a world of blowing snow, barely able to make out the path. We walked slowly, bent against the wind.
“Aunt Ann?”
“Yes, dear.”
“Who was that black man you brought to our house last night?” She spoke close to my ear so I could hear her above the wind.
“His name is Josiah. He’s running away from slavery.”
“Why did you bring him to us?”
“Because some bad men wanted to take him back. Uncle Jesse is hiding him from them.” I held her arm as we made our way through the deep snow.
“Oh. Is he going to stay with us for a long time?”
“No. Uncle Jesse will take him away soon.”
“Papa put him in the trunk.”
“The trunk?”
“Yes. Mama’s trunk. He took her things out of it and hid them under my bed. Then he put the black man in the trunk.”
My heart ached to picture Josiah cramped inside a trunk. Still, I was glad to be going to him. Rebecca needed me, that was certain, but I would feel better being under the same roof as Josiah.
“Will those bad men come back to get him?” the child asked, fear in her voice.
“We hope not, but we’ll be careful if they do. No matter what, you mustn’t say anything about the black man to anyone.”
“I know. Papa told me.”
We were near Ben’s house now; it was barely visible through the falling snow. I heard a horse whinny. Out on the road, I could barely discern three figures on horseback riding slowly toward Redfield Farm. Oh, Jesse. Be careful.
I looked at Jane, my finger to my lips. We stood immobile in the blowing snow as the men passed within thirty yards of us. Silently we moved on.
At Ben’s house I found Rebecca curled up on her side in the bed in a corner of the main room. Ben and the other two little girls were seated at the table. I took off my wraps and warmed my hands at the fire before going to Rebecca. She was resting now, between contractions. To my somewhat unpracticed eye, this looked like a routine birth, but I hoped for someone who knew more than I to confirm that.
“I’ll take the girls over to Rebecca’s mother’s and bring back her sister, Hannah. She’s a good midwife. Between the two of you, she’ll be in good hands,” Ben explained.
I nodded. “The girls can stay with Grandma Finley until it’s over. I’ll keep things in order here until Hannah arrives.”
“I’ve got some bricks heating for our feet. I’ll go hitch up the team if you’ll get the girls dressed.” Ben was on his way out the door.
All three children were soon bundled up, waiting for their father. I wrapped the hot bricks in feed sacks and handed them to Ben when he returned.
They were barely gone when Rebecca was seized with another contraction. I held her hand and wiped her brow, spoke to her softly, and hoped that Hannah would get there in time. It could be a couple of hours before Ben returned. Travel, even in a sleigh, would be slow today. I prayed the baby would wait.
Once Rebecca’s pain subsided, I cleared away the breakfast dishes, washed them and straightened up the room, all the while thinking of Josiah on the floor above.
“Did Josiah get breakfast yet?” I asked.
“No, I don’t think so,” Rebecca replied.
I cut a slab of cornbread and poured molasses on it. Gathering my skirts, I climbed the ladder to the loft. Everything looked normal. The trunk was pushed against the end wall, the children’s beds unmade. I moved quickly to the trunk and spoke.
“Josiah. It’s Ann. I brought you some breakfast.”
Slowly the trunk lid lifted and Josiah stood up. Stiff from lying cramped all night, he stretched his aching muscles.
“How it look out there?”
“Snowing hard.”
“Anybody about?”
“No.” I couldn’t bring myself to tell him there was. “Jesse says the weather will likely keep them in today.”
“How Rebecca?”
“Her pains are still pretty far apart. Ben went for the midwife.”
Josiah ate the corn bread slowly. His eyes sought mine, and he touched my hand. Meeting his touch, I raised my eyes to his and yielded to his kiss. Then, recovering myself, I rose to pull up the quilts on the little girls’ beds.
“You can probably stay out for a while. Rest on here if you like.” I indicated one of the beds. Afraid of arousing Rebecca’s suspicion, I descended the ladder after a last lingering look at Josiah.
Rebecca’s pains were closer together now, and I prayed fervently for Ben to hurry up and get back. There was a knock at the door. I hadn’t heard anyone ride up, but horses moved silently through deep snow. Moving aside the curtain, I saw three horses standing outside, and, heart in my throat, I opened the door.
“Mornin’ Ma’am,” the constable said with exaggerated courtesy.
“What do you want?” I replied curtly.
“Wanna have a look around. Been to your house already. Stopped your brother and checked his sleigh, too. That leaves this house,” he said, moving to enter.
