[RedTerrano]

Prologue

He had been casually leaning against the gun mounted on the fo'castle for quite some time now. Being used to someone else make decisions on his behalf and ordering him what to do right from his birth, waiting came to him naturally. Though it was a full moon night, clouds infrequently cast ominous shadows all over the waterfront. A few of his mates were scattered over the ship, some below decks in the boiler room. All of them waited patiently, lost in their individual thoughts. Was it true? Was this really happening? What if Robert was wrong? Too late to think of that now. It was either this or savage retribution.

Robert continued with his nonchalant stance against the gun. He outwardly relaxed demeanour belied his heightened senses. He had avoided looking directly at any of the numerous lit lamps which dotted the ships as well as the wharf, and by now his night vision was honed to it's maximum. He could just about make out the rats scampering about in the darkness. His ears strained to catch the slightest of sounds. Belowdecks, they had fed the hungry furnace with generous amounts of cordwood till the gauge indicated a healthy head of steam. Its faint hissing and gurgling indicated everything was shipshape and primed for action. Satisfied, he then tuned his ears outward. Only the soft lapping of the waves against the ship's hull and and infrequent slight flutter of the canvas from the shipped moored some distance down the wharf indicated the all clear. No other discernible human sound disturbed the tranquility of the night.

Suddenly, at some distance, someone struck a match.
Finally!
With a satisfied grunt, he reciprocated by lighting up his pipe. The muffled patter of running feet and a human form materialised at the base of the gangway. Eager to board the ship, he was grinning ear to ear, eyes wide in excitement, when Robert barked a muffled command.
The mooring lines!
Of course!

As the figure scrambled to cast off the mooring lines from the bollard, Robert firmly thumped his foot on the wooden deck and the boiler came to life. The figure ran up the gangway, and as others came to help haul it up, Robert made his way to the wheel house. Wisps of smoke were spouting out of the chimney as he donned the captain's straw hat and coat which lay draped on a chair. One of his mates took the wheel as Robert swiftly gave orders. Grudgingly the huge paddlewheel came to life and the ship finally slunk into the night.

23 Years A Slave

Born on April 5 1839, Robert Smalls was rather surprised when his mother told him, just like her, he was also a slave. Till now his childhood had been rather happy. He was free to play in the woods, chase the animals round the yard and if she was in a good mood, Ms. Evie from the kitchen, would even give him a slice from one of her delicious pies.

Never knowing his real father (his mother never encouraged any questions on that subject), Robert sometimes used to wonder, if he was the progeny of her owner, Henry McKee, as Henry seemed to be singling him for special attention and favours. In fact his mother grew so disturbed by this, that she pleaded the child be taken to taken to work in the fields so he could witness whipping and other barbaric punishments first hand. This woke Robert up in a hurry, but not having to face any of it himself, and perhaps not knowing any other life, he thought of it as normal.

All slaves were required to wear a tag.

When Robert was 12, Henry McKee put him out to work as a labourer. All his youth was spent in manual labour, sometimes at the docks, sometimes at the hotel, sometimes even as a lamplighter. Of course, being a slave, Henry pocketed most of his earnings but Robert was content. Being born with an intelligent and curious mind, these opportunities provided him avenues to discover the two things which he would come to love the most.

Firstly, at the waterfront, he discovered his true passion for boats. Starting off as a longshoreman, over the years Robert worked his way up from a rigger, sailmaker and eventually became a boat pilot. Of course during those days it was impossible for a black man to be a pilot, so he was always addressed and treated as a helmsman.
Robert didn't care much.
He was content.

Secondly, while working at the hotel, he met Hannah Jones, a slave maid, and almost immediately fell in love with her. Gradually their romance blossomed and they eventually got married on December 24, 1856.
Robert and his wife were given special permission to set up their own house, a rarity in those days for slaves. The happy couple soon found a tiny cottage where the newly weds moved in with Hannah's two daughters from an earlier relationship. Soon Robert became the proud father of a daughter and some years later a son, who unfortunately passed away in two years.
Despite this, Robert's life was set.
His cup overfloweth with happiness.

But not for long.
In April 1861, his tranquil life was shattered by the sounds of cannon fire from the nearby Charleston docks.
The civil war had come calling.

