Chasing Freedom Read Online Free PDF Page A

hesitated and stepped back, terrified of leaving the ship, afraid of perishing in the wilderness, for the only signs of existence were several clusters of buildings and rows of houses in lines that cut across each other. The land was rough, covered in boulders, trees and underbrush. Tents and pole huts were pitched everywhere. “Uncivilized,” she heard someone say. Her fear amplified as she envisioned some great creature lurking within the steamy woods, ready to snatch her up.
    Sarah stood on the wharf, drowning in the persistent cheers and chatter. How the white Loyalists’ tongues wagged about starting life over and becoming prosperous. They spoke of their determination to create a great city to rival New York. Sarah listened and watched in dismay at all the commotion. The sight of the town paralyzed her — her expectations had been of greater things.
    A Roseway Associate, a plump man in a red coat, approached them with a long sheet of paper. She listened carefully as he welcomed them. He gave his name as Joseph Pyncheon, a founding father. He said that the people he called by name from his list were to go with him. He read only the names of the highest-ranking white officers, lieutenants, captains, colonels and sergeants. Sarah’s eyes followed as this group left with their families, slaves and indentured Negroes. They scattered about the new settlement and disappeared into the meagre dwellings of Port Roseway. Shortly after their departure, servants came and quickly unloaded the furniture and other household goods belonging to the first lot of settlers.
    Mr. Pyncheon returned and met separately with the remaining white Loyalists — disbanded soldiers, southern estate owners whose lands the Patriots had confiscated, tradesmen and adventurers. He informed these men that Port Roseway could not accommodate them until more lots were surveyed. He offered them lodging aboard the ships and sloops in the harbour and gave them permission to pitch tents on the Public Ground. The grumbling and cursing that followed became so out of hand that a band of Red Coats was called in. After assurances their wait would be short, that surveyors were hard at work and building materials were arriving daily, the settlers left to make arrangements.
    Mr. Pyncheon finally dealt with the remaining settlers—the free Negroes—ordering them to wait on the wharf and be patient. Sarah and the others sat in the welcome warmth of the blazing sun for most of the day, hungry and bewildered. The nearby streets sloping upward from the wharf were full of Negroes going about their business—women walking with white children, going in and out of shops and homes; men working on new structures, carrying lumber on their backs or piling supplies onto ox carts. The activity reminded her of the plantation.
    At last Mr. Pyncheon returned. He came with soldiers and barrels of water, boiled salt pork and bread. Sarah was grateful that she could finally stomach food. Pyncheon looked over the sorry lot with sharp blue eyes and a furrowed brow saying, “I regret that Governor Parr has not issued orders for your settlement. You’ll receive some relief until separate land is set aside. Until orders come, you can stay at the black quarters here in Port Roseway. Be mindful that any caught roaming, begging or stealing will be whipped … What is your company and who is your leader?” he asked a man standing nearby.
    Before that man could answer, a man in brown military dress stepped forward and said loudly, “Colonel Septimus Black at your service, Sir. A disbanded member of the South Carolina black Loyalist unit, the Black Pioneers, and the appointed leader of this company of Negroes.”
    Pyncheon frowned and asked, “Can you read and write?”
    â€œYes Sir.”
    â€œWell, well.” Pyncheon faced the crowd. “Any complaints or needs will be handled by your leader, Colonel Septimus Black.” He raised