have his letters till the self-elected inspectors had had the reading of
them, and studied into their secret meaning. They, therefore, got
together, wiped their glasses, and got them on, and proceeded to a
careful perusal of this mysterious document. What it meant, they could
not imagine; William Henry Jackson had no parents or brothers, and the
letter was incomprehensible. White genius having exhausted itself, black
genius was called in, and Jacob's letter was at last handed to him.
Jacob saw at once what it meant, but tossed it down, saying, "Dat letter
can't be meant for me, no how. I can't make head nor tail of it," and
walked off and took immediate measures to let Harriet's brothers know
secretly that she was coming, and they must be ready to start at a
moment's notice for the North. When Harriet arrived there, it was the
day before Christmas, and she found her three brothers, who had
attempted to escape, were advertised to be sold on Christmas day to the
highest bidder, to go down to the cotton and rice fields with the
chain-gang. Christmas came on Sunday, and therefore they were not to be
sold till Monday. Harriet arrived on Saturday, and gave them secret
notice to be ready to start Saturday night, immediately after dark, the
first stopping-place to be their father's cabin, forty miles away. When
they assembled, their brother John was missing; but when Harriet was
ready, the word was "Forward!" and she "nebber waited for no one." Poor
John was almost ready to start, when his wife was taken ill, and in an
hour or two, another little inheritor of the blessings of slavery had
come into the world. John must go off for a "Granny," and then he would
not leave his wife in her present circumstances. But after the birth of
the child, he began to think he must start; the North and Liberty, or
the South and life-long Slavery--these were the alternatives, and this
was his last chance. He tried again and again to steal out of the door,
but a watchful eye was on him, and he was always arrested by the
question, "Where you gwine, John?" At length he told her he was going to
try to see if he couldn't get hired out on Christmas to another man. His
wife did not think that he was to be sold. He went out of the door, and
stood by the corner of the house, near her bed, listening. At length, he
heard her sobbing and crying, and not being able to endure it, he went
back. "Oh! John," said his wife, "you's gwine to lebe me; but, wherebber
you go, remember me an' de chillen." John went out and started at full
speed for his father's cabin, forty miles away. At daybreak, he overtook
the others in the "fodder house," near the cabin of their parents.
Harriet had not seen her mother there for six years, but they did not
dare to let the old woman know of their being in her neighborhood, or of
their intentions, for she would have raised such an uproar in her
efforts to detain them with her, that the whole plantation would have
been alarmed. The poor old woman had been expecting the boys all day, to
spend Christmas with her as usual. She had been hard at work, had killed
a pig, and put it to all the various uses to which sinner's flesh is
doomed, and had made all the preparations her circumstances admitted of,
to give them a sumptuous entertainment, and there she sat watching. In
the night, when Harriet and two of her brothers and two other men, who
had escaped with them, arrived at the "fodder house," they were
exhausted and famished. They sent the two strange men up to the house to
try and speak to "Old Ben," their father, but not to let their mother
know of their being in the neighborhood. The men succeeded in rousing
old Ben, who came out, and as soon as he heard their story, he gathered
together a quantity of provisions, and came down to the fodder house,
and slipped them inside the door, taking care not to _see_ his
children. Up among the ears of corn they lay, and one of them he had
not seen for six years. It rained very hard all that Sunday, and there
they lay all day, for they could not start till night. At about
daybreak, John joined them. There were wide chinks in the boards of the
fodder house, and through them they could see their father's cabin; and
all day long, every few minutes, they would see the old woman come out,
and, shading her eyes with her hand, take a long look down the road to
see if her children were coming, and then they could almost hear her
sigh as she turned into the house, disappointed.
Two or three times the old man came down, and pushed food inside the
door, and after nightfall he came to accompany them part of the way upon
their journey. When he reached the fodder house, he tied his
handkerchief tight over his eyes, and two of his sons taking him by each
arm, he accompanied them some miles upon their journey. They then bade
him farewell, and left him standing blind-fold in the middle of the
road. When he could no longer hear their footsteps, he took off the
handkerchief, and turned back.
