The Hickory Hill Slave House

The Hickory Hill Slave House
word count = 4,424

         It was cold, dark, and it smelled. Tears streamed down Ellza's face. She sniffled and whimpered in spite of being admonished to keep still.

         “Child, hush your cryin’!” Ambrose spat out with a hoarse whisper, “You gonna git all of us whipped, if’n you don’t hush up.”

         “I cain’t help it, Ambrose. I is scaird.” Ellza whispered in return. “What they gonna do wit us. I heared they eats runaways.”

         “Don’t be foolish, Gal! You’ve been listenin’ to too many tales by the fire. They ain’t nobody gonna eat you!” Ambrose sighed as he continued. “They’s other things worsen’ being ate you need to fret ‘bout, especially for a young gal slave like you.”

         Terror resurfaced in Ellza’s soul and she again began sobbing. “Oh, Lordy, Lordy, I don’t want nothin’ to git me, Ambrose!”

         “They’s nothin’ you can do ‘bout it now, Gal. Best you jest quiet down, before they comes to see what all the catter-wailling’s about.” Ambrose spoke as sympathetically as he could, “For you own good, jest quiet down…quiet down now!”

         Ellza lowered her crying to an almost silent sob, curled up in as tight a ball as she could, and closed her eyes. Maybe she could get some sleep, she reasoned. At least she could get some relief from her sorry situation when she slept. That is if the dreams didn’t come.

         Three days ago Ellza and Jubal had floated across the mighty Ohio River from Kentucky into the free state of Illinois. Jubal insisted everything would be different once they made it to the free states. She trusted Jubal. He was a strong man. And, he was smart for a slave. Jubal had learned to read words. It was against the law for him to do so, but his Massa was a practical man who figured Jubal was more productive and valuable if he were educated just a little. And so, Jubal was taught to read words and cipher figures. At harvest time, his talents came in handy. Jubal witnessed the sales and acquisitions made by the overseer and confirmed his figures. He did this of course without the knowledge of the overseer. As a result, there had been several overseers on his Massa'a plantation caught pilfering goods and money. It appeared honest overseers were few to come by. Jubal’s limited education was well worth it to his Massa.

         Ellza never worked the fields. She was a house slave. She was the same age as her Massa’s daughter and was in fact her servant/companion. The two girls grew up together. The innocence of children new no social boundary as they became good friends. However, the color of Ellza's skin and her position as a slave separated them socially. Ellza, sheltered by the influence of her mistress, did not experience the harsh life of the fields. She was not treated as chattel or bred to produce more workers for the field work. As long as her mistress needed her, she was sheltered under her protection. And, complacent to her sitiation, she would have been content to serve her mistress continually, with no thought of ever leaving, submitting to forever being a slave.

         However, she had met Jubal, and he filled her head with wondrous thoughts and ideas. Jubal knew things. He often accompanied his Massa on business trips to the city. Jubal observed the white folks carefully, as they did business. He read their discarded newspapers. And, he witnesses events and sights Ellza would never have imagined. One cool spring night, several weeks ago, Ellza sat around Jubal's campfire as he told her of the free slave he had met that day.

         “I wish you could have seen him, Ellza.” Jubal spoke in wonder, “He was a right fine sight, he was. Jest a sittin’ in that chair across from the Massa; at the same table, big as you please. They was talkin’ like equals, our Massa sitting there in his white suit and fine white hat. An' there across from him was this free black man in his fine clothing and fancy vest.

         “After the Massa left, that free man searched me out. He told me how he was once a slave long time ago, an’ how he escaped to the free states. His name is Moses--jest like Moses of the Bible. Ole’ Moses there told me how he led black slaves off of the plantations down South, about how he hides 'em in cellars and in hay wagons. Jest like Moses led the children from the land of Egypt, that black Moses leads them slaves into the free states north of the Ohio River. Yes sir! It’s jest like crossing over Jordan when you crosses that Ohio River.”

         “Lands sake, Jubal!” Ellza exclaimed, “I cain’t believe the Massa would just let Moses take those folks North.”

         “Oh, Ellza, Child,” Jubal turned serious, “the Massa and the white folks don’t let Moses have those slaves. Moses jest takes ‘em. They runs off in the middle of the night, right out from under the overseer’s whip. Those slaves finds Ole Moses at a spot on the road, an’ he shuffles 'em into wagons and takes 'em to a safe place. An’ that’s the way they do it, a goin’ from one safe place to the nuther, until they's at the Promised Land.”

         “But, Jubal,” Ellza queried, “what if’n they gets caught? What happens to them when they’s caught?”