Robert known for his sailing skills, was immediately pressed into service in the Confederate navy and put at the helm of CSS Planter. A side wheel steamer, she was originally built to cargo bales of cotton. Now she was swiftly retrofitted as a supply ship for ferrying munitions. She even got a medium sized gun on the foredeck to double up as a gunboat when required.
Under the command of Robert Smalls (the first black captain ever to command a ship in the US) she was charged with surveying waterways, laying mines and ferry dispatches, troops and supplies. Having spent most of his adult life on the river, Robert knew the waters like the back of his hand. This, combined with his excellent navigation skills meant he soon became an important asset to the Confederate side.

The CSS Planter

For the past few days Robert was a disturbed man. His wife had informed him a few days back, that her owner was planning to sell her. The war was on, times were tough and it was no longer profitable to maintain so many slaves. He reckoned, Hannah would fetch him $800, a handsome amount for those times.

Classified inn the newspaper about a slave auction

Since the day he had first set eyes on her, Robert had always dreamt, one day he would purchase his beloved Hannah's freedom. He had worked very hard till date and managed to put aside only $100. Sadly with his slave's income, it would take him decades to come up with amount required. And now, with the war at the doorstep, Robert had run out of time. That night he got into a furious discussion with Hannah. After much deliberation he managed to convince her, that escape was their only way out. Sure, there was a risk of getting captured and both of them knew what that meant. The retribution would be absolutely vicious and barbaric. But both of them decided it was worth the risk.

Robert reckoned, the river was their best bet. He knew the currents, the shoals, the tides intimately. The union ships were already running a blockade and lay a few miles downstream. All he needed was a ship to take them over. It was no easy matter though. Charleston was protected by an array of shore batteries and forts, all armed to their teeth. But knowing all the correct security signals, Robert was confident he could sail through.
Having sailed the Planter for years, she was an obvious choice. But a ship her size meant a crew. He certainly could not sail her alone. So he carefully selected seven of his fellow slaves and disclosed his audacious plan. After a few rounds of discussions, they nodded assent.
So the die was cast. Robert had a plan, a ship and a crew.
All he needed to do, was time it precisely. There would be no second chances.

Charleston Harbour Map indicating it's defences.

[RedTerrano]

The Great Escape

On May 12, 1862 the Planter returned to base, having picked up a cargo of four large guns, ammunition and cordwood. The last few days had been exhausting and everyone was glad to get a break. As was their habit, the three white officers on board instructed Robert to stay put to look after the ship and cargo, and promptly disembarked. It was strictly against protocol to leave any ship unattended without any white person in charge. But Robert knew they could not resist the tavern, and had banked they would succumb to temptation this time as well. He smartly saluted them off with a crisp "Aye aye Sir!"

Robert was now officially in charge. As soon as they were out of sight, he swiftly issued orders. Other slaves who were not part of his plan, were immediately dismissed. One of the conspirators was sent ashore to round up the women and children and encourage them to make haste. Time was of the essence now.
Reckoning they would make up too conspicuous a crowd here, Robert had instructed them to assemble at a another wharf upstream. There, away from the warships and gunboats, their presence in case they were spotted, would not arouse much suspicion. He trusted Hannah to come up with some convincing reason to keep them out of trouble.

Typical wharfs at Charleston

With the conspirator gone, everyone settled down quitely on the boat to await his return. Robert leaned himself on the foredeck gun, outwardly appearing relaxed, but with eyes and ears peeled.

Finally the runner returned. On receiving the light match signal for all clear from Robert he rushed to the ship and they set sail around 3 AM. First they steamed to the northern wharf and picked up their wives and children. Ordering all of them below decks. Robert then pointed the ship downstream and set sail. The moon provided enough illumination for him to make out the different markers in the channel and Robert navigated the waters precisely.

Soon enough they came upon the two defensive shore batteries on the starboard side. Robert had already donned the captain's coat and hat. Now assumed the pose of Captain Relyea, the original master of the ship, who had a peculiar way of standing at the wheel house, with his left hand on the railing and the right on his hip. Having observed him numerous times Robert mimicked him perfectly. But would it be enough? Soon they would find out.
The wheel house had a lantern hanging at the back so as not to spoil the wheelman's night vision. Robert stood in such a way that his silhouette was clearly visible against it for anyone standing on the shore. The Planter crawled a few knots ahead and came abreast to the batteries. Suddenly a whistle pierced the silence. Immediately Robert answered with the ship's whistle. One long, two short, a pause and another short. Everyone held their collective breaths. After a moment, a whistle from the shore indicated the go ahead and Robert heaved a sigh of immense relief. The paddlewheel continued to churn the water, pushing the ship ahead and soon they were past the batteries.

