A Desperate Road to Freedom Read online

  I wonder if Thomas would’ve left if he had known we’d be moving on from Toronto? Mama worries that he won’t be able to find us, but Reverend Brown said as long as we keep in touch with him, he’ll let Thomas know where we are when he gets back.

  And he will get back.

  He will.

  We made a fire and had soup tonight. The cook at the tavern was more friendly than the owner, and he gave Mama a good bone with lots of meat left on it, and a loaf of bread. The bread was hard as a rock, but tasted fine when I dunked it in the soup to soften it up. My stomach is a lot happier now. I felt so good that before I started to write in this journal, I dug down into my pack and got out my school work. I’ve been reading it over and remembering what Miss Clarke told me.

  Something real strange happened. Noah came over and sat down beside me. I got all fussed and started to shove my stuff back in my pack, but he stopped me.

  “Can I read, too?” he asked.

  Could have knocked me over with a feather. Before I could answer he went on, saying that he hadn’t brought any workbooks with him and he’d be pleased if I’d let him look at mine. Said it all in such a nice, polite way that I couldn’t say no. So we sat there and went over lessons together.

  Who would have believed it?

  Sunday, July 12th, 1863

  There’s a little church here where we attended services this morning before setting out. We were all a little shy because there were only white folks there, but we figured they couldn’t throw us out of a church, so we just stood real quiet-like in the back by the door. At first nobody seemed to mind. The Reverend preached a powerful sermon all about hellfire. I didn’t understand most of it, but it sounded fine. Except I did see one man nodding off until his wife gave him a poke that woke him up with a jump. Then she saw us and she gave us a good glare. Guess she didn’t like coloured folk being there but, hey, we were awake.

  Sunny, hot and even more mosquitoes today. I itch all over. Scratched both legs raw.

  More farms around here. Farmer let us stay in his barn tonight. Very different from hiding in barns on the Underground Railroad, though. One thing, we’re staying at night and can sleep easy. Other thing, we can make a fire and use the pump in the stable yard for water. And I don’t have to hide that I’m writing in my journal. I read to Mama from it all the time now. She enjoys that and it helps her learn, too. She liked going to the Sabbath School in Toronto and I think she misses it.

  Monday, July 13th, 1863

  Safe or not, I couldn’t settle down last night. Kept waking up and hearing strange noises. It was so dark in that barn. Kept thinking I heard dogs. Then a dog did howl and I was so scared I almost screamed right out loud. Mama and Papa sat bolt upright when they heard it, then Joseph started in to crying. We all huddled together and couldn’t sleep the whole rest of the night.

  We knew we were safe. Knew it was just the farmer’s dog. But knowing that is one thing, and remembering the terrible time when we were running is another.

  The Longs didn’t even wake up. They may be coloured like us, but they’ve never been slaves, and they never had to run like we did.

  The road we’re on is called the Toronto-Sydenham Road. Missus Long was telling Noah and me. We’re going up it till we get to the Durham Road, then turn off on it. Her sister’s farm is about half a day’s travel from there. Be about another week from here, she reckons. We got through the swamp all right and the road is a lot better. Even got gravel on it. Joseph says Luck is much happier. I’ll take his word for it as I don’t seem to have his talent for talking to horses.

  Tuesday, July 14th, 1863

  Passed through a village called Mono Mills. They let us stay in the stables of a hotel there. Joseph is brushing Luck. I swear, he’s going to brush that horse bald.

  Noah got a heel of bread and some cheese from a girl in the kitchen and brought it out to me. We sat and went through our lessons as usual. I kind of like that now, and look forward to it.

  Can I possibly be beginning to like Noah?????

  Thursday, July 16th, 1863

  Hot today. Almost as hot as summer back in Virginia. We’re in a place they call Jelly’s Corners today. It’s not really a village. Just a few cabins and a tavern owned by Mister Jelly. We didn’t even bother asking if we could stay there. Besides, it was pretty small and rough looking. We’re staying in a farmer’s field near a little creek. That cool water did taste good when we finally got here.

