Edward Howes, 1849

[Prior to and during the Civil War, the existence of an “underground railroad” and movement of black slaves from the south to safe houses on Cape Cod, and then onto fishing vessels headed to Canada, is well known; but actual documentation of this, an illegal activity at the time, is hard to find.  Most information comes by way of handed-down stories, family journals and letters.   

It is one of these journal stories that we share with you, for it also tells of a group of little men who helped one night when the movement of a black family was about to be found out…]

5, August, 1849

“We waited till dark, and then hurried the four out of the cellar and onto the hay wagon.  The invoice noted the hay to be delivered to a Provincetown ice house.  Our wagon was joined by two others and we made our way along King’s Highway, anxious about the bright moon.  Night deliveries like ours were not common, and since the uprising in Harwich the year before, there were those who were now much more incensed over the activity of moving slaves.  There was a common thread among these types and their thinking and that was to mind their own business and let the Southerner’s mind theirs as well.  They were not comfortable with the thought of interference and the consequences it might bring to the region."

  

"We made it past the three lights and were nearing Fresh Brook Village when a wagon, set in the brush just off the road beyond us, pulled its team right onto the highway, blocking our progress.  We pulled off to the side as six men came out of the thickets.  One approached my wagon.  I moved my rifle under the seat and out of view.  The man claimed to be a constable, checking on movement of goods to avoid taxing.  I showed him the invoice for the hay carried by our wagons."

"He looked at the document for several minutes, laughed and then said that hay was a great way to hide the wares of any store, and motioned for the others to come and search the wagons.  I was sure we were about to be discovered, when the horses suddenly became very agitated, including those of their wagon.  As I tried to steady my team, a sight hard to believe:  several very small men ran by us at great speed slapping the horses of these night highwaymen, causing them to bolt down the road.  The constable was suddenly no longer interested in our hay, and ran by us chasing the wagon, yelling back and forth to one another.  'Did you see them?! It’s them!  It’s them!  We should never posted guard here at night!'"

"The drivers of our other wagons never saw the little men; yet, since that night I have found that there are legends about such little people living in the towns of Eastham and Wellfleet.  I cannot prove this is the case.  I know only what I saw tonight."

Cyrus Cole (1883) continued...

[Cyrus Cole looked at me to see if he could detect my belief or what I was thinking.  He then continued his story of Mayo and the British ship, Spencer.  His nervousness perplexed me, the blockade being some sixty and more years hence.]

  

"I hear tell that after the crew went below, Mayo gathered up their weapons, went overboard, and walked the flats into town.  He informed the militia of the stranded boat and she was easily captured."

"The militia was comprised of local farmers and fishermen, so it took some time for them to gather after Mayo inform town fathers of the boat.  One young lad, Ebenezer Freeman (1), followed the armed men as they headed toward the beach.  Now according to his story, he watched from the bluff as the group surrounded the stricken vessel.  No shots were fired as none were needed.  Soon the militia had the captured crew marching back to shore.  

[Cyrus seemed to know great detail about the militia’s actions that day, leading me to believe that he may in fact be the youngster mentioned.  If so, he would have been just 8 years old at the time.]

"The tide was soon to come, but the youngster, wanting a better look at the now empty vessel like some of the other onlookers, headed out onto the flats.  He was about three hundred yards offshore, when he was surprised and shaken to the depths of his soul as six very small men ran past him at great speed.  They were onto the vessel in but a second, and then they were gone.

The boy ran back to the beach, hollering to a group of men who were also headed out for a better look. 

[Cyrus grew increasingly agitated at this point of his tale.  His voice cracked and his point of view suddenly shifted to the present tense as if we were on that very beach, the Spencer resting on the flats beyond.]

“Did you see them?!  Did you see them?!”   

“See what, boy?” one of the men asked.

“Those little men!  They ran like the wind!”

The men laughed.  “Boy we’ve been here just like you.  There were no little men.  You been at your old man’s rum?”

“No sir, I swear it.”

[Cyrus stopped his now theatrical narration.  He was shaking and sweat dripped from his brow.  He quickly looked out the window to avoid my stare.]

“Hard to believe isn’t it, Doc?  Well, that’s what the boy told me he saw.  That’s what he told me."

[I made another appointment for Cyrus for September 8th.]

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(1) We could find no record of such a boy.