But before leaving, they had gone up to the cabin to take a silent
farewell of the poor old mother. Through the little window of the cabin,
they saw the old woman sitting by her fire with a pipe in her mouth, her
head on her hand, rocking back and forth as she did when she was in
trouble, and wondering what new evil had come to her children. With
streaming eyes, they watched her for ten or fifteen minutes; but time
was precious, and they must reach their next station before daybreak,
and so they turned sadly away.
When the holidays were over, and the men came for the three brothers to
sell them, they could not be found. The first place to search was of
course the plantation where all their relatives and friends lived. They
went to the "big house," and asked the "Doctor" if he had seen anything
of them. The Doctor said, "No, they mostly came up there to see the
other niggers when they came for Christmas," but they hadn't been round
at all. "Have you been down to Old Ben's?" the Doctor asked. "Yes."
"What does Old Rit say?" "Old Rit says not one of 'em came this
Christmas. She was looking for 'em most all day, and most broke her
heart about it." "What does Old Ben say?" "Old Ben says that he hasn't
seen one of his children this Christmas." "Well, if Old Ben says that,
they haven't been round." And so the man-hunters went off disappointed.
One of the other brothers, William Henry, had long been attached to a
girl named Catherine, who lived with another master; but her master
would not let her marry him. When William Henry made up his mind to
start with Harriet, he determined to bring Catherine with him. And so he
went to a tailor's, and bought a new suit of men's clothes, and threw
them over the garden fence of Catherine's master. The garden ran down to
a run, and Catherine had been notified where to find the clothes. When
the time had come to get ready, Catherine went to the foot of the garden
and dressed herself in the suit of men's clothes. She was soon missed,
and all the girls in the house were set to looking for Catherine.
Presently they saw coming up through the garden, as if from the river, a
well-dressed little darkey, and they all stopped looking for Catherine
to stare at him. He walked directly by them round the house, and went
out of the gate, without the slightest suspicion being excited as to who
he was. In a fortnight from that time, the whole party were safe in
Canada.
William Henry died in Canada, but Catherine has been seen and talked
with by the writer, at the house of the old people.
Of the many letters, testimonials, and passes, placed in the hands of
the writer by Harriet, the following are selected for insertion in this
book, and are quite sufficient to verify her statements.
_A Letter from Gen. Saxton to a Lady of Auburn._
ATLANTA, GA., March 21, 1868.
MY DEAR MADAME: I have just received your letter informing me that
Hon. Wm. H. Seward, Secretary of State, would present a petition to
Congress for a pension to Harriet Tubman, for services rendered in
the Union Army during the late war. I can bear witness to the value
of her services in South Carolina and Florida. She was employed in
the hospitals and as a spy. She made many a raid inside the enemy's
lines, displaying remarkable courage, zeal, and fidelity. She was
employed by General Hunter, and I think by Generals Stevens and
Sherman, and is as deserving of a pension from the Government for
her services as any other of its faithful servants.
I am very truly yours,
RUFUS SAXTON, Bvt. Brig.-Gen. U. S. A.
_Letter from Hon. Wm. H. Seward._
WASHINGTON, July 25, 1868.
MAJ.-GEN. HUNTER--
MY DEAR SIR: Harriet Tubman, a colored woman, has been nursing our
soldiers during nearly all the war. She believes she has a claim
for faithful services to the command in South Carolina with which
you are connected, and she thinks that you would be disposed to see
her claim justly settled.
I have known her long, and a nobler, higher spirit, or a truer,
seldom dwells in the human form. I commend her, therefore, to your
kind and best attentions.
Faithfully your friend,
WILLIAM H. SEWARD.
_Letter from Col. James Montgomery._
ST. HELENA ISLAND, S. C., July 6, 1863.
HEADQUARTERS COLORED BRIGADE.
BRIG.-GEN. GILMAN, Commanding Department of the South--
GENERAL: I wish to commend to your attention, Mrs. Harriet Tubman,
a most remarkable woman, and invaluable as a scout. I have been
acquainted with her character and actions for several years.
Walter D. Plowden is a man of tried courage, and can be made
highly useful.
I am, General, your most ob't servant,
JAMES MONTGOMERY, Col. Com. Brigade.
