Iola Leroy by Frances Ellen Watkins Harper (books you need to read .txt) 📕

“Bounty money,” said Robert.

“Yes, dat’s jis’ what he called it, bounty money. An’ I said dat I war in for dat, teeth and toenails.”

Robert Johnson’s heart gave a great bound. Was that so? Had that army, with freedom emblazoned on its banners, come at last to offer them deliverance if they would accept it? Was it a bright, beautiful dream, or a blessed reality soon to be grasped by his willing hands? His heart grew buoyant with hope; the lightness of his heart gave elasticity to his step and sent the blood rejoicingly through his veins. Freedom was almost in his grasp, and the future was growing rose-tinted and rainbow-hued. All the ties which bound him to his home were as ropes of sand, now that freedom had come so near.

When the army was afar off, he had appeared to be lighthearted and content with his lot. If asked if he desired his freedom, he would have answered, very naively, that he was eating his white bread and believed in letting well enough alone; he had no intention of jumping from the frying-pan into the fire. But in the depths of his soul the love of freedom was an all-absorbing passion; only danger had taught him caution. He had heard of terrible vengeance being heaped upon the heads of some who had sought their freedom and failed in the attempt. Robert knew that he might abandon hope if he incurred the wrath of men whose overthrow was only a question of time. It would have been madness and folly for him to have attempted an insurrection against slavery, with the words of McClellan ringing in his ears: “If you rise I shall put you down with an iron hand,” and with the home guards ready to quench his aspirations for freedom with bayonets and blood. What could a set of unarmed and undisciplined men do against the fearful odds which beset their path?

Robert waited eagerly and hopefully his chance to join the Union army; and was ready and willing to do anything required of him by which he could earn his freedom and prove his manhood. He conducted his plans with the greatest secrecy. A few faithful and trusted friends stood ready to desert with him when the Union army came within hailing distance. When it came, there was a stampede to its ranks of men ready to serve in any capacity, to labor in the tents, fight on the fields, or act as scouts. It was a strange sight to see these black men rallying around the Stars and Stripes, when white men were trampling them under foot and riddling them with bullets.

“Well, boys,” said Robert to his trusted friends, as they gathered together at a meeting in Gundover’s woods, almost under the shadow of the Union army, “how many of you are ready to join the army and fight for your freedom.”

“All ob us.”

“The soldiers,” continued Robert, “are camped right at the edge of the town. The General has his headquarters in the heart of the town, and one of the officers told me yesterday that the President had set us all free, and that as many as wanted to join the army could come along to the camp. So I thought, boys, that I would come and tell you. Now, you can take your bag and baggage, and get out of here as soon as you choose.”

“We’ll be ready by daylight,” said Tom. “It won’t take me long to pack up,” looking down at his seedy clothes, with a laugh. “I specs ole Marse’ll be real lonesome when I’m gone. An’ won’t he be hoppin’ mad when he finds I’m a goner? I specs he’ll hate it like pizen.”

“O, well,” said Robert, “the best of friends must part. Don’t let it grieve you.”

“I’se gwine to take my wife an’ chillen,” said one of the company.

“I’se got nobody but myself,” said Tom; “but dere’s a mighty putty young gal dere at Marse Tom’s. I wish I could git her away. Dey tells me dey’s been sellin’ her all ober de kentry; but dat she’s a reg’lar spitfire; dey can’t lead nor dribe her.”

“Do you think she would go with us?” said Robert.

“I think she’s jis’ dying to go. Dey say dey can’t do nuffin wid her. Marse Tom’s got his match dis time, and I’se glad ob it. I jis’ glories in her spunk.”

“How did she come there?”

“Oh, Marse bought her ob de trader to keep house for him. But ef you seed dem putty white han’s ob hern you’d never tink she kept her own house, let ’lone anybody else’s.”

“Do you think you can get her away?”

“I don’t know; ’cause Marse Tom keeps her mighty close. My! but she’s putty. Beautiful long hair comes way down her back; putty blue eyes, an’ jis’ ez white ez anybody’s in dis place. I’d jis’ wish you could see her yoresef. I heerd Marse Tom talkin’ ’bout her las’ night to his brudder; tellin’ him she war mighty airish, but he meant to break her in.”

An angry curse rose to the lips of Robert, but he repressed it and muttered to himself, “Graceless scamp, he ought to have his neck stretched.” Then turning to Tom, said:⁠—

“Get her, if you possibly can, but you must be mighty mum about it.”

“Trus’ me for dat,” said Tom.

Tom was very anxious to get word to the beautiful but intractable girl who was held in durance vile by her reckless and selfish master, who had tried in vain to drag her down to his own low level of sin and shame. But all Tom’s efforts were in vain. Finally he applied to the Commander of the post, who immediately gave orders for her release. The next day Tom had the satisfaction of knowing that Iola Leroy had been taken as a trembling dove from the gory vulture’s nest and given a place of