The wheelman exchanged a grin with Robert and suggested they increase speed. A ship, sailing at full steam in the dead of the night was sure to attract attention. He dared not risk doing anything out of the ordinary. Robert fighting against the natural instinct to flee, firmly refused and ordered to maintain normal speed. As they entered the prescribed navigation lane, Robert was quite aware that the shore batteries were small fry compared to what lay ahead. Soon they approached Fort Ripley, which lay to their port in the middle of the channel. It had five times more cannons as compared to the batteries. Would they be lucky a second time? Time would tell.

Slowly they moved ahead. Robert had moved on to the port side, to stand between the lamp and shore. Like before, a whistle challenged their approach and the Planter reciprocated with the correct reply. Almost immediately, they heard the go ahead from shore. Again Robert and the wheelman grinned at each other in jubilation. Things were looking good indeed. Two down, one to go.

As they plodded ahead, Robert steered the boat to the center of the channel. Fort Sumter would come up on his starboard side. Sitting right at the mouth of the bay, it was the first line of defence and thus armed to it's teeth. Besides heavy cannon, it's defences were also supplemented by fast moving gunboats. The Planter with it's side wheel would be no match against it. Robert knew, given their location, the troops as well as the Commander at Fort Sumter were always on the high alert and primed for action. More worryingly, their route would bring them very very close to the Fort as they passed it. The tension in the wheelhouse was palpable. The wheelman was visibly sweating and jittery. Robert barked an order for him to stay focused. They could not even the slightest mistake now.

As they chugged ahead, Robert spotted the Fort lights. He could hear the side wheel happily churning the waters, slowly but surely pushing the Planter toward's its destiny. Just a few boat lengths now. Looking straight ahead, Robert could feel multiple eyes from the fort scrutinising him as well as the ship as they drew abreast of the fort. Would they present a familiar site? Or was there something amiss to arouse suspicion. They would soon find out.

As always a whistle from the fort challenged their approach. After a pause, the Planter replied in kind. And then nothing. Absolutely nothing. Robert grew very tense. Had they done anything to rouse suspicion? Had their escape been discovered? With tremdenous effort Robert fought the temptation to turn his head and continued to stare ahead. What was happening? Were the aiming the cannons? Readying the gun boats? Ears strained Robert could hear his heart thumping in the chest.
And after a few more moments, they heard the go ahead whistle from the fort. Finally! Robert let out a huge sigh of satisfaction as his shoulders slumped in relief. As they steamed ahead, he turned back to the wheelman and winked. Soon both of them were grinning from ear to ear.
They had made it.
They were out of the confederate held territory now!!

Escape route of the CSS Planter

A few more minutes and they were out of gun range as well as eyesight, of Fort Sumter. Robert took the wheel and dispatched the wheelman below decks. They had successfully completed phase one of his plan. For phase two he needed the women and children to be come topside. Soon the deck was awash with a jubilant crowd. Hannah made her way to the wheel house and hugged her husband, as tears streamed down their eyes. They held each other very very tight till Robert whispered something in her ear. She nodded her head and stepped out on the deck.

Fort Sumter today

Her meagre belongings were tied in a cloth bundle. From that, she took out a snow white bed sheet which she had appropriated from the McKee household. Naturally, the CSS Planter flew the confederate flag. This was taken down and replaced by the bed sheet.

Robert issued orders to pile on steam and the Planter raced towards the mouth of the harbour, where he knew the Union Navy ships were blockading it. Visibility was dangerously low. The moon had set and there was just a hint of pink in the east. Robert fervently prayed his white flag was visible. It would be ironic if they were shot down after coming this far. He stood in the wheelhouse eyes trying to pierce the gloom. All the available crew, women and children were ordered to the bow and instructed to scream, holler, wave their arms and do anything and everything possible to attract attention in case they spotted a ship flying the Union colors. The Planter raced ahead into the dawn, her side wheel furiously churning the waters, red hot embers escaping her spout along with thick coils of smoke.

[RedTerrano]

Freedom!