         “You don’t wanna think about that, Gal!” Jubal proclaimed, “If’n you’s caught, the slavers do most near what they wants with you. They hangs some of the men, an' they have their way with the women. But, they don’t figer to kills ‘em. They gets more money for a live slave than a dead one. But, sometimes, Child, they jest don’t care.”

         “I don’t know Jubal. I’d love to be a free slave--free to do what I wants to. Maybe I can gets some of those fine dresses like my Misses has. Oh, wouldn’t that be somethin’?” Ellza grinned at Jubal and continued, “Would you come a courtin’ me if’n I was a free woman, Jubal?”

         “I supposes so, Ellza.” Jubal stammered, “But, we gots to be free first. That means we gotta run, Ellza.”

         “Oh, Jubal.” Ellza almost whispered, “what if’n we gets caught?”

         “We won’t” Jubal insisted. “I knows a place where we can wait for Moses to pick us up. After that, they ain’t nobody gonna find us when Moses leads us to the Promised Land.”

         That very evening, under the mantle of darkness, Jubal held Ellza’s hand as they fled through the forest to a waiting wagon with Moses attending. They traveled through the early morning until daylight broke. Finding refuge in the barn of a sympathetic abolitionist farmer, they spent the next day hidden in a back room of that barn, secreted behind a false wall. It was the first of many stations located along the Underground Railway. During the next two weeks they traveled only at night, being passed from guide to guide and station to station, until they stood on the bank of the Ohio River, looking into Illinois from Kentucky.

         “Lordy, Jubal,” Ellza spoke with a tremor in her voice, “that river is deep an' wide. I jest don’t see how a body gits across it ceptin’ by a boat or a bridge. An’ it’s so dark, Jubal.”

         “That’s true, Ellza.” Jubal responded. “It is shorely dark ‘n deep. But, look over on the other side. That’s freedom over there, Ellza. All we gotta do is hang on to this here raft an’ kick our feet. We’ll just float across this mighty river an' be free when we walk on the other side. Look at it; that’s all that lays betwixt us ‘n freedom.”

         “But I cain’t swim, Jubal,” Ellza protested. “I ain’t never been in no water that goes over my head.”

         Jubal smiled at the young girl, sympathetic to her terror of the water. “Lands sake, Gal, you don’t gots to swim. All you gots to do is hold on, jest hold on.”

         The raft was little more than a few logs lashed together. Their guide for this section of the route helped them shove off. There wasn’t enough room to sit on the raft; rather the two runaways held on to either side and kicked their feet to help propel them across the slowly moving river.

         “Keep a kickin’, Gal, keep a kickin’” Jubal admonished. “We’s almost there.”

         “I is kickin’, Jubal,” Ellza responded with closed eyes. “I is shorely kickin.’”

         The cold river water lapped her in the face and chilled her bones, but Ellza kept kickin’ until her feet struck the river bottom on the other bank. Illinois, the two runaways were now in Illinois. And, even though it was a free state they were far from safe. Hustling down the river bank to greet them with dry blankets, came a white man and woman, their last guides.

         “Come on up here out of that water. I’m Jedediah Baxter and this is my wife Elizabeth. You two must be Jubal and Ellza. Let’s get you two dried off and out of those wet clothes.”

         “Yes sir, that be us.” Jubal confirmed.

         The two runners shed the outer layer of their wet clothes, wrapped in the blankets and stumbled down the trail, accompanied by Jedediah and Elizabeth Baxter.

         “We’ve got a change of clothes at the wagon. It’s just over the hill here. Soon you’ll be safe and started on your new life.” Elizabeth spoke to comfort the two, as she placed her arm around Ellza and hurried her down the trail.

         The small group trudged through the almost hidden trail and broke into an opening along a narrow road where the wagon with a team of horses was waiting. Jubal and Ellza were ushered to either side of the wagon where the remainder of their clothing was removed and replaced with dry clothes. Little was said as the couples hurried through their tasks. When they were dressed, Jubal jumped into the back of the wagon and helped pull Ellza into the wagon bed. Jedediah and Elizabeth took their place in the wagon seats with Jedediah taking the reigns. He slapped the reigns skillfully and urged the horses into action with a grunted, “Giddup!”

         No sooner had they began down the trail when riders broke from the brush in front of them. The men carried shotguns and shouted for them to stop. Behind them Jubal saw three more riders coming towards them on the trail.

         “Who are these men?” Jubal demanded.

         Elizabeth answered, “They’re John Crenshaw’s night riders. They’re looking for you and Ellza.”

