The Underground Railroad (8 page)

I looked around the professor's office and noticed that something was missing. “Where's Mr. Adams? Don't we need him to run the Critter Cam?”

“Mr. Adams couldn't come tonight,” answered the professor as he stacked the papers on his desk. “But I think we can run the Critter Cam without him. Which of you two wants to operate the remote?”

I turned to Tamika. She shook her head no. “My brother has a monster truck at home,” I said. “I know how to work it.”

“Good,” said the professor, turning on his laptop. As the computer started up, the professor looked at Tamika and me as he spoke. “Before we visit Newport, Indiana, I want to tell you a few things about Levi Coffin and his wife.”

“Like what?” I asked.

“Well, Levi Coffin was a Quaker who was born in North Carolina, a slave state. His parents moved to a Quaker community in Indiana in 1825, and he followed them to the state a year later.”

“What's a Quaker?” Tamika asked.

The professor made a few keystrokes on his laptop as he talked. “A Quaker is a person who is a member of the Religious Society of Friends. It's a church that originated in England in the mid-1600s. Quakers have always been against war and slavery. Many of them helped runaways. In fact, there were several families in Newport that helped escaped slaves. Levi and his wife alone may have helped more than 2,000 people during their lifetimes.”

“Was he a farmer?” I asked.

“No,” the professor replied, “he was a very successful businessman. He owned a dry goods store, a linseed mill, and a pork business. He even hired and paid a fugitive slave named Robert Burrell to run his linseed mill. Levi was also a director of the Richmond branch of the state bank. His position with the bank gave him some power that few others in the Underground Railroad had. So it's safe to say that Levi Coffin was one busy man.”

Professor Tuesday turned back to his map. “Most runaway slaves were brought to the Coffin house from three places along the Ohio River: Jeffersonville and Madison, Indiana, and Cincinnati, Ohio.”

“Do you think the slaves that we saw leaving the barn in Madison were being taken to Mr. Coffin's house?” Tamika asked.

“I do,” said the professor. “Most stations along the Underground Railroad were no farther than 15 to 20 miles apart. So the trip from Madison to Newport, Indiana, would have taken about three days. If there was trouble along the line, it could have taken much longer.”

Professor Tuesday fiddled with his computer, then looked over at me. “I've set the Tuesday Teleporter for us to arrive on a Tuesday morning in 1845. You may have to act fast to keep the Critter Cam from getting shot.”

Now I was scared.

P
rofessor Tuesday pressed down on the ENTER key and the Tuesday Teleporter came to life. The device rattled and hummed as lights formed on the professor's office walls. Shapes of light began circling the room. As the noise from the teleporter grew louder and louder, I was starting to shake with fear thinking about the professor's warning. Tamika hid behind the big desk in his office.

When the green cloud that forms the teleporter settled into the center of his office, he signaled me to move the Critter Cam forward. I was a little nervous. The professor clearly said that he wanted me to be careful so that his Critter Cam wasn't damaged.

“Do you think somebody will really shoot at the Critter Cam?” I asked.

The professor looked at me out of the corner of his eye. Then he glanced over at Tamika. “Have you two been worried about that?”

I nodded my head. Then Tamika nodded hers.

“I didn't mean to scare you.” Professor Tuesday bent over to our height and looked at us. “I wouldn't do anything that would put you in danger. I was just a little concerned about the Critter Cam. You see,” he continued, “we will be going to the Levi Coffin house early in the morning. Since he lived in the town of Newport, there's a good chance that somebody will see the Critter Cam. If they see it, they might think it's a real skunk and shoot at it, that's all.”

“That makes sense,” I said. “So once the Critter Cam goes through your time machine, should I look for a place to hide? A place where we can see what's going on but the Critter Cam won't be out in the open?”

“Yes, good thinking,” answered the professor with two nods. “Now take the Critter Cam through the Tuesday Teleporter.”