  Friday, July 17th, 1863

  Heard wolves howling last night, and this morning when I went out to relieve myself in the bushes I saw wolf tracks in the mud around the stream where we fetched our water. I got myself back to our camp real fast, I can tell you. Gives me a real spooked feeling to think wolves are prowling around so near to us while we sleep. I kept imagining I saw a wolf behind every tree all the rest of the day.

  Saturday, July 18th, 1863

  Flesher’s Corners today. A real village with a post office called the Artemesia Post Office, because we’re in the Township of Artemesia. Mister Long told me that. Best of all, it’s at the corner of the Toronto-Sydenham Road and the Durham Road. Tomorrow we’ll be at Missus Long’s sister’s farm! Missus Long is so excited, she can’t stop talking. She’s been telling Mama over and over all about her sister, and her sister’s husband, and all her sister’s children. She’s got about six. The more she talked, the quieter Mama got. I knew Mama was thinking about Sarah and Daniel and Caleb. And Thomas, of course. And probably about her lost sisters, too. Being Mama, she just nodded, polite as could be, and didn’t let on that anything was wrong, but I could tell she was hurting. I slipped over beside her and took her hand. She gave mine a good squeeze and I know it comforted her a little bit.

  Monday, July 20th, 1863

  Couldn’t write yesterday, too much confusion. We passed through three little villages on the Durham Road — one of them called Virginia, imagine that! — and got to Missus Long’s sister’s farm late in the afternoon. Missus Thornton, her name is. When we drove up, it seemed like the cabin just exploded, with children all running out to greet us. Missus Thornton stood behind them in the doorway, holding her hands so tight together it seemed like she was afraid they would fly away. Missus Long ran to meet her. Missus Thornton let loose her hands and ran to meet Missus Long with her arms outstretched wide and they met halfway. They just stood there hugging, and paying no mind at all to the commotion going on around them. Don’t think they even noticed it.

  The children — there seemed to be at least twenty of them — circled the wagon and clamoured at us. One who looked to be about Joseph’s age climbed up the wheel and grabbed the reins from Joseph before anyone could stop him. Of course Joseph wasn’t having one bit of that, so he hit the boy and the boy hit back, and next we knew they had fallen off the wagon and were fighting in the dirt.

  What an arrival that was!

  Tuesday, July 21st, 1863

  I’ve got the family sorted out now. There are only six children after all, although the smaller ones are so wild it just seems like more. The youngest is the boy, Nat, who fought with Joseph yesterday. They’re still fighting. Then there are three girls, the oldest just about my age, and two older brothers about the same age as Elisha and Jonah. The girl my age’s name is Adaline. She seems friendly, but she’s very quiet. Not surprising. Everyone else in the family makes so much noise. Missus Thornton is just as nice as Missus Long. She’s a bit older, I think. Mister Thornton is as quiet as Adaline. I think he lets his wife and his children do all the talking, and they certainly do a good job of it. There’s no boy Noah’s age so I think he’s feeling a bit left out.

  The Longs are staying in their tents and we’re in the barn with Luck and an ox and a cow. Very warm and friendly in here. I’m a bit shy about writing in front of all the others, so I’m doing it here, out of sight.

  Oh, drat. Here come Joseph and Nat. The two of them are actually walking together, but pummelling each other as they go along. I’ll put thi
s away for now.

  I’m wondering what we are going to do. The grown-ups stayed up late last night, talking serious. They’re not looking too happy today.

  Wednesday, July 22nd, 1863

  Well, now I know. We’re not staying and neither are the Longs. There’s no land to be had anymore. When the Thorntons came there was lots of land available, and coloured people were welcome to settle on it. So many more white people are moving up here now, though, that they’re taking the land back. The Thorntons had cleared a few acres just behind their farm, and that’s what they were going to give to Mister and Missus Long, but they lost them to a white family just two weeks ago. There was nothing they could do about it, and there wasn’t time to tell Mister and Missus Long before they set out from Toronto. Missus Long is looking pretty sad. I guess she was really looking forward to living near her family.

