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 Addressing The Maroons Community Attempting To Justify Why He Should Be Allowed To Stay
“We don’t need the help of this man,” Scipio called. “Mister Nathanial admits he lived with people who punished slaves. Maybe he’s a spy sent to find us so the law can come. Why take a chance?”
Without warning, Scipio reached up and grabbed a handful of Nathanial’s hair, forcing him down to his knees. “Look at his painted hair—just another thing he did to deceive. Mister Nathanial, look around and see how we have to live because of the way you grew up. And look at the marks many of us carry for the rest of our lives.”
Cesare and Zack turned, pulling their shirts down to display backs covered with scars from repeated whipping. Any healthy flesh had long disappeared.
Bile rose in Nathanial’s throat. Never before had he seen the product of a slave’s punishment up close. He twisted his head away to avoid vomiting.
“After whipping, their owners tied these men down so birds and ants got their share. They ever do that to people you went to church with, Mister Nathanial?” Scipio spat at Nat’s feet. “This privileged man should return to his world and get a taste of what they do to us. Maybe then he might do more than attend one abolitionist meeting.”
Lincoln rose, but before he could speak, Scipio moved to stand in front of the camp leader. “You put us in danger by bringing this man here, Linc. If he escapes and gets caught, slave hunters will know where to find us. I say we take no chances and save Mister Nathanial from the white law by feeding him to the swamp. That’s what a real leader would do to protect the camp.”
Not a sound escaped any camp members. Nathanial struggled with how to respond. Without warning, one side of the gathering parted. Miss Matilde labored into the circle, supported on each side by Phibe and Moses. With each tentative step, she moved closer to Scipio. At the center, she pushed away the arms supporting her.
In a powerful voice that belied her weakened state, “What fool talk you sprouting today, Scipio? We know you’re jealous of Linc and have designs to be leader. You need to stick to honoring our ancestors and casting your spells. That’s what a shaman is for. This camp would be in trouble if you were in charge.”
With every eye locked onto the frail woman, a few murmurs of agreement rose. Lincoln moved close to the matriarch, calling for a chair. “I don’t need no seat, Linc. I’m not dead yet. I’m here to say we give Mister Nathanial a chance. What harm can come? He’s confined to camp. We’ll learn over time what’s in his mind. He’s already helped my family. I know he’s looking to help others. My heart tells me the Lord sent us a good man.”
The old woman’s legs buckled. A chair appeared. She collapsed into it. Fighting for breath, Matilde lifted her head defiantly towards the muted Scipio.
Out of the gathering stepped a tall man wearing short britches held up by frayed suspenders. Standing erect, he called, “Our grannie makes sense. Give the new man a chance, but keep watch on him.”
Lincoln saw his opportunity. “Who agrees with Paris and Miss Matilde? She led us to this place. Thanks to her, we live in freedom.”
Buzzing agreement grew, along with individual calls of “Praise the Lord.”
Without waiting further, Lincoln proclaimed, “It’s decided. Mister Nathanial’s part of camp but confined. If anyone sees him leave, let Moses or me know. We’ll deal with that problem, and then maybe take Scipio up on his idea to feed the animals.”
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Thanks so much for hosting Mike Weedall today, with a tempting excerpt from his evocative new novel, Escape to the Maroons.
ReplyDeleteTake care,
Cathie xx
The Coffee Pot Book Club