_Letter from Mrs. Gen. A. Baird._
PETERBORO, Nov. 24, 1864.
The bearer of this, Harriet Tubman, a most excellent woman, who has
rendered faithful and good services to our Union army, not only in
the hospital, but in various capacities, having been employed under
Government at Hilton Head, and in Florida; and I commend her to the
protection of all officers in whose department she may happen to
be.
She has been known and esteemed for years by the family of my
uncle, Hon. Gerrit Smith, as a person of great rectitude and
capabilities.
MRS. GEN. A. BAIRD.
_Letter from Hon. Gerrit Smith._
PETERBORO, N. Y., Nov. 4, 1867.
I have known Mrs. Harriet Tubman for many years. Seldom, if ever,
have I met with a person more philanthropic, more self-denying,
and of more bravery. Nor must I omit to say that she combines with
her sublime spirit, remarkable discernment and judgment.
During the late war, Mrs. Tubman was eminently faithful and useful
to the cause of our country. She is poor and has poor parents. Such
a servant of the country should be well paid by the country. I hope
that the Government will look into her case.
GERRIT SMITH.
_Testimonial from Gerrit Smith._
PETERBORO, Nov. 22, 1864.
The bearer, Harriet Tubman, needs not any recommendation. Nearly
all the nation over, she has been heard of for her wisdom,
integrity, patriotism, and bravery. The cause of freedom owes her
much. The country owes her much.
I have known Harriet for many years, and I hold her in my high
esteem.
GERRIT SMITH.
_Certificate from Henry K. Durrant, Acting Asst. Surgeon, U. S. A._
I certify that I have been acquainted with Harriet Tubman for
nearly two years; and my position as Medical Officer in charge of
"contrabands" in this town and in hospital, has given me frequent
and ample opportunities to observe her general deportment;
particularly her kindness and attention to the sick and suffering
of her own race. I take much pleasure in testifying to the esteem
in which she is generally held.
HENRY K. DURRANT,
Acting Assistant Surgeon, U. S. A.
In charge "Contraband" Hospital.
Dated at Beaufort, S. C., the 3d day of May, 1864.
I concur fully in the above.
R. SAXTON, Brig.-Gen. Vol.
The following are a few of the passes used by Harriet throughout the
war. Many others are so defaced that it is impossible to decipher them.
HEADQUARTERS DEPARTMENT OF THE SOUTH, HILTON HEAD, PORT ROYAL,
S. C., Feb. 19, 1863.
Pass the bearer, Harriet Tubman, to Beaufort and back to this
place, and wherever she wishes to go; and give her free passage at
all times, on all Government transports. Harriet was sent to me
from Boston by Gov. Andrew of Mass., and is a valuable woman. She
has permission, as a servant of the Government, to purchase such
provisions from the Commissary as she may need.
D. HUNTER, Maj.-Gen. Com.
General Gillman, who succeeded General Hunter in command of the
Department of the South, appends his signature to the same pass.
HEADQUARTERS OF THE DEPARTMENT OF THE SOUTH, July 1, 1863.
Continued in force.
I. A. GILLMAN, Brig.-Gen. Com.
BEAUFORT, Aug. 28, 1862.
Will Capt. Warfield please let "Moses" have a little Bourbon
whiskey for medicinal purposes.
HENRY K. DURRANT, Act. Ass. Surgeon.
WAR DEPARTMENT, WASHINGTON, D. C.,
March 20, 1865.
Pass Mrs. Harriet Tubman (colored) to Hilton Head and Charleston,
S. C., with free transportation on a Government transport.
By order of the Sec. of War.
LOUIS H., Asst. Adj.-Gen., U. S. A.
To Bvt. Brig.-Gen. Van Vliet, U. S. Q. M., N. Y.
Not transferable.
WAR DEPARTMENT, WASHINGTON, D. C.,
July 22, 1865.
Permit Harriet Tubman to proceed to Fortress Monroe, Va., on a
Government transport. Transportation will be furnished free of
cost.
By order of the Secretary of War.
L. H., Asst. Adj.-Gen.
Not transferable.