The USS Onward was anchored in position at the mouth of the harbour. Captain John Frederick Nickels ran a tight ship and the crew were always on alert at their posts. The ship lamps were shielded and all eyes were peeled out on the waters. Dead silence enveloped the ship. Though it was not sufficiently light, the crew knew their shift would soon end. The birds on shore had signalled the daybreak even before the eastern horizon started to change color.

Suddenly the silence was pierced by the ships bell, triggering a flurry of activity on board. The guns were already primed and ready for action. An enemy ship had been spotted. Commands were shouted and the crew scrambled to elevate the No.3 port gun.
Just before they could could fire, the lookout from the crow's nest high above shouted a warning. He had spotted something which looked like a white flag. The deckhands rushed to the railings while someone went and woke up the captain.

As Captain Nickels stepped on deck, he was met with a jaw dropping sight. A ship flying a white flag was steaming right towards them. Spotting the women and children on deck, who by now were waving their arms and grinning ear to ear, he ordered the gun crew to stand down. Soon the ship drew abreast and came to a halt. An all black crew lined up and stood smartly. All the women and children lined op on the other side, some kids shyly hiding behind their mothers skirts
Then a black man in a captains coat stepped out of the wheelhouse, and spotting Captain Nickels, saluted him. Taking off his hat and shouted "Good morning, sir! I've brought you some of the old United States guns, sir"

By now the Onward crew had tied both ships together. Still not believing his eyes, Captain Nickels stepped on board the Planter, where Robert formally surrendered his ship, cargo and all personnel over to the Union Navy.

He had done it.
With his audacity, daring and intellect, he had won his freedom.
For himself, his beloved Hannah, their children and seven more families.

Captain Robert Smalls


Robert makes the news

[RedTerrano]

Epilogue

Robert's daring escape would prove to be a huge boon to the Union Army. He had brought the Planter which was soon pressed into service. The now USS Planter was put under the able command of Captain Robert whose detailed knowledge of the waters as well as the defences was of immense value. Not only that, the Union Navy was now bolstered with all the guns and ammunition abroad the Planter. Perhaps the most valuable was the Captains codebook, nautical charts indicating the mine and torpedo positions of the harbour defence.

Floating mine


Torpedos

Armed with all this, within 10 days of Robert's escape, the Unionists ran over the harbour. The confederates were booted out and the Charleston flew the Union flag till the end of the war. Robert was involved hands on in these operations and even took part in future skirmishes.

"Robert, the intelligent slave and pilot of the boat, who performed this bold feat so skilfully, informed me of [the capture of the Sumter gun], presuming it would be a matter of interest. He is superior to any who have come into our lines — intelligent as many of them have been" wrote flag office Du Pont in one of his cables to Washington.

Going ahead, Robert would be hugely instrumental in convincing Abraham Lincoln, to accept blacks in the Union Army.

After the war, Robert would work as a teacher and a businessmen. After the 14th amendment was passed, which gave blacks full citizenship to blacks, Robert contested and became a Congressman.

Congressman Robert Smalls

After living a fulfilling life, he died of diabetes and malaria on February 23, 1915 at the age of 75.
He was buried next to his beloved Hannah at his family's plot in the churchyard of the Tabernacle Baptist Church in downtown Beaufort

Robert Smalls lifework can be best summarised in his own words, which are engraved on his monument.

Robert Smalls Monument Plaque

Robert might have been born "Smalls" but truly he was a Giant among men.

[Aditya]

Thread moved out from the Assembly Line. Thanks for sharing!

[dailydriver]

Interesting read.

More so because of the book I am currently in the middle of - Twelve Years A Slave.

Stories like these must be made part of school curriculum. Else, whatever history has taught us will be lost on our younger generation.

[vamsi.kona]

Great Read. While we may understand to some extent the pain and hardships these people underwent every day, it quite unimaginable for me to just think what would be like to live such a life.

These lessons need to be part of what we teach our children, with care being taken that we don't demonise the current generation for the sins of their forefathers.

[AZT]

Originally Posted by RedTerrano

Robert might have been born "Smalls" but truly he was a Giant among men.

The below inscription on his grave gave me goosebumps. I'd also suggest you look up James Baldwin, has written some great work about this.

My race needs no special defense, for the past history of them in this country proves them to be the equal of any people anywhere. All they need is an equal chance in the battle of life.
- Robert Smalls
Nov 1, 1895