Kluger - Freedom Stone

Table of Contents

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Copyright 2011 by Jeffrey Kluger. All rights reserved. This book, or parts thereof,

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eISBN : 978-1-101-47537-9

Chapter 1

THERE WERE TWO kinds of slaves on the plantation Lillie and her family called home: those who could sleep on the night before the slave seller came and those who couldnt. Lillies little brother was too young to understand exactly what the job of the slave seller was, so this morning, just before sunrise on the day the terrible man was going to arrive, the boy lay deeply sleeping beside her in the narrow bed the two of them shared. Mama knew the slave seller well, having seen too many of his visits over the years and watched too many people she knew and even loved get sold off like prize heads of livestock. For much of the night, Mama had thus tossed and thrashed in her bed on the other side of the familys little cabin, giving in to sleep only in the last hour or so. Lillie had slept even less than Mama, drifting in and out of a fitful doze for much of the night and awakening fully a short time ago, just as the sky was beginning to show a faint shimmer of dawn outside her window.

As most of the slaves on the plantation knew, the slave seller was not actually a slave seller at all. What he wasor at least what the white family called himwas a slave appraiser, a man whose sole job was to visit plantations throughout the county, examine the slaves working there and report back to the auctioneers about which ones looked likely to bring the highest price. Slaves who were selected this way were usually gone within a month and almost never seen again. Rumors had been swirling for weeks that the appraiser would be making his rounds soon, and that was no surprise.

The last harvest had been a poor one at Greenfogwhich was what the plantation where Lillie lived was calledand the war between the North and South, now in its third year, was making money even harder to come by throughout Beaufort County and the rest of South Carolina too. Masters who could not raise enough cash selling their crops would often turn to selling some slaves. Yesterday, just after the quitting horn sounded, the overseer called the Greenfog slaves together in a field near the stables and announced that their Master had decided that some of them would have to go, and theyd all be priced for sale in the morning.

This, of course, was the worst news a group of slaves could hear, but the Master had tricks to try to make them forget thator at least to think about it less. Last night, as on all nights before the appraiser came, an extra ration of porkpink and fresh-killed, not salted and driedwas distributed to all the cabins. Fresh pork was said to brighten moods and soften skin, giving slaves the healthy, well-fed look the auctioneers liked to see. The pork had been deliciousit was always delicious before slave appraiser daysand Lillies little brother had stuffed himself with it. Despite her worries, Lillie could not resist it either. Mama would not eat a bite.

Even better than the ham the slaves ate was the rest theyd get. Today, the morning horn would sound a bit later than usual and there would be no fieldwork to do. Well-rested slaves were also thought to be more appealing to the appraiser. For Lillie, howeverand for all the other slaves who lay awake on the night before the slave seller cameextra time to sleep just meant extra time to brood, and as morning now broke, Lillie found herself staring ahead into the shadows of the cabin, her mind filled with thoughts of the sorrow that at least one family would feel before the sun went down on Greenfog again.

Lillie stole a glance at her sleeping brother, who was called Plato, and envied him the things he did not know. She was thirteen now, old enough to understand when trouble was coming. But she had been barely the boys agewhich was sixthe first time the appraiser called. Back then, if Mama and Papa told her not to worry about what was going on, she wouldnt worry. If they told her that none of them would ever be sold away or flogged, she believed that too. When a child was marked for sale and its mother dropped to her knees and wailed with a terrible, animal sound, Mama would pick Lillie up and carry her off and sing in her ear so close and strong that the sound of the weeping womans screams would seem to fall away.

But Lillie was too old to pick up now, too old to sing to and too old to believe good things were going to happen just because Mama said they were. All the other children whod lost a family member to the slave traders had had mamas who told them the same things, and that hadnt helped them a lick.

As Lillie lay in bed, lost in these dark thoughts, a terrible, choking feeling came over her, and her skin went prickly hot with fear. In time, the sun would be up and she would face the day as well as she couldwhich she reckoned would probably be good enough. But here in the still-dark cabin, the low ceiling and the deep silence and even the thin, scratchy blanket under which she lay seemed all at once as if they would suffocate her. She flung off the blanket, causing her brother to stir slightly, and drew three or four deep, trembly breaths. She needed to get up, she needed to be outside, at least until day broke and her mama awoke. And she needed to go see her friend Bett.

Ever since Lillie had been old enough to explore the plantation on her own, spending time with Bett had lifted her mood. Bett was an old slave who lived on a tiny patch of unfarmed land just beyond the tobacco field. She had spent nearly all her adult life working the ovens in the Masters kitchen, baking cakes and muffins and loaves of bread and all manner of sweets and treats. When Bett was too old for Big House work, the Master had allowed the other slaves to build her a cabin of her own where she could live out her remaining years. She would still be required to work, of course, but now it would be for the other slaves alone, baking their weekly portion of bread, which the mamas were usually too busy in the fields to make on their own.