         “Oh, Lordy, Jubal, they’s gonna kill us!” Ellza cried.

         “Hush up,Gal!” Jubal snapped back. “They ain’t gonna kill us. But, they shore gonna put us in them chains they’s carryin.”

         “What we gonna do, Jubal?” Ellza was near hysterical with fright as the mounted men bore down on the wagon.

         “I don’t know Ellza! All I knows is I cain’t help you if’n I’m in those chains.” Jubal shouted in response, jumping from the bed of the wagon.

         “One’s jumped out!" One of the riders yelled, "Go get ‘em, Henry! If he gets in that thicket it’ll be the devil to find him.”

         A rider sprang from his horse and followed Jubal into the dense brush. The other men blocked the wagon's way. The men leveled shotguns and handguns at the group in the wagon. One of the riders leaned on his saddle horn and spoke to Jedediah.

         “Where ya goin’ there with Mr. Crenshaw’s property, Baxter?”

         “These people are not property, Bixbee. They are free people and guests in my home.” Jedediah reached into his breast pocket and withdrew some folded papers, handing them towards the night rider he referred to as Bixbee.

         Bixbee stared at Jedediah’s outstretched hand holding the papers and sneered, “Hell, I don’t want to see your papers, Baxter. This is Crenshaw land and any slave caught on Crenshaw land is the property of Mr. Crenshaw.”

         “It’s illegal to own slaves in Illinois, Bixbee. I have emancipation papers here that have already been filed at the court house for these two.” Jedediah protested.

         “Them papers ain’t legal,” Bixbee snorted with a menacing chuckle. “You know the law in Illinois permits slaves to work in the salt mines hereabouts. Hell the law says since no free man will do that work, it’s left to the slaves. Now, this is Crenshaw land, the mine is a Crenshaw mine, and, as I see it, that there is Mr. Crenshaw’s slave. The other one is too, as soon as Henry finds him.”

         No further words were spoken. With a nod of Bixbee’s head two of the night riders jumped from their horses and scrambled into the back of the wagon. Terrified, Ellza cried out, but was viciously slapped in the face by one of the men. The other man fixed the shackles to her hands, grabbed her by the waist, and tossed her onto his waiting horse, climbing up behind her. Jedediah stood to protest but two of the shotguns were cocked and pointed toward the Baxter couple. Any further protest would be life threatening, so they silently witnesses Ellza being kidnapped. Helplessly, they watched as the riders rode off with her. Jubal’s fate was unknown. Likely he would be hanged from some tree as a result of his resistance.

         It was still early in the morning when they arrived at Hickory Hill with Ellza. It was a grand house built in Classical Greek style. It was three stories with verandahs stretching on both the first and second floors. Massive columns lined along the entire front of the house. Ellza was ushered up three flights of stairs which opened onto a wide hallway on the third floor attic. Lined along the length of the hallway were cubicles or stalls, each with a wooden bunk facing the corridor. On the far wall in each stall was an iron ring with a chain fastened to it.

         Shackles were placed around Ellza’s ankles and secured to the chain. She could walk to the end of the stall but no further. She was alone in the stalls, with the exception of an old slave who was chained in the stall across from her. She was given a bucket in which she could relieve herself and a bucket of somewhat fresh water to drink. They left her there, chained, lonely, and worried out of her mind. Ellza collapsed in the middle of the cell floor and began sobbing uncontrollably. She was totally without hope or resources; all she could do was cry.

         “Taint no good to be bawlin’, Gal.” A voice spoke from the dimly lighted room. “Won’t help none an’ will jest wear you out.”

         Eventually, Ellza registered the voice and stiffled the sobbing enough to sputter a comment. “Who’s that? Who’s that out there?”

         “It’s just ole Ambrose, Gal.” The voice was strangely comforting to her. “I is a slave, jest like you. Ceptin’ I’m an old man. No good for working the salt mines no more. I is used up. I ‘spect I’ll be sold off soon as they can find someone who has use for an old man.”

         “An me? What’s they gonna do with me, Ambrose?” Ellza asked. “They gonna sell me off?”

         “Maybe, maybe they sells you. Or maybe they ransoms you back to your Massa down South where you ran from.” Ambrose answered thoughtfully and then continued. “That is if yore Massa wants you back. Depends on who gives ‘em the most money. But, maybe they jest lets you lay with Big Bob. They’s many a gal who lays with Big Bob.”

         Concerned Ellza pursued, “An’ who’s Big Bob?”