_Appointment as Nurse._
SIR:--I have the honor to inform you that the Medical Director
Department of Virginia has been instructed to appoint Harriet
Tubman nurse or matron at the Colored Hospital, Fort Monroe, Va.
Very respectfully, your obdt. servant,
V. K. BARNES, Surgeon-General.
HON. WM. H. SEWARD,
Secretary of State, Washington, D. C.
_Names of Harriet's Assistants, Scouts, or Pilots._
Scouts who are residents of Beaufort, and well acquainted with the
main land: Peter Barns, Mott Blake, Sandy Selters, Solomon Gregory,
Isaac Hayward, Gabriel Cohen, George Chrisholm.
Pilots who know the channels of the rivers in this vicinity, and
who acted as such for Col. Montgomery up the Combahee River:
Charles Simmons, Samuel Hayward.
App'd, R. SAXTON, Brig.-Gen.
At this point the following good and kind letter from Rev. Henry Fowler
is received:
AUBURN, June 23, 1868.
MY DEAR FRIEND:--I wish to say to you how gratified I am that you
are writing the biography of Harriet Tubman. I feel that her life
forms part of the history of the country, and that it ought not to
depend upon tradition to keep it in remembrance. Had not the
pressure of professional claims prevented, I should have aspired to
be her historian myself; but my disappointment in this regard is
more than met by the satisfaction experienced in hearing that you
are the chosen Miriam of this African "Moses;" the name by which
she was known among her emancipated followers from the land of
bondage. Blessed be God! a "Greater than Moses" has at last broken
every bond.
As ever, with warm regard, your friend,
HENRY FOWLER.
The following account of the subject of this memoir is cut from the
_Boston Commonwealth_ of 1863, kindly sent the writer by Mr. Sanborn:
"It was said long ago that the true romance of America was not in the
fortunes of the Indian, where Cooper sought it, nor in the New England
character, where Judd found it, nor in the social contrasts of Virginia
planters, as Thackeray imagined, but in the story of the fugitive
slaves. The observation is as true now as it was before war, with swift,
gigantic hand, sketched the vast shadows, and dashed in the high lights
in which romance loves to lurk and flash forth. But the stage is
enlarged on which these dramas are played, the whole world now sit as
spectators, and the desperation or the magnanimity of a poor black woman
has power to shake the nation that so long was deaf to her cries. We
write of one of these heroines, of whom our slave annals are full,--a
woman whose career is as extraordinary as the most famous of her sex can
show.
"Araminta Ross, now known by her married name of Tubman, with her
sounding Christian name changed to Harriet, is the grand-daughter of a
slave imported from Africa, and has not a drop of white blood in her
veins. Her parents were Benjamin Ross and Harriet Greene, both slaves,
but married and faithful to each other. They still live in old age and
poverty, but free, on a little property at Auburn, N. Y., which their
daughter purchased for them from Mr. Seward, the Secretary of State. She
was born, as near as she can remember, in 1820 or in 1821, in Dorchester
County, on the Eastern shore of Maryland, and not far from the town of
Cambridge. She had ten brothers and sisters, of whom three are now
living, all at the North, and all rescued from slavery by Harriet,
before the War. She went back just as the South was preparing to secede,
to bring away a fourth, but before she could reach her, she was dead.
Three years before, she had brought away her old father and mother, at
great risk to herself.
"When Harriet was six years old, she was taken from her mother and
carried ten miles to live with James Cook, whose wife was a weaver, to
learn the trade of weaving. While still a mere child, Cook set her to
watching his musk-rat traps, which compelled her to wade through the
water. It happened that she was once sent when she was ill with the
measles, and, taking cold from wading in the water in this condition,
she grew very sick, and her mother persuaded her master to take her
away from Cook's until she could get well.
"Another attempt was made to teach her weaving, but she would not learn,
for she hated her mistress, and did not want to live at home, as she
would have done as a weaver, for it was the custom then to weave the
cloth for the family, or a part of it, in the house.
"Soon after she entered her teens she was hired out as a field hand, and
it was while thus employed that she received a wound which nearly proved
fatal, from the effects of which she still suffers. In the fall of the
year, the slaves there work in the evening, cleaning up wheat, husking
corn, etc. On this occasion, one of the slaves of a farmer named
Barrett, left his work, and went to the village store in the evening.
