Beyond Crossriver

PART I:

THE ESCAPE

1

Crossriver Plantation

The sun rose on a dreary, wet morning.

Bells ringing, the signal of another days work for slaves in the cotton fields.

But, this morning carried an ominous feeling.

The field hands exited their homes,

Small wooden shanties held up by brick piles positioned under the four corners and two center portions of the structure.

They passed the abused and gun shot riddled shanty #4 that sheltered their friends.

Many of whom, overheard the raid that took place that night.

But, decided against stopping the men from taking their lives.

To them, it was a constant reminder of the helplessness of their plight,

The terror that continuously threatens every moment of their lives.

One by one, they walked by.

Until three men stopped, struck by the pain of what they saw and felt.

Gathering courage, they approached the shanty walking up the front steps.

Door hanging from the hinges,

The first man in moved them to the side and entered the front room, where they noticed three women lying lifeless on the floor.

Tears ran from their eyes as they began to gather the bodies.

The men’s actions drew the attention of other slaves.

Who in turn approach the front steps of the shanty, curious to see what had taken place.

As they did, the plantation overseers dressed in dark blue jeans, thin long sleeve shirts, boots, and cowboy hats rode up to the crowd on horseback.

Of the five men,

One drew his rifle from the holster and pointed it into the air.

BLAST

A warning shot was fired.

"Drop those bodies and get ya’ll asses out of there!"

The field hands came running out of the shanty, stumbling down the steps.

"Did we tell you to touch those bodies?" his eyes stared at them from beneath the brim of his hat.

"No sir" one of the slaves answered nervously.

He pointed the barrel of his rifle at the man standing in the center of the three.

BLAST

Shot him in the chest.

The man fell backwards hitting the ground.

He moved for a brief minute and then died in that spot.

Don’t touch anything without permission! the overseer pointed his rifle at the rest of the group.

"Get to the stables . . . .All of you!" he yelled out.

The other overseers pulled out their whips,

Buck their horses to a galloping stride through the slave quarters,

Lashing the bodies of everyone standing in the crowd.

Startled by the whippings,

Slaves fled from the quarter section to the stables.

Once there,

They ran into two men lying on the ground badly beaten and surrounded by a dozen men clutching sticks and whips.

Next to the stables,

They saw a seven foot deep hole dug in the mud and manure.

Five men approached the crowd from the left side of the structure.

In the center of the group stood a 5'-6", burley man wearing a ten gallon white hat to match his long sleeve white shirt, blue jeans, and boots.

He had lightly gray colored short head of hair and neatly trimmed beard, aged facial features of an early fifties year old.

In the right hand, he gripped a whip.

The symbol of his discipline,

An instrument of fear imbedded in the minds of his slave population.

Mr. Douglass Cooper was his name,

Owner and master of the Crossriver Plantation, covering 100 acres of land off the north bank of the Chattahoochee River, northeast of Atlanta.

A prime location providing him with transportation to deliver his cotton crops to ports in Columbus to the North and the Florida Gulf Coast to the South.

He utilized a slave population of 88 men, women, and children to tend to these cotton crops, to maintenance the plantation grounds and mansion, and maintain his prized horse stable.

Mr. Cooper took off his hat and looked at the slave crowd with a stern eye.

"Have I not made myself clear?

Perhaps the last set of killings didn’t get your attention," rubbing his beard.

I will not tolerate stupidity!

Walking through the crowd,

He picked out an old man, his longest tenured slave serving him for more than 40 years and hit him in the face with the butt of his whip.

The force threw the man to the ground leaving a cut across the right side of his chin.

Don’t steal from me!

He began kicking the man repeatedly, until he lay unconscious, making him an example to the rest of the crowd.

Mr. Cooper then walked over to the two beaten men pointing at their bodies.

"They chose to break the laws of this plantation.

Beating them will not be acceptable to me anymore.

They will die a painful death.

As will you suffer punishment for their poor conduct."

He turns to his senior overseer; a tough lean and thick 6 ft tall 200 pound Rough Rider.

Early forties in age, sporting a mustache, Roy commanded the respect of Mr. Cooper’s team of overseers.

Roy, take these bastards over to the hole!

The two beaten slaves were dragged from the stables by rope twisted around their necks.

