Virginia Hamilton by Anthony Burns: The Defeat, Triumph of a Fugitive Slave Page B

disappear into the deep woods of Stafford County and run for weeks under cover clear to the North. In Anthony’s case it meant that if Suttle did not consider what he wanted, Anthony might run away into the forest, where it would be difficult to catch him again. If word got around that Anthony had raised the argument , it would lower his value. For no one wanted to hire or purchase a slave with the runaway disease.
    Suttle sighed. “All right, Tony,” he said. “This time I’ll let you have it your way.”
    Anthony’s heart sprang for joy. He could leave Mars Brent!
    â€œBut you must now repair to the Hiring Ground,” Suttle told him. “And you will lead some of my Jims. Take Efrum, and Luther, Simon, and Whittom.
    â€œYou are in charge,” Suttle added. “You know how to go.”
    â€œYay sur, I know,” Anthony said, for he had hired out before. The Hiring Ground was in Stafford County, in a large village of more than two hundred houses, fifteen miles along the river. Its exact location was by the market and near the court house. It was in no way hard to find. Thinking about it gave Anthony mixed feelings, both somber and pleasant. He knew that if he could keep moving, he might find a way to freedom. Mamaw had told him all about it. Freedom was north. “Go find it,” she had said. The Hiring Ground might bring him one step closer.
    â€œYou meet me there with my Jims tomorry,” Suttle said. “Here is money for their food.”
    â€œI would have a penny for my lodging,” Anthony boldly said.
    Suttle looked at him sternly. “I ought to slap you in the face for that,” he said. “You will sleep with the rest, Tony. How can you keep your eye on them if you are not beside them? And if they get into difficulty, you will pay me for it.”
    â€œYay sur,” Anthony mumbled, bowing hishead as was proper. This time he had gone too far, but there was always hope in trying. He would ever try to get his way, forcing his owner to give a little and a little more each time. It was a small opening of freedom’s door.
    By seven o’clock the next morning, Anthony was ready. He gathered his charges and saw to it that they were dressed carefully enough for the hiring time. He gave them their passes, which allowed them to leave the Suttle house and their village and enter the next village for the purpose stated by their owner.
    â€œNow don’t you lose ’em papers,” he said, “ ’cause Mars Suttle won’t be comin’ till middayclean. We on my own time till then. And I ain’t having no pateroller along the way saying how we running so’s he can sell us off to Loozanna.”
    Anthony watched as each lad put his pass away in his clothing. “You get a little bread, a little cracklin’,” he said, and handed some to each. He carried a gourd for water. One of the others did also.
    Soon they were on their way. Anthony kept an even, fairly fast pace. So much so that after the food was eaten, he had to cajole his group along.
    â€œToo quick, Anthony,” Whittom said. He was a hang-back youth, even in this cool winter weather.
    â€œKeep you warmer, walking fast,” Anthony told him.
    â€œThen talk some more,” Whittom panted.
    â€œI am talking,” Anthony said, and began a quiz. “Who’s oldest of Mars Charles’ black folks?”
    They all answered promptly. “Your own mama!”
    â€œThat’s it,” Anthony said. “And who’s youngest of Mars Eldy’s colored boys?”
    They all thought about the nearest planter’s young male slaves. They saw other planters and their slaves only at church-sermon time. “That be one they calls By Big Ducey,” said Whittom.
    â€œBut what his name called?” asked Anthony.
    â€œThat be the name!” cried Efrum.
    â€œThat just be who ’em by,” Luther said. “I know what his name