Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 - Advanced)
Topic: Jump In With Both Feet (11/28/19)
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TITLE: Rumors | Previous Challenge Entry
By Arlene Baker
12/05/19 -
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Passengers flocked to the ship’s rail, jostling, shouting, praising God as they sought to get a first peek of their Promised Land. David George wrapped an arm around his wife. “De Lord be thanked. We done make it.”
“Not been easy, though,” Phillis said.
“No. But God done preserves most of us.”
The journey began on January 15, 1792, in Halifax, Nova Scotia. For the people on board the Lucretia, the journey truly began ten years earlier. In the American Colonies. Thousands of negro slaves had escaped to the British lines during the American Revolution. The Crown promised freedom to those willing to fight with the Redcoats.
As the war turned in favor of the Americans, those black Loyalists fled, along with their white counterparts, to British held territories. Most of the blacks had relocated to Nova Scotia.
After 10 years of broken promises and still waiting for their promised land allotments, one brave Nova Scotian (as they preferred to be called) sailed to England to lay out their complaints to King George III. Thomas Peters met with Granville Sharp, William Wilberforce, and many other influential men during his stay. He returned to Nova Scotia with the exiting news that those leaders had proposed to establish a colony established strictly for the black freedmen. They also offered to pay passage, supply the journey and supply the new venture.
Most of the black Loyalists accepted. More than 1,200 boarded the 15 ships sent by the Crown to sail to Sierra Leone, West Africa. The journey was harsh. Two sea captains perished along with over 60 Loyalists. Their leader, Lt. John Clarkson, came close to death himself.
After not detecting life for over 24 hours, Clarkson’s physician had declared him dead. The body had been brought to deck for burial at sea, which men stitched into a canvas shroud. The captain stepped forward to bless Clarkson’s soul and commit it to Almighty God. Moments before two seamen would push the body into the deep, another screamed,
“Stop! I saw movement! I swear I saw movement!”
Doctor Taylor had stepped forward and ordered the shroud opened. After pressing his ear to Clarkson’s chest, he nodded.
“He is indeed alive, but only by a hair.”
The joyous crew transported their lieutenant down to his cabin. By the time the flotilla sailed into the harbor where Freetown was to be built, he could be brought up to scan the seas and guide his ships again. Now, he found his friend, David George, and stood with him.
“This is your new home,” he said. “I often wondered if any of us would live to see it.”
“God be good, Honored Sir,” David said. “He takes care of his chillens.”
“Your faith always inspires me,” Clarkson said. “It is quite different than the rigid obedience of the Anglican Church.”
“We’s close to God cuz we needs God. We ain’t got de rituals and robes of de other churches. All we gots is God.”
“Your faith is powerful. And refreshing. I have grown to appreciate it very much.”
“As we ’preciates your kindness, suh.”
Later that day, the Loyalists marched across the shore of their new home, singing praises, shouting Hallelujahs, hugging and weeping.
“De Lord done brought us to our Promised Land.”
“He be faithful.”
“He keeps his promises.”
Ten days later, John Clarkson found David George helping others with felling trees and burning brush.
“Good morning, David. I see your men are working hard to clear the land.”
“Done got 80 acres finished. We’s ready to start building our temporary huts soon.”
“They have worked hard.”
“Cuz God gives us dis land and we’s grateful.”
“David.” The younger man took the Negro’s arm and drew him aside. “I need to talk to you for a few minutes.”
“Yes, suh.” The tall preacher walked beside the slender lieutenant. “What be happenin’?”
“Rumors. That is what is happening.”
“Rumors, suh?”
“Yes. As you know, several supply ships have arrived since we came.”
“Yes, suh.”
“They all carry the same rumors. The people in both Halifax and England believe our expedition failed and we were all lost at sea.”
“Dat not true, suh. We done well, considerin’.”
“Yes, but that will not stop rumors.” Clarkson paused. “I know a way that will.”
“What be dat, suh?”
“I’m sending all the ships back to Halifax. Tomorrow.”
“But, suh. Dat means …”
“Tomorrow.”
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I assume sending all the ships back meant they'd have no ships left for their own use?