"You will respect my law at all times!

Stealing of any kind, including chickens carries the weight of death."

He looked down on the beaten slaves and spat on them.

Last night’s dinna was yo last! he smiled.

Toss em’ in! he ordered Roy.

Without hesitation, both men were thrown into the hole.

Shovels of mud and manure would follow, until the men were completely covered.

Their screams for help would be heard no more,

They were buried alive.

The punishment will begin! Mr. Cooper shouted out.

As he through up his right hand, the overseers began swinging their whips and sticks hitting every slave they came in contact with.

Mr. Cooper then placed his hat on his head.

Get them all into the fields and work them to death! ordering his overseers, as he walked away from the stables.

Roy started shooting his rifle into the air.

His men mounted their horses and began to clear the area.

Get your asses to work! they yelled at crowd of slaves.

Shaken from the lashes felt across their backs,

The men, women, and children ran into the fields to begin their work.

Off to the side, Mr. Cooper turned to Roy and inquired about Thomas.

Have you found the boy yet?

"No, we haven’t seen him.

We killed everyone inside that shack, except tha little girl Ken shot in the back.

If she isn’t dead by now, her blood trail can lead us to the both of them.

I did find these hidden under the floor boards of the back room where they slept."

Roy pulled out two books that he found, The Battle of Life and Oliver Twist, along with a copy of the June 21st edition of the Philadelphia Inquirer and handed them to Mr. Cooper.

"These books were some of Elizabeth’s favorites and this paper was her way of staying in touch with her hometown.

Liberal arts and theater was her passion, it was how we met.

And she shared it with that damn boy!" feeling betrayed.

"All that time I let her spend with him.

I want you to destroy that shanty,

Burn it to the ground!

Then go out and find them both.

Kill the girl, if she isn’t already dead and bring the boy to me.

He is mine!" an angered Mr. Cooper ordered his senior overseer.

He climbed up on his wagon and rode back to the mansion.

Roy rounded up his men and laid out a plan to find Thomas and his sister.

Directing his three trusted friends, Roy split the group into three parties.

"Mark, I want you to take four men and go back to their shanty and destroy it.

The powder is already there for you to use.

After you’ve done that, search the area traveling north up the river bank.

Joe, I want you to take five men and search south of the river back to the railroad.

Harvey, take the rest of the men and manage the plantation while we are gone.

I will search the homes and rail station in the area.

We’ll meet back in this grove by night fall.

Now let’s move . . . . we’ve got huntin’ to do."

Roy and his men disperse to start their search for the two runaways.

2  

Wooded Area, Northwest of Crossriver

For Amanda and Thomas, the morning brought a different perspective  

to their lives, wanted runaways.

Awoken by the noise of gunshots coming from the plantation,

Thomas sprang from bushes they were using for cover and searched the area to make sure no one was around.

After five minutes passed,

Thomas returned to check on his sister, who laid sleep on the wet grass.

Removed the leaves from over her,

Thomas notice blood stains soaked into the linen dress covering her upper left back shoulder.

Concerned by what he saw, Thomas immediately tried to wake her.

Amanda, Amanda! shaking her fearing she was dead.

Tom, tha hurts! she replied.

I thought you died, concerned about her welfare.

No, but I don’t feel good, pain clearly showing on her face.

"What’s wrong?

Where does it hurt?" Thomas was eager to help.

Amanda started reaching for the backside of her left shoulder.

She removed her dress sleeve turning towards him.

Thomas could see the wound was still raw, but much of the bleeding had stopped.

He tore away the lower portions of his shirt to clean away the dry blood and dirt from her wound and placed pressure on it, until the bleeding stopped completely.

In doing so, he could feel that Amanda’s body was getting cold.

Knowing any type of infection or sickness would cause her to become very ill.

Thomas prepared himself to go back to the slave quarters.

"I have to go and get help.

Please try to get some rest, but don’t go to sleep!" he stressed to her.

Thomas took off his shirt and covered her with it.

This should keep you warm, he stood up to head back.

Amanda reached for him, grabbing his leg.

Don’t be gon long.

He turned around and kneeled down beside her,

"I know you are scared, but I have to go and get supplies to help you.

I will be back soon and you will see everything will be okay," Thomas replied trying to comfort her fears.

