REBELLION WEAKENING--SLAVES' HOPES STRENGTHENING.
* * * * *
M'GEES SLAVES TAKEN TO ALABAMA.
While I was absent on my last runaway trip, the Yankees had made a raid
through Panola; and our people had become greatly frightened. As soon as
they had got back with me and my fellow runaways, they assembled a gang
of slaves for the purpose of taking them to Atlanta, Ga., to get them
out of the reach of the Union soldiers. Among the slaves selected for
the transfer were myself, my wife Matilda, and the seamstress. The
others all belonged to Dr. Dandridge and Blanton McGee. Both the Drs.
Dandridge went with us to Atlanta. We traveled across the country until
we came to Demopolis, Alabama, where we found Boss camped on the bank of
the Tombigbee river with all the farm slaves from Bolivar county. This
was the first time I had seen Boss since he was captured and taken to
Helena. As my wife and I were the only ones in the gang who belonged to
Boss, we left those with whom we had come and joined his gang. We all
then went aboard a boat and were taken to the salt works, situated on
the Tombigbee, ninety miles from Mobile. These salt works belonged to
the rebel government. The first president of the works was Mr. Woolsey,
of Salem, Alabama. During Mr. Woolsey's term, the first part of 1864,
when we had been there some time, he wrote to Boss asking if he would
sell myself and wife, and offering $3,000 for both of us. Boss was
indignant at this and curtly refused. My wife acted as cook at the salt
works, in the headquarters for the president, managers and clerks. Mr.
Woolsey was delighted with her cooking; her bread and rolls, he said,
could not be surpassed.
* * * * *
M'GEE'S GREAT SCHEME.
When the election of officers of the works came off in the fall, Mr.
Gallatin McGee was chosen president. Boss then hired us all, about 100
in number, to labor in these works, but he, of course, received all the
revenue. The work assigned me was that of butler at headquarters, and my
wife was cook. Both women and children, as well as men, were employed in
these works. After some months labor here, soon after Gallatin McGee
became president, Matilda and I were removed to the Montgomery
headquarters, where we remained until nearly Christmas. A few days
before that time, Boss came to Montgomery and arranged for us to meet
him in Mobile. We started at the appointed time, reached the city in the
morning, and I went directly to the hotel where he told me he would be.
I found him at once, and he informed me all about his plans for the
future, and what he expected to accomplish. He had purchased an island
in the bay, a little way from Mobile, where he had decided to establish
salt works of his own. All the brick and lumber for the buildings had
been carried there, and work upon them was to be commenced immediately
after Christmas. He intended to make a home for the family on the
island; and, as soon as he could complete the works, to remove all his
hands from the government works to his own. He was very enthusiastic
over this scheme, claiming that he would make far more money by it than
he was then receiving from hiring out his slaves. He told me that he
would remain in Mobile two or three days and would go to Panola to spend
the holidays, after which he intended to bring all the family to Mobile,
and remain there until the island was in readiness to be occupied.
There was to be a general break up of the old home, and the beginning of
a new manner of life. I stayed in his room at the hotel all the
forenoon, listening to his plans; then I went back where my wife was
stopping. As I left his room, he said: "Lou," as he always called me, "I
will see you and Matilda at the boat this evening." We went to the boat
at the appointed time and saw the Boss, but he did not come near us. As
the boat was about to put off, I looked and saw him walking up and down
the levee, apparently much excited, running his hands nervously through
his hair--a habit common to him when he was worried. He seemed greatly
distressed. The military situation troubled him, for the Union army had
conquered nearly everything; and the fact now stared him in the face
that he would soon lose his slaves. He never dreamed in the beginning of
the war that the Unionists would conquer, and that the slaves would be
freed; but now he saw that not only all his wealth in the bodies and
souls of men was slipping away from him, but that much, if not all of
the gain which these chattels had brought him was likely to "take wings
and fly away."
* * * * *
M'GEE'S DEATH.
We returned to the salt works the morning after leaving Mobile. Boss
remained two days in Mobile, and then started for Panola, the home of
his father-in-law; but, on his way, he was taken sick, having contracted
a heavy cold which ran into pneumonia, and he lasted only a short time,
dying on New Year's day. He had taken cold in bringing the slaves from
Bolivar over the river on barges. The river was overflowed about fifty
miles out, and the only way he could get the slaves across was by using
large barges made of logs. They were several days floating down in this
way, before he could get out to the railroad at Jackson, Miss., where he
transferred them to the cars. This was too much of an exposure and it
killed him.
