In 1792, an escaped slave, raised and living as white, is discovered and forced to flee into the Great Dismal Swamp.
Barely escaping a bounty hunter, a Maroons community of fugitive slaves rescues him. Over time, Nathanial comes to accept his true identity while fighting to overcome the suspicions of his new community. Because of his pale skin, he becomes a conductor on the underground railroad, slipping runners onto ships going north. On one of his missions, fate intervenes and places Nathanial's community at risk.
This little-known chapter in American history tells how escaped enslaved people gave their all to live free while creating a community and economy in one of the world's most unforgiving environments.
Excerpt
Nathanial Attempting To Smuggle Fleeing Slaves Onto A Ship Sailing North
At last, the wagon pulled even to the three guards. One moved toward Roscoe, while the others moved to examine the goods and human cargo in the back.
The lead guard received the driver’s paperwork. “Roscoe, you back again? Which ship are you working with today?”
“Pegasus, Whit. How are you? I got some passengers heading to the Flying Cloud, and they’re late. I’m going to take them there first. Do you know where the Cloud’s tied up?”
“Straight ahead. I need the papers for your passengers.”
Nat smiled, slipping the glasses lower on his nose to take in the guard. “I have them right here, sir. Mister Nestor is correct. We’re late. I’d appreciate whatever you could do to expedite this process.”
The guard seized the documents after moving around the wagon to stand close to Nat. “I have a job to do, mister. Next time, get here earlier. Cummings, eh? Where are you headed, and why do you have these slaves with you?”
“Please let me explain.” Nat gingerly stepped down, trying to gauge where the ground was through the thick spectacles. His injured foot buckled. The guard grabbed Nat to keep him from falling, their faces inches apart. Nat pulled himself up and back. “Please excuse my clumsiness.” In a soft voice, “I’m selling the two children in Newport, but the parents don’t know. They’re my house slaves. I don’t want to get them upset. If you could say nothing to them, that would help me manage this delicate situation.”
The guard returned his gaze to the paperwork. “Funny you’re heading north to sell them. Newport isn’t the big slaving market it used to be. Why aren’t you using a market here?”
“That’s where the buyer wants to take possession before he returns south. He promised to pay an excellent price for the two. Since I have business up north, I didn’t ask questions.”
Whit looked up from the papers, eyes narrowing to study Nat. “Let me see your papers for passage.”
Dry-mouthed, Nat froze. Neither Paul nor Moses mentioned the need for additional documentation. The guard’s burning eyes seemed to scan every facet of Nat’s face. Pushing his glasses farther up his nose, “The captain has them. I’m supposed to meet him at the ship.”
Nat stepped to the side to move a little further from the guard. Again, his foot gave way. Grimacing, he grabbed at his ankle.
“Careful there, Mister Cummings,” the guard said. “You look like you’re seriously hurt. Let’s get you in the guardhouse to have a better look at that foot. Roscoe, pull ahead off to the side.”
Back leaning against the wagon, Nat smiled to hide his discomfort. “No, I’m fine. I don’t want to miss my ship. I’ll take care of my foot on board.”
Roscoe interrupted, “Whit, you got a real backup of wagons today. Mister Cummings is good people and needs help with his foot. If the captain doesn’t have the right papers, none of these people will be leaving. Let me get him over there. I’ll bring them back if there’s no passage booked.”
The guard lifted his head to take in the growing line of wagons and upset drivers. “Alright, but if Cummings doesn’t have passage, bring them back here.”
“Will do. Get back up here, Mister Cummings. We’ve got to get you to your boat.”
With the paperwork clutched in his perspiring hand, Nat crawled back up to his seat. The minute Nat settled, Roscoe snapped the reins. The wagon lurched forward. Away from the guards, he leaned towards Nat and said, “I think I know what you’re up to, Mister Cummings—if that’s your real name. You’re in a heap of trouble if that captain doesn’t take you on board.”
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Escape To The Maroons
Your book sounds like an emotional read. I have added it to my to-read list.
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