He stood back up and ran back through the bushes, down the trail, back to the plantation.

Amanda laid back undercover waiting for him to return.

3  

Slave Quarters, Crossriver Plantation

After an hour’s journey,

Thomas entered the slave quarters south of the mansion.

Ducking from bush to bush,

He made it to the tree line that ran through the back yard of shanty #4.

Looking from behind the brush cover,

Thomas saw the damage caused by the raid.

With no one in the area,

He made his way to the shanty and entered through the front doorway.

There, Thomas saw pieces of wood from broken furniture and glass scattered all over the place.

Putting memories aside, Thomas started gathering supplies for their journey.

Going to the back bedroom, he checked his hiding place underneath the floor boards for the books that he kept.

But, they were nowhere to be found.

Figuring the men had taken them back to Mr. Cooper,

Thomas returned to the front room to tend to the bodies of his mother, grandmother, and older sister lying on the cold wooden floors.

He paused for a few seconds and started to cry.

Feeling somewhat responsible for what had happened there that night,

Thomas gathered up their bodies and placed them together in the center of the room.

He then kneeled down beside them, bowed his head, and said a prayer.

Knowing their spirits were safe with God,

Thomas got up and walked to the front door of the house.

There, he picked up a keg of gun powder sitting near the front steps and carried it out the back door.

With great pain in his heart,

Thomas popped the cork from the keg and began back tracking to the shanty, leaving a trail of gun powder.

As he walked up the back steps,

Thomas dropped the keg, startled by the sounds of gunshots in the air and people screaming.

He looked around nervously.

Not seeing anyone, he picked it back up and hurried back into the shanty.

Ya’ll are now free and them men will never be able to hurt you again.

Thomas placed the keg next to the women.

Hearing the screams draw closer to the quarters,

Thomas picked up his supplies and packed them in a sack that he used to store cotton that he picked in the fields.

He then placed the strap across his body and ran out the back doorway.

Stopping in the middle of the back yard, Thomas struck a match and lit the end of the gun powder trail with fire.

As it streaked towards the shanty, he ducked into the tree line and started running back to Amanda.

Three minutes after Thomas had left,

Mark and his men rode up to the front of shanty #4 on horseback.

Where is the keg, didn’t we leave it out front? Mark asked his men.

I don’t know, but I can smell it, replied John.

The five men dismounted from their horses and proceeded inside the shanty.

There it is! one of his men spotted it lying next to the bodies of the three women they killed the night before.

As they got closer, a spark lit up the room as fire burned along the trail of powder towards the keg.

It’s a trap, Run! yelled one of his men.

They dropped everything and fled towards the front doorway.

Within a second, the fire reached the keg and the shanty exploded.

Black smoke and reddish-orange ambers billowed into the air.

Leaving behind smothering pieces of the wood frame,

The blast could be heard for miles startling the working field slaves and bring enjoyment to the overseers of the plantation.

4  

Wooded Area Northwest of Plantation

Traveling through the woods,

Thomas could hear the blast.

He stopped and paused for a second looking up at the sky in remembrance  

of his family.

God, take care of them, whispering to himself.

Aware the blast would draw attention to the area,

Thomas resumed his running, trying to put as much distance between him and Crossriver.

After an hour’s travel, Thomas found Amanda lying under a cover of bushes.

Are you awake? he asked shaking her right arm.

Ya, I am, she lifted her head.

I would of missed you, if yo arm wasn stick’n out of the leaves.

"I didn want no one to see me, so I moved over here.

Did you hear tha big boom?" she asked him, as she got up off the ground.

Hear what? trying to play off the question; already knowing what had happen.

Somethin blew up back there! Amanda pointed to smoke rising above the tree tops in the direction Thomas had just come from.

"I heard it.

It was me.

I blow up our home.

Now come on, lets go befoe someone catches us!" Thomas grabbed their things in a hurry.

Caus if you heard it, those oversees must have heard it and they will come looking this way.

Why did you do that? asked Amanda tears running down her eyes.

So those men can’t hurt them anymo!

Where are we goin?

For right now, Miller’s pond, so I can think about what to do next.

Miller’s pond was a watering hole, they would sneak off to with friends to play and swim during the hot summer days, 20 miles