After Boss died all the plans were changed. Col. Hunting, son-in-law of
old Master Jack, came down to the salt works and hired us all out there
for another year. This was the beginning of the year 1865. Of master's
plans concerning the island and his proposed salt works the family knew
little, for they questioned me close as to what he told me of the
matter. What he spent on the island in lumber, brick, etc., was lost, as
they knew nothing of the particulars of the expenditure. The madam
remained at her fathers, and the slaves at the works.
* * * * *
I MAKE SOME MONEY.
As I was here for another year, acting as butler, I thought I would try
and see if I could not make some money for myself. I asked Mr. Brooks,
the manager of the works, if he could get me some tobacco by sending to
Mobile for it. He said he could; and on the fourth day thereafter, in
the evening, it came. I was anxious to get it the same evening, but Mr.
Brooks said: "Oh! I guess you had better wait until morning, then when
you finish your work come down to the office and get it--you will then
have more time to see the boys in the works." In the morning I was up
early, and after doing my morning work I was off to Brooks' office. When
I went in he said: "There it is under the table." The package was so
small I felt disappointed--a hundred dollars worth ought to be more,
said I to myself; but I took it, and went out among the men. I thought I
would try to sell it at five dollars a plug, and if I could not sell it
at that I would take four dollars. I must make something, for I had
borrowed the money to buy it with; and I saw that to clear anything on
it, I must at least get four dollars a plug. The money which I had
borrowed was from three fellow servants, who had been fortunate in
earning some little time and had saved their money. The first man I met
in the works bought two plugs, at five dollars each; and after I had
been there about an hour all was sold. So I went back with a light
heart. Mr. Brooks said to me at dinner: "Well, how did you get along
with your tobacco?" "I did very well," I said, "the only trouble was I
did not have enough. I sold it for $180." "Well," said he, "if you did,
you made more clear money than the works here. How much a plug did you
sell it for?" at the same time drawing out his pencil and commencing to
figure it up. "I had thirty-six plugs," said I, "and I sold them for
five dollars a plug." Nothing more was said just then, but after dinner
Brooks and two of the clerks went out on the veranda to smoke. When they
were in a good way smoking, Brooks slipped into the dining room, and
said: "Well, that was fine; you got five dollars a plug for the
tobacco?" "Oh, yes!" I said, "tobacco is scarce, and they were hungry
for it; it went like hot cakes--the price was not questioned, I sold at
once." "What is the prospect for selling more?" he asked. "Will you sell
it for half the profit if I furnish the tobacco?" I said "yes." So he
sent the same day for a box of tobacco--about five hundred plugs. When
the tobacco came the box was sawed in two and one-half sent up to my
room. I put some fellows out as agents to sell for me--Uncle Hudson, who
took care of the horses and mules at the works; John at the hospital;
William, head chopper, among the 100 men in the woods. Each brought in
from $40.00 to $50.00 every two or three days, and took another supply.
Sometimes, when I had finished my work in the afternoon, I would get an
old pony and go around through the neighborhood and sell four or five
plugs. It was a mystery to the servants how I got the tobacco; but I did
not let on that Brooks was backing me. In two weeks we had taken in
$1,600.00, and I was happy as I could be. Brooks was a fine fellow--a
northerner by birth, and did just what he said he would. I received
one-half of the money. Of course this was all rebel money, but I was
sharp, and bought up all the silver I could find. Just as we got on the
other half of the box, Brooks received word that the Yankees were
coming, and to send all the hands to their masters. I was glad that I
had made some money, knowing that I would need it if I gained my
freedom, which I now knew was quite probable, as the Union forces were
gaining ground everywhere. But the message ended my money-making, and I
prepared to go home to Panola.
* * * * *
GOING BACK TO PANOLA.
Mr. Brooks fixed the return papers so that my wife and I could leave the
party of slaves at Demopolis, and go on thence to Panola by rail, to
convey the news to madam that all hands were coming home; that the
Yankees were expected to capture the salt works within a short time. At
Jackson, some seven miles from the salt works, we were delayed over
night by reason of lack of facilities for crossing the Tombigbee river.