I tried to block his way. “You can’t barge in here like this! That woman is having a baby!” I indicated Rebecca, pale and wan in the bed.
The three men jostled me aside and entered anyway. “Just wanna have a look, Ma’am.”
I stood by the open door, my eyes blazing. “The least you could do is close the door. Or didn’t your mothers teach you common
manners? Where are your friends, the Hartley boys? Couldn’t get them out of bed yet?”
Ignoring me, the three moved about the room, looking in cupboards and behind furniture. One got down on his hands and knees to look under the birthing bed.
I eyed them with contempt. “Things must be bad where you come from, that you’d stoop to this level just for money. How can you stand yourselves? Look at you! Harassing a woman giving birth! You are scum. You are lower than snake shit!”
The constable looked uncomfortable but moved toward the ladder, giving me cause to start in on him again.
“What are you going to tell your children when they ask what you did today? That you searched a child’s bedroom and terrorized a woman in pain so you could help a couple of thieves capture a man and return him to slavery? Is that what you’ll tell them?”
Ackroyd turned his back and climbed to the second rung. Rebecca screamed out in pain. “Oh, Ann! It’s coming! It’s coming!”
I rushed to her side, reaching for her hand. Rebecca writhed in pain, thrashing on the bed.
The two slave catchers backed toward the door. The constable peeked over the edge of the loft, and dropped down to the floor as I jumped up and grabbed the fire poker.
“Get out!” I screamed. “Get out before I bash your ignorant heads in!” I flew at the retreating men, brandishing the poker, leaving no doubt that I was good for my threat. The three pushed through the door and I slammed it behind them, shoving the wooden bar in place.
I leaned against the door, breathing heavily, the poker still in my hand. Then I crossed to the fireplace and shoved the end into the coals. If they came back, I’d be ready.
A quiet moan came from the bed, bringing me back to the task at hand.
“Rebecca? Are you all right?”
The reply was weak but triumphant. “Yes, I’m all right. We ran them out, didn’t we, Ann?”
I laughed with relief. “Well, you fooled me, too!”
I pulled a chair up to the bed and reached for her hand. “Oh, Becky. You’re a good person. Bless you.”
Rebecca smiled.
About a half-hour later Ben returned with Hannah, who relieved me of the midwifing duties. At about two o’clock in the afternoon, a lusty wail could be heard all the way to the trunk in the loft.
“Well, Ben, you’ve got your son,” I announced, taking the child carefully from Hannah. I wiped him with a soft cloth.
“And another one, to boot!” Hannah added as a second wail joined the chorus. “Twin boys!”
Ben moved to his wife’s side. “Thank you, Rebecca. Thank God for you.”
The work of bathing and dressing the babies fell to me, as Hannah ministered to her sister’s needs. In a short while all was quiet in the Ben Redfield house. The babies and their mother slept. Hannah gathered her things and looked at Ben.
“It’s stopped snowing. Think you can get me home before dark?”
“I can try. I’ll stop and tell Jesse to come over so you women aren’t alone in case our ‘friends’ come back.”
“I doubt they’ll be back today. But leave the girls with their grandmother for a few days. Rebecca needs some rest,” I directed.
With Ben and Hannah gone and Rebecca and the babies asleep, my attention returned to Josiah. He’d had nothing to eat since morning. It must have been almost as wild a day for him as it had been for me. I was sure he’d heard everything. I poured some soup in a bowl and climbed to the loft.
“Josiah,” I whispered softly. “Josiah.”
Again the trunk lid opened and he stood, but his cramped limbs would barely hold him. He sat on a bed, his hands shaking as I handed him the bowl. He took it, but set it down immediately. Taking me in his arms, he whispered, “Oh, Ann. Ann. You a marvel of a woman. How can I ever repay you? You saved my life.”
I trembled in his arms. The fear that I stared down earlier did its work now. I collapsed against his chest, crying softly.
“Josiah, I love you.”
He held me, crooning in my ear. “You some woman, Ann Redfield. Some woman, indeed. How’m I gonna pay you back for all this?” A sharp rap at the door.
“That’ll be Jesse.” I climbed down the ladder and crossed to the door. I looked out to assure myself that it was, indeed, Jesse before I slid back the wooden bar.
“Had a busy day, Ann?” he greeted me.
“Somewhat,” I replied.
Jesse stopped by the cradle in which two tiny heads reposed. He smiled and moved away so as not to disturb them and their sleeping mother. He sat down on a bench and pulled me down beside him, talking in subdued tones.