I pushed on the remote's joystick and the Critter Cam jumped forward—almost doing a wheelie. As it entered the teleporter, it disappeared bit by bit until it was gone. We gathered around Professor Tuesday's laptop as he switched on the camera mounted to the Critter Cam. An image slowly formed on the screen.

It was a quiet morning in a small town. We were looking at a small two-story house.

“Wow,” said Professor Tuesday, “we landed right in front of Levi Coffin's house. I took a tour of that house a few years ago.”

Suddenly, a woman's scream broke the silence.

Tamika hid her head. “I knew it, I knew it. Those poor slaves are going to be captured.'

“Wait,” said the professor as he stared at the screen. “I don't see any fugitive slaves nearby.”

Then we heard more.

“SKUNK! There's a skunk over there by Levi's house!” we heard a woman shout. “Jeremiah, get your gun and shoot that awful thing!”

The professor looked at me and said one word: “Move!”

I pushed the joystick forward hard and headed the camera right for the Coffin house. When I got near the front door, I turned it hard to the right, turned left at the corner, and hid it underneath some bushes in the backyard. Even though the Critter Cam was doing the work, I actually started sweating.

Through an opening in the bushes, we could see a man walking toward the front of the Coffin house. He was carrying a long gun and looking up and down the street. The man cupped his hand around his mouth and shouted. “Doggone it, I don't see no skunk! And I don't smell no skunk!” A woman shouted back at him, but we couldn't make out what she was saying. The man with the gun walked out of view and everything went quiet once again.

“What do we do now?” I asked.

“We wait,” answered the professor.

“What are we waiting for?” Tamika asked quietly.

“If my research is right,” said the professor, “there will be a couple of wagons full of cargo from Kentucky showing up at Mr. Coffin's house.”

“What kind of cargo,” I asked.

“Human cargo,” the professor replied, as he looked closer at the screen on his laptop.

Time passed slowly as we waited. Tamika and I played tic-tac-toe on the professor's blackboard. After about 40 minutes or so, the professor called out. “Come here, I think something's happening.”

We ran over to the professor's computer and watched the screen carefully. A dog trotted by the Critter Cam and out into the street.

“It's just a dog,” I said.

“Watch a little longer,” the professor replied.

All of a sudden, the dog started barking in excitement.

“Is the dog barking at the Critter Cam?” I asked as I picked up the remote.

“No,” the professor said, pointing at the screen, “the dog is barking at something in the street.”

Just then, a horse-drawn wagon came into view throwing a cloud of dust high into the air. The driver pulled back on the reins and the rig stopped right in front of the house. The wagon was loaded high with hay. Just as the driver got down from the wagon, a second wagon pulled up, also loaded with hay.

Both drivers met in the street and talked in low whispers. They looked in both directions before taking a few steps toward the house. Their coats and hats were covered with dust from the road.

“Anybody home?” one of the men shouted.

Without being told, I moved the Critter Cam to a different bush, one that was closer to the front of the house. Professor Tuesday looked at me, smiled, and nodded his head.

We saw a woman come out of the front door of the house and greet the two men. “What have you got there?”

“All Kentucky,” one of the men answered.

“Well,” she replied, “bring all Kentucky in.”

The wagon drivers walked to their wagons and lowered wooden panels in the back. Beneath the piles of hay were secret compartments that hid runaway slaves. We counted them as they came out. There were seventeen in all.

From inside the house, a man's voice boomed, “Now that's about as many as the cars can bear at one time.”

I looked over at the professor. “What does that mean?”

“It means that the wagons were as full as they could be and couldn't take another person. He is also saying that seventeen is a very large number of people for a conductor on the Underground Railroad to handle,” the professor answered. Then he pointed at the screen on the laptop. “Watch carefully. This is a very dangerous moment. If there are slave hunters nearby, there could be violence.”

I huddled close to Tamika. If I were a nail biter, I'd be chewing away.

“
N
ow you may switch off. Put your locomotives in my stable and let them blow off steam. We will water and feed them,” the man's voice from inside the house called out.