The report that the Yankees were coming through had created a panic
among the white people; and hundreds, fleeing from their homes, had
gathered at the river, waiting and clamoring for an opportunity to
cross. Though slaves were property, and valuable on that account, the
whites seemed to think that their own lives were in danger, and to be
protected first. They therefore took precedence of us. In the morning
about seven o'clock a steamer was seen coming at a distance; but it
could not be discovered at once just what the character of it was. The
whites became alarmed. Some said: "The Yankees are coming." Other said:
"It is a gun boat--they will surely fire on us." But as the boat drew
near the people saw that there was nothing to fear--it was only the
regular passenger boat. Besides the hundreds of people, there were
scores of wagons, filled with household goods to go over, and the
passage was slow and tedious. We finally got across and traveled as far
as Demopolis, where Matilda and I left the other slaves, and took a
train and went on to Panola. I delivered the papers to the madam from
Brooks, which told her all the particulars concerning the break up at
the salt works. She sent wagons right away after the other slaves who
were coming back on foot. They were not brought back to Panola; but were
hired out to different farmers along the road home--some in Jackson,
some in Granda and others in Panola town. These were all small towns in
Mississippi. My wife and I went to work at old Master Jack's, I on the
farm and my wife at her old duties in the house. We longed for freedom,
but were content for the time with hoping and praying for the coming of
the day when it should be realized. It was sad to see the changes that
had come to the white folks. Sorrow had left its impress upon all and we
felt it, notwithstanding all that we had suffered at their hands. Boss
had willed the homestead in Memphis to Mrs. Farrington, and she was
getting ready to take possession. He had borrowed a great amount of
money from her when he bought the island at Mobile; and the rapid coming
on of the end of the rebellion destroyed all prospect of the success of
his salt works scheme, even before his death, and really rendered him
bankrupt. Hence the transfer of the Memphis property to her was the only
way he could make good what he owed her. The madam now had no home, but
was compelled to stay with her father, old Master Jack. She was sadly
changed--did not appear like the same person. Her troubles and sorrows
had crushed her former cruel and haughty spirit. Her mother had died a
few months before, and then her husband had followed, dying suddenly and
away from home. Then much of her property had been lost, and social
pleasures and distinction were gone forever. Who shall say that the
wrongs done her poor, helpless slaves were not avenged in this life? The
last I knew of her she was still at her father's.
* * * * *
INCIDENTS.
A servant who belonged to Dr. Dandridge ran away and got to Memphis just
after it was captured by the Union soldiers. He was put into the army
and was stationed at one of the entrances to the city. He was to halt
all persons passing to or from the city, no difference who they were,
and learn their names and their business. Young William McGee and his
sister, Miss Cherry, one day went up to Memphis and, to their surprise,
were halted by this former servant of their uncle. When they came home
they were speaking of it to their father, and old Master Jack said: "And
you halted, did you?" "Why, yes," replied William, "we had to do it."
"Well," said the old man, "I would have died-died before I would have
done it. To think that a servant should have halted you, and one who has
belonged to the family like Anderson!" This old man, notwithstanding all
his boasting in the absence of immediate danger, was the veriest coward
when danger was present; and if he had been in the place of young
William, he would have halted with the greatest alacrity.
While at the salt works I had a little experience at nursing. A fellow
slave was taken ill, and I was called on to care for him at night. I
always liked this work; it was a pleasure to me to be in the sick room.
Typhoid fever was a new case to me, but I remembered what instructions
Boss had given me about it. I "pitched in" to do what I could; but the
fever was so great he lasted only a few days.
* * * * *
MY FIFTH STRIKE FOR FREEDOM IS A SUCCESS.
We had remained at old Jack's until June, 1865, and had tried to be
content. The Union soldiers were still raiding all through that section.
Every day some town would be taken, and the slaves would secretly
rejoice. After we came back from Alabama we were held with a tighter
rein than ever. We were not allowed to go outside of the premises.
George Washington, a fellow servant, and Kitty, his wife, and I had
talked considerably about the Yankees, and how we might get away. We
knew it was our right to be free, for the proclamation had long been
issued--yet they still held us. I did not talk much to my wife about
going away, as she was always so afraid I would be killed, and did not
want me to try any more to escape. But George, his wife and I continued
to discuss the matter, whenever we had a chance. We knew that Memphis
was headquarters for the Union troops, but how to reach it was the
great question.