  Seems there is land just a bit farther north though, around a place called Owen Sound, and that’s where we’re going. The Longs will be able to farm, and Mister Thornton says the town of Owen Sound is big enough that we’ll be able to live there and maybe Mama and Papa will be able to find work. I hope so. I can’t bear how worried they both look.

  I’m sorry for Mister and Missus Long, but I’m glad that we’re not staying here. I liked living in Toronto and I’d much rather live in a town than on a farm and I’m sure Mama and Papa feel the same way. I’m sorry to leave Adaline, though. She might have been a friend.

  Mister Long and Elisha and Jonah have the wagon all ready. We’re off! I think the Longs would have liked to stay and visit more, but I can tell they’re worried now and want to get somewhere where they can settle down as soon as they can. They don’t want to take a chance that the land in Owen Sound will be all gone before they get there, too.

  Thursday, July 23rd, 1863

  We passed through the village of Durham today. Now we’re on the Garafraxa Road to Owen Sound. I really really like that name — Garafraxa. Rough road, though, in spite of its pretty name. I was getting jounced around so much in the wagon that I got off and walked. I’m much stronger now.

  Saturday, July 25th, 1863

  Through Chatsworth today. The Garafraxa Road meets up here with the road we were on before, the Toronto-Sydenham Road, and we’re following that to Owen Sound.

  Sunday, July 26th, 1863

  We’re here! Late this afternoon we came to the top of a hill and below us we saw the town all spread out around a harbour full of steamers and sailing vessels, with a river running down to it through the town.

  Missus Long’s sister gave us directions to a house in Owen Sound called Sheldon Place, so that’s where we headed. It’s on another hill on the other side of town from where we came in. Owen Sound just hunkers down in between those two hills at the mouth of that river that flows out to Georgian Bay and Lake Huron.

  Sheldon Place is owned by a white man, Mister Frost, and Missus Long said she’d heard tell that he’s built cabins on his property for escaped slaves just like us. We asked directions from a coloured man on the main street, but when we found it, we could hardly believe it. Sheldon Place is almost as big as the Big House at our old plantation. Mister Long turned the wagon in through the gate, but we didn’t dare pull up to the front door. While we sat there in the wagon, just sort of staring at the house, the door opened and a girl came out. I thought she’d scold us for being so uppity, she being white, but she just greeted us as nicely as you could want and said she’d go fetch Mister Frost. A tall white man came out. He looked kind of stern, but he was followed by a lovely white lady with silver hair and the sweetest smile on her face. He walked over to us and shook Mister Long’s hand, and then held out his hand to Papa. “I’m John Frost,” he said, “and this is Missus Frost. You’re welcome here.”

  Just like that! The girl showed us to a cabin and told us it was ours for as long as we needed it. Mister Frost is going to help the Longs find a piece of land to farm somewhere around here, too. In the meantime, they’re staying in a cabin right next to us. We have our whole cabin to ourselves! It’s got a kitchen with a wood stove and a table with benches on either side of it. Even got a sideboard to put dishes on, not that we have any dishes, but I reckon we’ll get some. Then there’s another room for Mama and Papa, with a bed with a feather tick on it, and another little room where Joseph and I will sleep. Two little cots in there for us, with quilts on them. The Longs’ cabin is just about the same, but they don’t plan on staying there for long.

  Hmm. Think I just made a joke there and I didn’t even mean to.

  We weren’t hardly settled in when two men came over to help Mister Long unload the wagon, and two ladies took Mama and Missus Long in hand. A passel of children came running to check us out and Joseph found a kindred spirit right away — Mama’s going to have trouble there — but I didn’t see any other girls my age.

  It’s like a whole little community — all the people are slaves who escaped and made their way up here, just like we did. Feels so comfortable and safe. I don’t think I feel so bad about leaving Toronto now.