The overseer followed him, and so did Harriet. When the slave was found,
the overseer swore he should be whipped, and called on Harriet, among
others, to help tie him. She refused, and as the man ran away, she
placed herself in the door to stop pursuit. The overseer caught up a
two-pound weight from the counter and threw it at the fugitive, but it
fell short and struck Harriet a stunning blow on the head. It was long
before she recovered from this, and it has left her subject to a sort
of stupor or lethargy at times; coming upon her in the midst of
conversation, or whatever she may be doing, and throwing her into a deep
slumber, from which she will presently rouse herself, and go on with her
conversation or work.
"After this she lived for five or six years with John Stewart, where at
first she worked in the house, but afterwards 'hired her time,' and Dr.
Thompson, son of her master's guardian, 'stood for her,' that is, was
her surety for the payment of what she owed. She employed the time thus
hired in the rudest labors,--drove oxen, carted, plowed, and did all the
work of a man,--sometimes earning money enough in a year, beyond what
she paid her master, 'to buy a pair of steers,' worth forty dollars. The
amount exacted of a woman for her time was fifty or sixty dollars--of a
man, one hundred to one hundred and fifty dollars. Frequently Harriet
worked for her father, who was a timber inspector, and superintended the
cutting and hauling of great quantities of timber for the Baltimore
ship-yards. Stewart, his temporary master, was a builder, and for the
work of Ross used to receive as much as five dollars a day sometimes, he
being a superior workman. While engaged with her father, she would cut
wood, haul logs, etc. Her usual 'stint' was half a cord of wood in a
day.
"Harriet was married somewhere about 1844, to a free colored man named
John Tubman, but she had no children. For the last two years of slavery
she lived with Dr. Thompson, before mentioned, her own master not being
yet of age, and Dr. T.'s father being his guardian, as well as the owner
of her own father. In 1849 the young man died, and the slaves were to be
sold, though previously set free by an old will. Harriet resolved not to
be sold, and so, with no knowledge of the North--having only heard of
Pennsylvania and New Jersey--she walked away one night alone. She found
a friend in a white lady, who knew her story and helped her on her way.
After many adventures, she reached Philadelphia, where she found work
and earned a small stock of money. With this money in her purse, she
traveled back to Maryland for her husband, but she found him married to
another woman, and no longer caring to live with her. This, however, was
not until two years after her escape, for she does not seem to have
reached her old home in her first two expeditions. In December, 1850,
she had visited Baltimore and brought away her sister and two children,
who had come up from Cambridge in a boat, under charge of her sister's
husband, a free black. A few months after she had brought away her
brother and two other men, but it was not till the fall of 1851 that she
found her husband and learned of his infidelity. She did not give way to
rage or grief, but collected a party of fugitives and brought them
safely to Philadelphia. In December of the same year, she returned, and
led out a party of eleven, among them her brother and his wife. With
these she journeyed to Canada, and there spent the winter, for this was
after the enforcement of Mason's Fugitive Slave Bill in Philadelphia and
Boston, and there was no safety except 'under the paw of the British
Lion,' as she quaintly said. But the first winter was terribly severe
for these poor runaways. They earned their bread by chopping wood in the
snows of a Canadian forest; they were frost-bitten, hungry, and naked.
Harriet was their good angel. She kept house for her brother, and the
poor creatures boarded with her. She worked for them, begged for them,
prayed for them, with the strange familiarity of communion with God
which seems natural to these people, and carried them by the help of God
through the hard winter.
"In the Spring she returned to the States, and as usual earned money by
working in hotels and families as a cook. From Cape May, in the fall of
1852, she went back once more to Maryland, and brought away nine more
fugitives.
"Up to this time she had expended chiefly her own money in these
expeditions--money which she had earned by hard work in the drudgery of
the kitchen. Never did any one more exactly fulfill the sense of George
Herbert--
"A servant with this clause
Makes drudgery divine."