It was Sunday, and I had driven one portion of the family to church, and
George the other. The family was now very large, as the madam and her
family were there, in addition to Old Master Jack's, and all could not
go in one carriage. On the way back, young William McGee came up through
the farm, on horseback, a nearer way home from church, and encountered
several servants belonging to some of the neighbors. He asked them what
they were doing there, and if they had passes. To this last question all
answered no. "Well," said he, "never come here again without having
passes, all of you." At this they all quickly disappeared. When Old Jack
came home, Will told him what had passed; and he immediately called for
George and Uncle Peter, the foreman, and told them that no one not
belonging there was to come into the quarters without a pass; and any
servant with a pass should be brought to the house, that the pass might
be inspected. They thought, or feared, that if the servants were
permitted to come together freely they might plan ways of escape, and
communicate to each other what they knew about the war and the Yankees.
George came out, and finding me, told me what they had said. "No slave
from outside is to be allowed on the place," said he. I replied: "If we
listen to them we shall be here until Christmas comes again." "What do
you mean?" asked George. "I mean that now, today, is the time to make a
start." So, late in the afternoon, during the servants' prayer meeting,
of which I have heretofore spoken, we thought would be a good time to
get away, as no one would be likely to see us. We talked with John
Smith, another servant, and told him all about our plan, asking him not
to say a word about our being gone until he was through feeding the
stock. This would give us another hour to advance on our journey, as the
feeding usually took about that time--from six o'clock until seven. Our
fear was that we might be overtaken by the bloodhounds; and, therefore,
we wished to get as far away as possible before the white people knew we
were gone. It was Sunday afternoon, June 26th, 1865, when George and I,
having made ready for the start for the Union lines, went to bid our
wives good-bye. I told my wife to cheer up, as I was coming again to get
her. I said to Kitty, George's wife: "We are going, but look for us
again. It will not be with us as with so many others, who have gone
away, leaving their families and never returning for them. We will be
here again." She looked up at me, smiling, and with a look of
resolution, said: "I'll be ready." She was of a firm, daring nature--I
did not fear to tell her all my plans. As my wife was so timid, I said
as little as possible to her. George and I hurriedly said our farewells
to our wives. The parting was heartrending, for we knew the dangers were
great, and the chances were almost even that we should not meet again. I
could hardly leave my wife, her agitation and grief were so great. But
we were off in a few moments. We crept through the orchard, passing
through farm after farm until we struck the railroad, about seven miles
from home. We followed this road until we reached Senatobia, about half
past seven in the evening. We felt good, and, stopping all night, we
started the next morning for Hernando, Miss., another small town, and
reached there at two o'clock in the afternoon. The most of the bridges
had been burned, by the troops, and there were no regular railroad
trains. Fortunately, however, flat cars, drawn by horses were run over
the road; and on a train of this kind we took passage. On several
occasions, the passengers had to get out, and push the car over a
bridge, as it was not made so horses could cross on it, the horses
meantime being driven or led through the stream, and then hitched to the
car again. After we had gone through this process repeatedly, we at last
reached Memphis, arriving about seven o'clock Monday evening. The city
was filled with slaves, from all over the south, who cheered and gave us
a welcome. I could scarcely recognize Memphis, things were so changed.
We met numbers of our fellow servants who had run away before us, when
the war began. Tuesday and Wednesday we spent in making inquiries; and I
visited our old home at McGee's station. But how different it was from
what it had been when the McGees were there. All was changed. Thursday
we went to see Col. Walker, a Union officer, who looked after the
colored folks, and saw that they had their rights. When we reached his
office we found it so filled with people, waiting to see him, that we
were delayed about two hours, before we had an opportunity of speaking
with him. When our turn came, we went in, and told him that we were
citizens of Memphis until the fall of Fort Pillow and Donelson, when
our master had run us off, with a hundred other slaves, into
Mississippi, and thence to the salt works in Alabama. He questioned us
as to where we lived in Memphis. I answered: "What is now headquarters
of the Union forces was the home of master, Mr. Edmund McGee, who is now
dead." After a few minutes, I said: "Colonel, we want protection to go
back to Mississippi after our wives, who are still held as slaves." He
replied: "You are both free men to go and come as you please." "Why,"
said I, "Colonel, if we go back to Mississippi they will shoot the
gizzards out of us." "Well," said he, "I can not grant your request. I
would be overrun with similar applications; but I will tell you what you
can do. There are hundreds of just such men as you want, who would be
glad of such a scout." We thanked him and left.