  We didn’t get to church today, but it’s the Sabbath, and Mama wanted to make our own little service right here. We had supper with the Longs, then we came back and gathered together in the kitchen. Mama told us to hold hands, so we made a circle, Mama, Papa, Joseph and me, and Papa prayed. First of all he gave thanks that we’ve found such a secure haven after all our journeys, then he prayed for Thomas’s safety. Then he prayed for Caleb and Daniel and Sarah, that they be under our dear Lord’s wing wherever they are. Happy though I am, I couldn’t help crying a bit. Mama was crying too, though, and I even saw Papa swipe at his eyes when he didn’t think anyone was looking.

  Monday, July 27th, 1863

  It’s very late, but I want to write this down. An old man came by this evening and sat for a while in front of one of the cabins. The people here all seem to know him. Old Man Henson, they call him. Noah ran to get me because he said the old man was telling stories about his life and it was real interesting. When I followed Noah over to where he was, most all of the people in the community had gathered round to listen to him.

  He said his mother’s mother was the daughter of an African chief before she was stolen away and sold into slavery in America. He grew up on a plantation in Maryland and married another slave named Emily. Even though he’s old, his voice got all soft when he talked about her. Somebody asked him where she was but then he got mournful. When he ran away she wouldn’t go with him. Maybe she was too afraid. He’s never seen her since. I think that’s the saddest thing. Then he started to sing and some of the others joined in. I couldn’t help humming along a bit, quiet-like. I love singing so much. A lady near me said, “Sing up, girl. You’ve got a right pretty voice!” But it made me so shy I just snuck away back here. I can hear them singing still, their voices coming tranquil through the dark. I’m sitting outside on the stoop of the cabin all by myself. Mama and Papa have gone to listen to the old man, and Joseph is asleep.

  Not quite all by myself. A mangy old dog has just come and settled down beside me.

  Tuesday, July 28th, 1863

  There’s going to be a picnic just for us coloured folk on Saturday to celebrate Emancipation Day. That’s the day slavery ended here in Canada, thirty years ago. Coloured folk have been free here for thirty years! The picnic’s going to be at a place called Presque Isle up the shore a ways from here. That’s French for “almost an island.” One of our neighbours told me that when I asked. Told me how to spell it, too. Reason it’s called that is because it’s a piece of land that sticks out into the Bay and it’s almost cut off into an island. Imagine — I know words in French!

  Folks are going on a steamer. There’ll be speeches and games and all sorts of fun. The Longs are going and Noah can’t stop talking about it.

  Wish I could go, too, but it costs money.

  Wednesday, July 29th, 1863

  I’m going! Missus Long invited me. At first Mama got all stiff because she
didn’t want the Longs to pay for me, but Missus Long said that with nothing but useless boys around her, she needed someone to help her fix their picnic hamper, and help her at the picnic, and if I did that, I would earn my way. She said she missed having a girl around and she’d take it kindly if Mama would lend me to her. It took a lot of persuading, but Mama and Missus Long are such good friends, Mama finally gave in.

  I will be the best helper Missus Long ever had. I can’t wait!

  That dog’s still following me around. He’s not mangy and he’s not that old.

  Thursday, July 30th, 1863

  Gave the dog a bath. He’s really not a bad-looking dog. Sort of brown and scruffy. Calling him Boze. Don’t know where I got that name from, but it suits him.

  Friday, July 31st, 1863

  The picnic’s tomorrow! I’ve been helping Missus Long get food ready every minute of my spare time. We are going to eat well. Fried chicken, ham salad, greens and berry pie for dessert. Mama made some of her good Virginia cornbread for us to take, too.

  August 1863

  Saturday, August 1st, 1863

  I think I had more plain and simple fun today than I’ve ever had in my life. We were afraid it was going to rain, but the sun came out just as I was leaving to go over to the Longs’ cabin. Noah and his brothers toted the hamper and we all made our way down to where the steamer was waiting in the harbour. The Alderson, it was called. There was a big crowd all around, waiting to get on it, and everybody was as excited as I was. Finally, the steamer gave a big blast with its whistle, and a gangplank was lowered to the shore for us to get on. We were almost the first people on! We went up to the top deck and found a spot for ourselves right at the front. (The “bow” it’s called on a boat — Noah told me that.) We wanted to be able to see everything. The sun was full out by then and it was a fine day.