Read Online Second Daughter by Mildred Pitts; Walter - Free Book Online

mine: Bett.” The master was pleased.
    With Bett being so busy, Little Bett became as much my baby as hers. I tied her on my back and felt her warmth and her little heartbeat, and for the first time I loved, expecting nothing in return.
    In January of 1773, there was much coming and going in the Ashley house. The plan that my sister had talked about became the Sheffield Declaration. It was now ready. Josiah called his friends and others together and Bett reported, “Master Ashley and his friends are planning a town meeting for all the citizens to hear what they have decided to send to the king’s representative. The master still seems uncertain about separating from the king, but certain that he wants the Bay Colony of Massachusetts to draw the borderline between them and New York.”
    â€œThat John Ashley is a Tory, isn’t he?” Agrippa said. “One of a few around here who fully supports the king. He must know that a lot of people don’t care for him because of that.”
    â€œThings are changing and he is beginning to see he has to be either for this colony or for the king. I think he is for this colony,” Josiah said.
    â€œIt doesn’t matter who they’re for, I want to know who’s for us?” Brom said. “We have a right to freedom and liberty just as much as they have.”
    â€œAgrippa, as free men we should go and see what this is all about,” Josiah said.
    â€œWhy don’t you take ‘resolves’ like theirs and present them?” Bett asked.
    â€œTo the king’s representative?” Agrippa asked.
    â€œNo, to Master Ashley and the men who wrote their declaration,” Bett said. “Add your words to theirs.”
    â€œBett is right. We must be ready with just what we want to say,” Josiah said.
    All that Saturday night and the next day, they worked on the paper, Bett remembering much of what had been said in the room upstairs. Agrippa did the writing. I was so proud of all of them—the men and Bett working together. My hopes of freedom filled me with joy. I looked at Little Bett, finally walking on her own. I lifted her up, hugged her close, and whispered into her ear, “Mijn schatje [my honey], we’ll be free, free, free!”
    On January 12, cold winds were blowing and the icy rain was in heavy clouds just waiting to drench those many white men and few free blacks who had come from around the county to accept or reject the Sheffield Declaration. Bett was as nervous and as anxious as any of the men who had done the writing. I knew if she had been a man she would have been there at the Sheffield town hall, but no woman, slave or free, was allowed to attend.
    Around noon rain was still falling and the cold winds were even more cold. Finally, after waiting for the master a long time, lunch was served, and I was busy finishing the cleaning. As if she had suddenly gotten the idea, the mistress said, “Lizzie, I want you to go to that meeting place and take your master some food and hot rum.”
    In that icy rain, I thought. Hot rum would be cold by the time I arrived. My body tightened with anger, but I said nothing as I wrapped myself in an old shawl that would do little to protect me from the rain. Nance wrapped the food and drink in thick layers of cloth, tied to give me a handle.
    Along the muddy road, horses still hitched to wagons stood heads down, their bodies giving off steam. I hurried, the icy rain stinging my face, numbing my hands. When I came to the hall, just beyond the tailor shop, I went toward the front, but the crowd there was so thick I was afraid that I would not be able to enter. At the back the crowd was just as thick. Knowing that I had to find the master, I forced my way inside. The heat, the stench of damp bodies, and the fog of tobacco smoke gave me a fit of coughing.
    Moving beyond elbows and rough coats, I soon found the master up front seated on a small platform with about six