* * * * *
GOING BACK FOR OUR WIVES.
After carefully considering the matter, we concluded to go back to
Senatobia and see the captain of the Union troops there. The next day,
Friday, we hired a two horse wagon, and made preparations to start on
our perilous undertaking Saturday morning. It was our hope to find some
one at Senatobia to go with us to Panola, and protect us in the effort
to bring away our wives. So, early in the morning, we set out. Our
first stop was at Big Springs camping ground, where we made preparations
for refreshing ourselves and spending the night. Just as we had finished
building a fire, for cooking and keeping off the mosquitoes, two
soldiers came riding up to the spring. "Hello," said one, "which way are
you traveling?" "We are just from Memphis," said George. "Have you any
whisky?" asked one of them. We replied "yes." "Will you give a fellow a
horn?" We answered the question by handing them the bottle. While they
were drinking, George and I stepped aside, and, after a few moments
talk, we decided to put the question to them of going with us to get our
wives. I asked: "Where are you from?" "Senatobia," replied one. We at
once laid our cause before them, telling them what Col. Walker had said
regarding our getting some one to go with us on our enterprise. They
listened attentively, and when we had finished, one of them asked: "How
much whisky have you?" George answered: "Two bottles." "What do you
intend to do when you see the captain at Senatobia?" "Lay our complaint
before him," said I. "Now my friend," said one of the soldiers, "I am
afraid if you go to the captain you will be defeated. But I'll tell you
what I'll do. Give my comrade and me one of your bottles of whisky, and
we will put you on a straight track. The reason why I say this is that
our captain has been sweetened by the rebel farmers. He is invited out
to tea by them every evening. I know he will put you off. But I will
write a note to some comrades of mine who, I know, will bring you out
safe." We agreed at once to this proposition, and gave them the whisky.
He wrote the note, and gave it to us, telling us to go to the last tent
on the line in the camp, where we would find two boys to whom we should
give it. "They are brave," said he, "and the only two I know of that can
help you. If they are not there don't give the note to any one else, but
wait till they come back, on Tuesday night. I feel satisfied that they
will go and help you out." With these words, they rode off. George and I
felt good over our prospects.
* * * * *
A HAZARDOUS TRIP.
The next morning was Sunday, and we started on, reaching Senatobia about
eleven o'clock. We went into the camp, following the directions given
us, to go to the last tent in the line; but, when we reached there, the
soldiers were out. We lingered around the grounds a short time, then
went back, and found them there. We gave them the note; and, after
reading it, they simply asked us where we had stopped our wagon. I told
them outside the village. "Go there," said one of them, "and remain
until we come out to see you." Shortly they came out; and, after we had
told them what we wanted, the distance to McGee's, which was about
nineteen miles from Senatobia, and had given them such other information
as they desired, they concluded that they would go. "We want to be
back," said I, "before daylight Monday morning, because we must not be
seen on the road; for we are well known in that section, and, if
discovered, would be captured and killed." "Well," said one of the
soldiers, "we will have to go back to camp, and arrange to be excused
from roll call this evening, before we can make the trip." They went
back to camp; and, in about ten minutes they came out again saying: "All
is right; we will go." We gave them each ten dollars; and promised, if
they brought us out safely, to give each ten dollars more. It was now
about half-past eleven o'clock. They had to go to camp, and slip their
horses out cautiously, so as not to be seen by the captain. In half an
hour we were on our way; and, after we had ridden some two miles, we
were overtaken by the two soldiers. It was Sunday afternoon; and our
having a wagon attracted much attention from the farmers as we passed
along. They looked at us so sharply that George and I felt decidedly
uneasy; yet we kept up courage and pressed steadily on. After a long and
weary ride we reached old Master Jack's a little after sundown. The
soldiers rode into the yard ahead of us, and the first person they met
was a servant (Frank) at the woodpile. They said to him: "Go in and tell
your master, Mr. McGee, to come out, we want to see him," at the same
time asking for Louis' and George's wives. Young William McGee came out
and the soldiers said to him: "We want feed for seventy-five head of
horses." McGee said: "We have not got it." Just then George and I were
coming up. We drove in at the gate, through the grove, and passed the
woodpile where McGee and the soldiers were talking. McGee had just
replied: "We have not got that much feed to spare--we are almost out."