“What does that mean?” Tamika asked.

“Well,” answered the professor, “that must be Mr. Coffin talking to the wagon drivers. He realizes that the fugitive slaves as well as the wagon drivers and their horses are exhausted after their long and scary journey. The ‘locomotives' are the horses that pulled the wagon. He is telling the drivers to take the horses to his stable were they can rest. Mr. Coffin is also telling the drivers that someone will feed and water the horses.”

Once the runaways went inside the house, the wagon drivers led their teams to the stable. They walked right by the Critter Cam. The horses were so close it was like we could reach out and touch them. They were glistening with sweat and must have been driven hard on their journey.

“Was he really the President of the Underground Railroad?” I asked.

“Not really,” answered the professor. “There was no President of the Underground Railroad. A group of slave hunters called him that because he boasted about his opposition to slavery. He did not hide the fact that he was helping them to escape. His bold statements took a lot of courage.” The professor gave us a wink, “Even though Levi Coffin was a humble Quaker, I suspect he liked the title of ‘President' of the Underground Railroad.”

As we continued watching, the professor told us more about Levi. “It wasn't easy helping runaway slaves back in those days. Feeding and caring for them was hard work, and it was expensive as well. The Coffin family also faced danger on a daily basis. To those people who believed in keeping slavery legal, the Coffins were considered to be criminals.”

“What I don't get,” I said, “is why those drivers delivered the escaped slaves in the daytime. Wasn't that extra dangerous?”

“Most stations along the Underground Railroad operated in the dark to hide their activities. Levi Coffin believed that slavery was such a terrible thing; he was always ready to help. It didn't matter if it was the middle of the day or the middle of the night. Remember, Newport, Indiana, was a Quaker community, so the Coffins had support from their family, friends, and neighbors for their work to help slaves find freedom.”

“Were they ever arrested?” I asked.

“There were those who tried to have them arrested. Levi and his family had several scrapes with slave owners and people who believed in slavery. In fact, there was a situation where he actually had to appear in court to face charges of harboring fugitive slaves.”

“What happened?” I asked.

“Well,” answered the professor, “Levi was surprised to see that he knew several of the jurors. He even knew that some of them were against slavery. Still, when he was asked if he knew that helping slaves was against Indiana law, he gave a very interesting answer.”

Professor Tuesday looked up from his computer. “Levi told them straight out that people often stopped at his house and claimed they were slaves. But the laws of Indiana didn't allow evidence provided by slaves, so there was no way of knowing whether they were being truthful when they were claiming to be slaves.”

“He outsmarted them,” Tamika said softly. “That's very cool.”

Once the wagon drivers finished their chores, we watched them walk back to the house. We could hear people talking inside and dishes rattling. They must have been eating.

“A little bit ago,” the professor said, “I told you that I had a chance to visit the Levi Coffin house in Fountain City. You know, the town that used to be called Newport. Anyway, in a bedroom upstairs, Levi had a small door built into a wall. The doorway led to a little room that could hold slaves. If they needed to, they could put a bed in front of this door to hide it.”

“Wow,” I said, “what a great idea.”

Professor Tuesday continued to teach us about Levi Coffin and Newport, Indiana. “Levi Coffin openly operated as a conductor on the Underground Railroad, but he still took extra precautions to make sure that fugitives were protected. The runaways we saw today look to be strong and healthy. That's good. But they didn't always arrive that way. In fact, many arrived nearly naked, cold, and starving. Most people in the area pitched in to help. The Newport sewing society often met at the Coffin house and made clothes while other people helped raise money.”

“Why would escaped slaves need money?” I asked.

“Some people demanded to be paid to help slaves,” the professor answered as he scratched his long, fluffy beard. “For them it was business.” He adjusted his glasses before continuing. “There were times when escaped slaves traveled on railroads or boats. They had to pay their way, so they needed money. Sometimes the men who drove the wagons—like the ones we saw today— were paid as much as $15 for each runaway they were hauling. It was dangerous work for everyone involved.”