         “Big Bob’s Massa Crenshaw’s buck stud.” Ambrose informed, “There’s a passel of field gals who gets serviced by Bob. Some of ‘em don’t mind and some of ‘em fights like the dickens’. But, all of them lets Bob have his way sooner or later. Seems it’s cheaper to birth a new slave than to buy one. This here room up here is used for Bob’s stud servicin’.”

         Ellza laid her head in her arms and curled up on the ground, sobbing. She had heard enough. She felt totally deserted and hopeless.

         “That’s right, Gal. You lays there and cry. Cry ‘til you cain’t hold yore eyes open no more. Then you sleeps. Life’s gonna be hard from here on. Tonight the slaves will be back from the mines and Bob will be coming around to the new gals.” Ambrose quietly whispered, “You sleep now, Gal.”

         After the sun set, Ellza heard shuffling at the end of the hallway as footsteps ascended the stairs. She tried to focus on the hallway in the dim light. A man walked by with a lantern, followed by slow shuffling black sweaty bodies covered with salt dust. She heard chains being fixed to the stalls and bodies collapsing in exhaustion into the simple wooden beds. It didn’t take long, maybe twenty minutes to get the lot secured. Shortly, she saw the light of the lantern and heard softer footsteps in the hallway. Two field girls were led to the stalls on either side of Ambrose, across from Ellza. She heard the girls being secured by the chains. She thought she could hear crying from the stalls, quiet, hopeless crying. Finally, a man came by with a plate containing a crust of bread and a serving of stew. He placed it in the middle of the floor and moved on after emptying the waste bucket in a large tub on wheels.

         When he left, he took the light with him. The darkness invaded the attic, threatening, terrifying, and ominous. Ellza listened to the sounds of the attic. There were groans and moans from spent and tired men; some of them were instantly snoring, deep within some unconscious world where men in bondage go when they sleep. And, she heard the whimpering and the sobbing of the women, and added her own tears to the symphony of misery.

         Eventually the sobs decreased and the sound of snoring and sleeping men became the predominant sounds in the night. All possibility of sleep evaded Ellza; her eyes darted from corner to corner of her stall. In vain she peered into the hallway trying to recognize the muted shadows of shapes caused by darkness and the strangeness of that place. Suddenly, she heard a sound different than the others. The quiet walking on creaking boards of the hallway. The steps were slow and soft, but placed great pressure on the wood of the hallway coaxing reluctant groans from the floorboards. Someone was passing in the hallway. A shape loomed in the opening of her stall. It hesitated there. Ellza stopped breathing and stared at the hesitant mass. She felt the silent and ominous gaze of a predator looking at her from the darkness, measuring her, evaluating her, waiting. Her heart beat so rapidly and hard she felt the staccato rhythm in her temples. Terror welled up in her breast and threatened to erupt in a single enormous scream. But, she held her breath and stared at the massive shadow in the entrance to her stall.

         It moved, slowly and surely it moved on. She didn't see it enter the stall of one of the girls adjacent to Ambrose, but she heard the startled gasp of the girl chained within.

         “Oh, no, please no!” she heard the moan escape from the nearby stall.

         Then she heard a deep voice say, “Hush up, Gal. We gots to do this. An' you gots to help me.”

         There were no more words. But there were sounds of cries, moans, and the rustling and grunting of bodies in motion. Ellza held her hands tightly over her ears, keeping her eye on the opening of her stall. After a while she released her hands on her ears and listened. There was only quiet sobbing. And then the routine was repeated in the other stall with the other slave girl. This time Ellza left her ears uncovered as she listened in horror as Big Bob forced himself on the girl. When the noise was reduced to quiet sobs, Ellza tensed with ominous expectation, searching the darkness for her assailant.

         She didn’t wait long. The massive body filled the entrance of her stall, but did not hesitate at the opening. Quickly and stealthily he moved in the darkness and was on her in an instant. His big hands grabbed each arm near her shoulder and drew her to him. Ellza cried out in surprise and terror.

         “Hush up, Gal!” the bass voice insisted.

         Trembling, Ellza barely stammered, “What you gonna do with me?”

         “Depends, Gal.” The voice replied. “Is you Ellza?”

         Shocked that he mentioned her name, she could only say, “What?”

         “I said, is you Ellza, Gal?”

         Stunned she answerd, “Y..yes. I is Ellza.”

         “Then be very quiet.” The voice demanded. “I’m gonna take you out of here.”

         “No…no! What you gonna do out there? What you gonna do with me?” Ellza begged.

         “Hush up! I said!” Big Bob held his hand to her mouth. “I is takin’ a chance doin’ this, so you hush up and come with me! But you do it quiet, you hear?”