"Well," said the soldiers, "we must have it," and they followed on right
after the wagons. As we drove past them, young McGee went running into
the house, saying to his mother: "It is Louis and George, and I'll kill
one of them to-night." This raised quite an alarm, and the members of
the family told him not to do that, as it would ruin them. As soon as
George and I drove up to the first cabin, which was my wife's and
Kitty's, we ran in. Kitty met us at the door and said: "I am all ready."
She was looking for us. We commenced loading our wagon with our few
things. Meanwhile the soldiers had ridden around a few rods and came
upon old Master Jack and the minister of the parish, who were watching
as guards to keep the slaves from running away to the Yankees. Just
think of the outrage upon those poor creatures in forcibly retaining
them in slavery long after the proclamation making them free had gone
into effect beyond all question! As the soldiers rode up to the two men
they said: "Hello! what are you doing here? Why have you not told these
two men, Louis and George, that they are free men--that they can go and
come as they like?" By this time all the family were aroused, and great
excitement prevailed. The soldier's presence drew all the servants near.
George and I hurried to fill up our wagon, telling our wives to get in,
as there was no time to lose--we must go at once. In twenty minutes we
were all loaded. My wife, Aunt Kitty and nine other servants followed
the wagon. I waited for a few moments for Mary Ellen, sister of my wife;
and as she came running out of the white folks' house, she said to her
mistress, Mrs. Farrington: "Good-bye; I wish you good luck." "I wish you
all the bad luck," said she in a rage. But Mary did not stop to notice
her mistress further; and joining me, we were soon on the road following
the wagon.
* * * * *
TWO BRAVE MEN.
Those soldiers were brave indeed. Think of the courage and daring
involved in this scheme--only two soldiers going into a country of which
they knew nothing except that every white man living in it was their
enemy. The demand which they made for food for seventy-five horses was a
clever ruse, invented by them to alarm the McGees, and make them think
that there was a troop of horses near by, and that it would not be safe
for them to offer any resistance to our going away with our wives. Had
they thought that there were but two soldiers, it is certain that they
would have endeavored to prevent us getting away again, and one or more
of us would undoubtedly have been killed.
As already stated, nine other slaves followed our wagon, as it moved
off. They had no hats on; some were bare-footed,--they had not stopped
to get anything; but, as soon as they saw a chance to get away, they
went just as they were at the moment. Aunt Kitty was brave and
forethoughtful, for during the week we were gone she had baked and
cooked a large amount of substantial food that would keep us from
starving while on our journey.
At the first road crossing, the two soldiers thought they saw a large
troop of soldiers in the distance, and they galloped ahead of us at full
speed; but, on arriving at the spot, they found that what they had
thought soldiers were only a herd of cattle. They rode on to the next
crossing, we following as we conveniently could. Each poor slave was
busy with his thoughts and his prayers. Now and then one would hear a
moan or a word from some of the party. All were scared, even though the
soldiers were with us. We came to the next cross road, and passed that
safely. Our fear was that the McGees might get the neighborhood to join
them and pursue us, or send the home guards after us; but Providence
was seemingly smiling upon us at last, for no one followed or molested
us. We moved on all night, until we came to a creek, at four o'clock in
the morning of Monday. The banks of the creek were very steep, and as
the horses and wagon went down into the stream, the mattress on top of
the wagon, upon which my wife and her sister's children were sitting,
was thrown off into the water. Immediately the horses stopped, and
became balky. It was such a warm night that they did not want to move on
out of the water, and would not start, either, until they got ready. As
soon as the soldiers saw the mattress slide off with my wife and the
children, one of them plunged into the water with his horse, and, in a
minute, brought them all out. All had a good ducking--indeed it seemed
like a baptism by immersion. The drenched ones were wrapped in old
blankets; and, after an hour's delay, we were again on our way. The
soldiers said: "Now we must leave you; the time is coming when we must
be in camp for roll call. If you are not at our camp when roll call is
over, we will come back and see about you." We gave them each the second
ten dollars, as agreed upon, and just as they rode to the top of the
hill they left us. We had a clear sweep from this point, and we came
into Senatobia about nine o'clock in the forenoon. Our two soldier
friends, who had brought us out so safely, came out of camp to see us.
