For Want of A Wheel
January 1800 – Brookfield Plantation, Virginia
The driver was in a foul mood when he walked up to plantation. Of course his arrival had been noticed and several slaves clustered about the gate as he walked up onto the steps of the house. Thomas Prosser waited until the driver was almost to the bottom of the steps and then exited his house. Prosser regarded the driver carefully and spoke:
“Good day sir. Welcome to Brookfield.”
The driver looked down slightly in a curt nod. “Thank you for your greeting sir. My name is Jonathan Cross.” Prosser made no move to neither invite the driver in nor shake his hand. “I was driving a load into Richmond and my wagon broke one of its’ hard wheels at the Bridge. I was hoping you had a smith I could hire to fix it.”
Prosser smiled. The accent and the exchange had fixed their social positions. “My name is Thomas Prosser. I have an excellent boy. In fact he is working today shoeing and I was about to go down to the smith and see to his work. You will accompany me down?” The driver nodded again and looked down. He was normally a proud man but he needed Prosser help here, so best to play the obedient Yeoman to ‘my lord’, perhaps Prosser wouldn’t even charge him for the help. They walked down to the quarters where Cross could see smoke rising out of a large smith. As they neared he could see a large darkie working at the forge. Sweated ran off him as his powerful arms beat against a shoe on the anvil.
“Gabriel” shouted Prosser “come off of there.” The slave straightened. Cross could see that the blacksmith was a large man, a few inched over six feet. He stepped down from his work with an easy grace and walked over to the two whites. “Gabriel, this is Mr. Cross. His wagon has broken a wheel down at the bridge. I want you to send Solomon and Sam down and bring it back up. They best take the small wagon to speed it along. I will write out a pass for them, have them stop up at the house before they go. When they bring it back I want you to fix it up for Mr. Cross at once.” The large slave nodded but said nothing. Prosser didn’t seem to expect a reply as he turned to talk to cross once more. “My boy here is good and his brothers will have the wheel off and back here within the hour, till then can I invite you up to the house? I have a large fire laid on and we can talk.” Cross nodded and spoke “It would be a great pleasure sir. In fact I have interesting news from up near Littlepage. I think it would enlighten your day.”
Later at the house Prosser and Cross were settled in front of a modest fire. “You spoke of news from up at Littlepage?”
Cross took a drag on the small clay pipe he had lit. “Yes there was quite a ruckus there last week. It seems that a new man was hired at the Spotwood place and he tried to get the darkies to hoe the rows a little harder.” Cross stopped to chuckle. “The slaves didn’t take kindly to it. He even tried to end the Christmas break early. They wound up taking him and another man to the barn door. Tied each of them up and whipped them from neck to waist, then ran them out of the quarters.”
Prosser shook his head. “It’s a foolish master who doesn’t know his own people. It’s worse when they compound their folly by breaking tradition. You won’t find any of that here. I treat my people fair and they know their place.”
Cross continued “Took most of the men from the neighboring farms to get the damn fools out of the mess. Course had to turn the bucks around and teach them a lesson after.”*
Just then a quiet knock was heard on the door. Prosser look up to see his house negro. “Master Tom, Gabriel has finished with the wheel.” Prosser smiled. “You see there are some obedient servants. They know I treat them right.”
“To your health than sir.” Cross raised his glass. Prosser smiled, he decided not to bring up the matter of payment for the work. He would forget it. But far more importantly he would forget the undated pass he wrote as well.
August 28th 1800 – Brookfield Plantation
Gabriel looked and the other men stood around a small flame which gave just enough illumination in the night to cast faint shadows. But if the light did not excite the night, the mood of the men did. “We are ready than to move tonight. We can’t risk using the old pass another time, someone will get suspicious. If anyone gets caught it won’t take long for the masters to raise the militia.” The men all nodded.
“Then when we leave here we first deal with master Thomas. I don’t think it will be too hard eh? He isn’t half the man his father was**. I have finished the pikes and swords and the last of them are here. But if we do this there can be no turning back. I haven’t been all over Richmond and back to see liberty die here on this farm***. We have to kill him now and you all have to share the deed. After that there will be not running to the masters for mercy.”
“We do the deed then set off for Richmond. I will send runner to the Cicero down by the bridge. He will get word to the other quarters up and down Pammukey and Chickahomminy. **** We need to get over Brook Bridge before midnight. I want to be marking into Richmond by dawn.”
*Surprisingly this ‘story’ is patterned after an actual event in Virginia in the late 1769. Slaves frequently resisted new work rules or changes to their perceived ‘rights’. You can read the account of this in the Virginia Gazette (January 24th 1770).
** Thomas Prosser was 22 in 1800, he was considered a relatively cruel master
***Gabriel in our TL prior to August 1800 had traveled across the Tidewater, mainly having been lent out by his master, and during this time even earned some of his own money.
****Slave and free blacks who worked the rivers were apparently a vital part of the slave conspiracy, providing a way to communicate with plantations.