My ancestors were transported from Africa to America at the time the
slave trade flourished in the Eastern States. I cannot give dates, as
my progenitors, being slaves, had no means of keeping them. By all
accounts my great grandfather was captured and brought from Africa.
His original name I never learned. His master's name was Jackson, and
he resided in the State of New York. My grandfather was born in the
same State, and also remained a slave for some length of time, when he
was emancipated, his master presenting him with quite an amount of
property. He was true, honest and responsible, and this present was
given him as a reward. He was much encouraged by the cheering prospect
of better days. A better condition of things now presented itself. As
he possessed a large share of confidence, he came to the conclusion,
as he was free, that he was capable of selecting his own residence and
manage his own affairs with prudence and economy. But, alas, his hopes
were soon blighted. More heart rending sorrow and degradation awaited
him. He was earnestly invited by a white decoyer to relinquish his
former design and accompany him to Missouri and join him in
speculation and become wealthy. As partners, they embarked on board a
schooner for St. Charles, Mo. On the passage, my grandfather was
seized with a fever, and for a while was totally unconscious. When he
regained his reason he found himself, near his journey's end, divested
of his free papers and all others. On his arrival at St. Charles he
was seized by a huge, surly looking slaveholder who claimed him as
his property. The contract had previously been concluded by his
Judas-like friend, who had received the bounty. Oh, what a sad
disappointment. After serving for thirty years to be thrust again into
bondage where a deeper degradation and sorrow and hopeless toil were
to be his portion for the remaining years of his existence. In deep
despair and overwhelmed with grief, he made his escape to the woods,
determined to put an end to his sorrows by perishing with cold and
hunger. His master immediately pursued him, and in twenty-four hours
found him with hands and feet frost-bitten, in consequence of which he
lost the use of his fingers and toes, and was thenceforth of little
use to his new master. He remained with him, however, and married a
woman in the same station in life. They lived as happily as their
circumstances would permit. As Providence allotted, they only had one
son, which was my father, Westly Jackson. He had a deep affection for
his family, which the slave ever cherishes for his dear ones. He had
no other link to fasten him to the human family but his fervent love
for those who were bound to him by love and sympathy in their wrongs
and sufferings. My grandfather remained in the same family until his
death. My father, Westly Jackson, married, at the age of twenty-two, a
girl owned by James Harris, named Ellen Turner. Nothing of importance
occurred until three years after their marriage, when her master,
Harris failed through the extravagance and mismanagement of his wife,
who was a great spendthrift and a dreaded terror to the poor slaves
and all others with whom she associated in common circumstances,
consequently the entire stock was sold by the sheriff to a trader
residing in Virginia. On account of the good reputation my mother
sustained as a worthy servant and excellent cook, a tyrannical and
much dreaded slaveholder watched for an opportunity to purchase her,
but fortunately arrived a few moments too late, and she was bid off in
too poor a condition of health to remain long a subject of banter and
speculation. Her husband was allowed to carefully lift her down from
the block and accompany her to her new master's, Charles Canory, who
treated her very kindly while she remained in his family. Mr. Canory
resided in St. Charles County for five years after he purchased my
mother. During that time my father and mother were in the same
neighborhood, but a short distance from each other. But another trial
awaited them. Her master removed twenty miles away to a village called
Bremen, near St. Louis, Mo. My father, thereafter, visited my mother
once a week, walking the distance every Saturday evening and returning
on Sunday evening. But through all her trials and deprivations her
trust and confidence was in Him who rescued his faithful followers
from the fiery furnace and the lion's den, and led Moses through the
Red Sea. Her trust and confidence was in Jesus. She relied on His
precious promises, and ever found Him a present help in every time of
need. Two years after this separation my father was sold and separated
from us, but previous to his delivery to his new master he made his
escape to a free State. My mother was then left with two children. She
had three during the time they were permitted to remain together, and
buried one. Their names were Sarah Ann, Mattie Jane and Esther J. When
my father left I was about three years of age, yet I can well remember
the little kindnesses my father used to bestow upon us, and the deep
affection and fondness he manifested for us. I shall never forget the
bitter anguish of my parents' hearts, the sighs they uttered or the
profusion of tears which coursed down their sable cheeks. O, what a
horrid scene, but he was not her's, for cruel hands had separated
them.
The strongest tie of earthly joy that bound the aching heart--
His love was e'er a joyous light that o'er the pathway shone--
A fountain gushing ever new amid life's desert wild--
His slightest word was a sweet tone of music round her heart--
Their lives a streamlet blent in one. O, Father, must they part?
They tore him from her circling arms, her last and fond embrace--
O never again can her sad eyes gaze upon his mournful face.
It is not strange these bitter sighs are constant bursting forth.
Amid mirth and glee and revelry she never took a part,
She was a mother left alone with sorrow in her heart.
But my mother was conscious some time previous of the change that was
to take place with my father, and if he was sold in the immediate
vicinity he would be likely to be sold again at their will, and she
concluded to assist him to make his escape from bondage. Though the
parting was painful, it afforded her solace in the contemplation of
her husband becoming a free man, and cherishing a hope that her little
family, through the aid of some angel of mercy, might be enabled to
make their escape also, and meet to part no more on earth. My father
came to spend the night with us, according to his usual custom. It was
the last time, and sadness brooded upon his brow. It was the only
opportunity he had to make his escape without suspicion and detection,
as he was immediately to fall into the hands of a new master. He had
never been sold from the place of his birth before, and was determined
never to be sold again if God would verify his promise. My father was
not educated, but was a preacher, and administered the Word of God
according to the dictation and revelation of the spirit. His former
master had allowed him the privilege of holding meetings in the
village within the limits of his pass on the Sundays when he visited
my mother. But on this Saturday evening he arrived and gave us all his
farewell kiss, and hurried away. My mother's people were aware of my
father's intention, but rather than spare my mother, and for fear she
might be detected, they secreted his escape. His master called a
number of times and enquired for him and strongly pressed my mother to
give him an account of my father, but she never gave it. We waited
patiently, hoping to learn if he succeeded in gaining his freedom.
Many anxious weeks and months passed before we could get any tidings
from him, until at length my mother heard that he was in Chicago, a
free man and preaching the Gospel. He made every effort to get his
family, but all in vain. The spirit of slavery so strongly existed
that letters could not reach her; they were all destroyed. My parents
had never learned the rescuing scheme of the underground railroad
which had borne so many thousands to the standard of freedom and
victories. They knew no other resource than to depend upon their own
chance in running away and secreting themselves. If caught they were
in a worse condition than before.