They cheered us, and seemed glad that they had rendered us service. We
stopped at the camp until we had dried our clothes and had some
breakfast; and, then, we made our way to Memphis.
* * * * *
OUT OF BONDAGE AT LAST.
My wife and her sister were shoeless, and the latter had no hat on--she
had hurried out of the house in such excitement that she thought of
nothing but getting away. Having to walk some of the way, as all could
not ride in the wagon at the same time, we were all tired, dirty and
rest-broken, and, on the whole, a pitiful crowd to look at, as we came
into the city. One venerable old man, bent with age, whose ebony face
shone with delight, came running out into the road as we appeared,
exclaiming: "Oh! here dey come, God bless 'em! Poor chil'en! they come
fannin." We used large palm leaves to fan ourselves with, as we were so
warm. Those nine souls that followed us walked the whole distance,
arriving shortly after we did. Thousands of others, in search of the
freedom of which they had so long dreamed, flocked into the city of
refuge, some having walked hundreds of miles.
It was appropriately the 4th of July when we arrived; and, aside from
the citizens of Memphis, hundreds of colored refugees thronged the
streets. Everywhere you looked you could see soldiers. Such a day I
don't believe Memphis will ever see again--when so large and so motley a
crowd will come together. Our two soldier rescuers looked us up after we
were in Memphis, and seemed truly glad that we had attained our freedom,
and that they had been instrumental in it. Only one thing we regret, and
that is that we did not learn their names; but we were in so much
trouble, and so absorbed in the business which we had in hand--so
excited by the perils of our undertaking, that we never thought to ask
them their names, or to what regiment they belonged. Then, after we got
to Memphis, though we were most grateful for the service which they had
rendered us, we were still so excited by our new condition and
surroundings that we thought of little else, and forgot that we had no
means of establishing, at a later time, the identity of those to whom
we owed so much. Freedom, that we had so long looked for, had come at
last; and we gave praise to God, blessing the day when we met those two
heroes. It is true that we should have been free, sooner or later;
still, but for their assistance, my wife and I might never have met
again. If I could not have gone back, which I could never have done
alone, until long after, such changes might have occurred as would have
separated us for years, if not forever. Thousands were separated in this
manner--men escaping to the Union lines, hoping to make a way to return
for their families; but, failing in this, and not daring to return
alone, never saw their wives or children more. Thanks to God, we were
guided to these brave soldiers, and so escaped from so cruel a fate.
* * * * *
A WORD FOR MY OLD MASTER.
In closing this account of my years of bondage, it is, perhaps, but
justice to say of my old master that he was in some respects kinder and
more humane than many other slaveholders. He fed well, and all had
enough to wear, such as it was. It is true that the material was coarse,
but it was suited to the season, and, therefore, comfortable, which
could not truthfully be said of the clothing of the slaves of other
planters. Not a few of these did not have sufficient clothes to keep
them warm in winter; nor did they have sufficient nourishing and
wholesome food. But while my master showed these virtues, similar to
those which a provident farmer would show in the care of his dumb
brutes, he lacked in that humane feeling which should have kept him from
buying and selling human beings and parting kindred--which should have
made it impossible for him to have permitted the lashing, beating and
lacerating of his slaves, much more the hiring of an irresponsible
brute, by the year, to perform this barbarous service for him. The
McGees were charitable--as they interpreted the word--were always ready
to contribute to educational and missionary funds, while denying, under
the severest penalties, all education to those most needing it, and all
true missionary effort--the spiritual enlightenment for which they were
famishing. Then our masters lacked that fervent charity, the love of
Christ in the heart, which if they had possessed they could not have
treated us as they did. They would have remembered the golden rule: "Do
unto others as ye would that men should do to you." Possessing absolute
power over the bodies and souls of their slaves, and grown rich from
their unrequited toil, they became possessed by the demon of avarice and
pride, and lost sight of the most vital of the Christly qualities.