         “Yes, I hear.” Ellza conceded, “I’ll be quiet. Jest get me out of this place.”

         Bob turned his attention to the chains binding Ellza and shortly she heard the locks open and felt the chains fall from her hands and feet.

         Astonished, she asked, “How in Heaven’s sake you do that?”

         “Don’t you no never mind,” was all the big man said as he lifted Ellza to her feet with his massive arms.

         Half carrying her he rushed her down the hallway and down the narrow stairs to the overcast sky outdoors. The scent of the night flooded over Ellza and she breathed in deeply as if it was the last breath she would ever have. Bob rushed her across the clearing and into the woods. Her head was spinning with the happenings. She felt faint and fought to keep her senses. They sat and rested in a clearing. After a moment she gathered her courage and addressed the big man.

         “You is Big Bob, ain’t you?” Ellza asked.

         “I is,” he replied.

         “Why did you do this? Why did you take me out of that place?”

         “Cause I asks him to.” A voice from behind her spoke.

         Ellza wheeled around to discover Jubal standing just within the little clearing. Her heart soared as she recognized him.

         “Oh Jubal! You ain’t hanged!” She gushed as she ran to him and threw her arms around him.

         “No, Gal.” Jubal confirmed, “I ain’t hanged. I ran. I ran as fast as I ever ran. That white boy couldn’t catch me. When I gots back to the Baxter’s they told me you was taken to Hickory Hill. That’s where I found Bob.”

         “You knows him, Jubal? You knows Big Bob?” Ellza asked incredulously.

         Jubal smiled and explained, “It’s just like the miracles that Moses had when he led the children of Israel to the Promised Land. They had miracles aplenty. Well we gots a miracle of our own, Ellza. An' it's Big Bob.”

         “I don’t understand, Jubal. What are you talkin’ about?” Ellza questioned.

         “Well, Big Bob here is my kin, Ellza.” He gestured to Bob. “He’s my brother. I was sold an' taken away when we was young bucks. But, I found him right here, jest as we entered the Promised Land. An' that's a miracle, sure nuff.”

         Confused, Ellza looked to Bob, “But, Jubal, Bob does evil things in that house. He takes those gals an' has his way with ‘em, jest so’s Massa Crenshaw can have more slave babies. That’s an evil thing, Jubal.” She paused and shook her head as she remembered the terror of the night. “How can you do such an evil thing, Bob?”

         “Ellza,” Bob began to explain, “my Mam and Pap are livin’ over there at Hickory Hill Plantation. I gots a good woman and a boy child that lives with me. If’n I don’t do what I’m doin’, Massa Crehshaw will sell my family, put me in the salt mines, and get a new buck to do what I’m doin’.”

         “But, it’s an evil thing, Bob,” Ellza plead.

         “Yes’um, it is.”Bob agreed. “But, when I can, I frees a slave gal. And I tries to be easy on those women when I takes ‘em. Sometimes they don’t seem to mind. Sometimes it’s like it was tonight and the tears come. When that happens, I don’t leave no seed. All we do is make a passle of noise to convince the man I done my service. She don’t tell no one and I don’t tell no one.” Bob smiled sheepishly, “It fooled you. It takes a long spell to see if the gal’s with child. When they ain’t, they don’t know to blame it on me. But, I guess yore right; someday my maker will deal with ole Bob. I guess that’s jest the way it will have to be.”

         “Land’s sake,” Ellza stammered in wonder, “you didn’t take those gals tonight! It was a big joke. You done made a fool outa Massa Crenshaw. They’s not hurt; an’ now Crenshaw will leave them alone for a piece to see if’n they are with child. Land’s sake!”

         Jubal smiled at Bob. “We gots to be goin’ now. Sure you don’t want to go with us, Bob? They’s gonna be mad as a rabid dog when they find Ellza missin’.”

         “Yes sir, they’s be mad, alright.” Bob nodded in agreement. “They’s liable to beat ole Bob and whip me some. But, that’s all they gonna do. I cain’t go. I gots people here. If’n I goes, who they gonna get to pull the wool over their eyes in the night? No, I gotta stay here. But, you two gots to get out of Gallatin County. You’s free now. You done crossed over into the Promised Land.”


[John Crenshaw's house on Hickory Hill is located in Gallatin County near Equality, Illinois. It's said to be haunted. For many years, Crenshaw operated an Underground Railroad in reverse from the attic on the third floor, taking free men, women, and children into captivity and selling them into slavery in the slave states of the South. The house is still standing. As a personal note, I found one of my ancestors listed as a customer in the books of John Crenshaw’s local store.]