“I have a plan for Josiah, but I need your help.”
I nodded.
“I’ll use Ben’s sleigh when he gets back. You and I will pose as husband and wife. I’m taking you to your dying mother’s bedside in Johnstown.”
“Johnstown! Jesse, that’s a long way.”
“It’s the nearest safe drop off. We’ll hide Josiah in back and cover him with feed sacks and the buffalo robe. Having you along will reduce suspicion about traveling at night.”
“All right. I’ll go home and get us some food. You stay with Rebecca. I think she’ll sleep. Josiah’s upstairs.” I pulled on my boots and tied my bonnet as I spoke.
Jesse opened the door. “We’ll come by for you as soon after dark as it’s safe.”
I stepped out and followed the path through the deep snow, lost in thought about Josiah, the slave catchers, and our despicable neighbors. Amos and Nathaniel were in the kitchen when I arrived.
“Twins, is it?” Amos asked, his face crinkling into a rare smile.
“Twin boys, Papa. Both perfect. Jesse wants me to go with him to take Josiah to Johnstown.”
“When?”
“Tonight.”
Amos nodded. There was no safety around here anymore.
I put supper on the table, and we ate in silence, waiting for Jesse, who arrived around seven. I joined him in the sleigh with a sidelong glance at the pile in back.
“He’s all right,” Jesse assured me as we moved out into the night. The snow had stopped around three, and others had made tracks ahead of us, so the going was smooth enough. We talked little as we rode, mostly about family. When Betsy was coming home. What Ben and Rebecca would name the babies. How proud Amos was of twin grandsons.
The trip was long and cold. As the sleigh runners cut quietly through the snow-covered world, my thoughts were with the man in back. He must be terrified after two close calls. I was. I spoke when Jesse spoke to me, but my mind was on Josiah.
We arrived at a farmhouse near Geistown, east of Johnstown around midnight. Jesse jumped down and climbed the stairs to the porch. He knocked at the door and waited. I could tell by his movements when the door opened, but no light appeared. Conductors had to be cautious in the middle of the night. Fugitives could be moved any time of year, but snow made tracking them easier, so they usually laid low when it snowed.
Jesse returned and removed the coverings without a word. Josiah appeared, wearing an old coat of Ben’s. He leaned over and touched my shoulder as he let himself down from the sleigh.
“Good bye, Miss Ann. Thank you,” he whispered.
“Good bye, Josiah.”
Jesse escorted him to the house. The door closed, and Jesse returned to the sleigh. He turned the horses around and headed home. That was that.
Chapter 10
1855 – Early Spring
I knew I was pregnant by the middle of March. I knew it before that—by mid-February—but tried not to believe it. Two months of daily bouts of nausea were evidence enough, if I needed more. I can’t describe how I felt when I knew. A sickening fear—isolation, resignation—closed in on me. So alone. I looked desperately for someone to turn to. Someone to help. But there was no one, so I determined to keep my secret as long as I could and carried on as though nothing were amiss.
I took to walking alone along the roads or in the woods, with no particular destinati
on, as though there were some answer out there, if only I could find it. One afternoon, I found myself in the creek bottom near the Hartley place. I didn’t want to pass too close, but once I realized where I was, it was too late. Pru had spied me.
“Ann Redfield! What makes you come calling?” she hailed from the broken-down porch. It was almost as though she welcomed a visit.
“Afternoon, Pru. Just passing through. How’ve you been?” I tried to sound pleasant.
“Fair to middlin’. You still got that nigger hidin’ out up at your house?”
“Whatever can you be talking about?” I tried to say it lightly, but Pru was having none of it.
“You know right well what I’m talkin’ about. I saw his black face lookin’ out at me one day in Jan’ry. Don’t think I didn’t!”
“Is that why your brothers came to our house looking for a runaway? Honestly, Pru, you’re mistaken.”
She spit on the porch. “Mistook, hell. I know a nigger when I see one. You Redfields better watch out. Folks got their eye on you.”
I moved past the house, fighting the urge to run. “I’m on my way to Alum Bank to pick up the mail. Want me to bring yours?” I asked, knowing full well that the Hartleys never got mail—and couldn’t read it if they did.
“No need. But you might bring me a pound of sugar and some tea while yer about.” She preened in the doorway, feigning gentility.
I felt hateful toward her. Her and her whole low-class, ignorant, evil family. A child eyed me from behind her ragged skirt. More of the same, I thought. I hastened on down the path, careful not to step in anything.
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