"But it was not possible for such virtues long to remain hidden from the
keen eyes of the Abolitionists. She became known to Thomas Garrett, the
large-hearted Quaker of Wilmington, who has aided the escape of three
thousand fugitives; she found warm friends in Philadelphia and New York,
and wherever she went. These gave her money, which she never spent for
her own use, but laid up for the help of her people, and especially for
her journeys back to the 'land of Egypt,' as she called her old home. By
reason of her frequent visits there, always carrying away some of the
oppressed, she got among her people the name of 'Moses,' which it seems
she still retains.
"Between 1852 and 1857, she made but two of these journeys, in
consequence partly of the increased vigilance of the slaveholders, who
had suffered so much by the loss of their property. A great reward was
offered for her capture, and she several times was on the point of being
taken, but always escaped by her quick wit, or by 'warnings' from
Heaven--for it is time to notice one singular trait in her character.
She is the most shrewd and practical person in the world, yet she is a
firm believer in omens, dreams, and warnings. She declares that before
her escape from slavery, she used to dream of flying over fields and
towns, and rivers and mountains, looking down upon them 'like a bird,'
and reaching at last a great fence, or sometimes a river, over which she
would try to fly, 'but it 'peared like I wouldn't hab de strength, and
jes as I was sinkin' down, dare would be ladies all drest in white ober
dere, and dey would put out dere arms and pull me 'cross.' There is
nothing strange in this, perhaps, but she declares that when she came
North she remembered these very places as those she had seen in her
dreams, and many of the ladies who befriended her were those she had
been helped by in her visions.
"Then she says she always knows when there is danger near her,--she
does not know how, exactly, but ''pears like my heart go flutter,
flutter, and den dey may say "Peace, Peace," as much as dey likes, _I
know its gwine to be war!_' She is very firm on this point, and ascribes
to this her great impunity, in spite of the lethargy before mentioned,
which would seem likely to throw her into the hands of her enemies. She
says she inherited this power, that her father could always predict the
weather, and that he foretold the Mexican war.
"In 1867 she made her most venturesome journey, for she brought with her
to the North her old parents, who were no longer able to walk such
distances as she must go by night. Consequently she must hire a wagon
for them, and it required all her ingenuity to get them through Maryland
and Delaware safe. She accomplished it, however, and by the aid of her
friends she brought them safe to Canada, where they spent the winter.
Her account of their sufferings there--of her mother's complaining and
her own philosophy about it--is a lesson of trust in Providence better
than many sermons. But she decided to bring them to a more comfortable
place, and so she negotiated with Mr. Seward--then in the Senate--for a
little patch of ground with a house on it, at Auburn, near his own
home. To the credit of the Secretary of State it should be said, that
he sold her the property on very favorable terms, and gave her some time
for payment. To this house she removed her parents, and set herself to
work to pay for her purchase. It was on this errand that she first
visited Boston--we believe in the winter of 1858-9. She brought a few
letters from her friends in New York, but she could herself neither read
nor write, and she was obliged to trust to her wits that they were
delivered to the right persons. One of them, as it happened, was to the
present writer, who received it by another hand, and called to see her
at her boarding-house. It was curious to see the caution with which she
received her visitor until she felt assured that there was no mistake.
One of her means of security was to carry with her the daguerreotypes of
her friends, and show them to each new person. If they recognized the
likeness, then it was all right.
"Pains were taken to secure her the attention to which her great
services to humanity entitled her, and she left New England with a
handsome sum of money towards the payment of her debt to Mr. Seward.
Before she left, however, she had several interviews with Captain Brown,
then in Boston. He is supposed to have communicated his plans to her,
and to have been aided by her in obtaining recruits and money among her
people. At any rate, he always spoke of her with the greatest respect,
and declared that 'General Tubman,' as he styled her, was a better
officer than most whom he had seen, and could command an army as
successfully as she had led her small parties of fugitives.
"Her own veneration for Captain Brown has always been profound, and
since his murder, has taken the form of a religion. She had often risked
her own life for her people, and she thought nothing of that; but that a
white man, and a man so noble and strong, should so take upon himself
the burden of a despised race, she could not understand, and she took
refuge from her perplexity in the mysteries of her fervid religion.