My brother Nicholas said, that our brothers recommended to him and
myself to run away when we were old enough. We used to talk this over.
When God had opened my eyes, I grew very uneasy reflecting upon the
condition of my brothers, who were enjoying their liberty in a land of
freedom. I wanted also to be free. I resolved to be free. I made up my
mind to run away in the year 1837. When I ran away, my brother Nicholas
was not at home; but I was determined to go. I was so intimate with a
man named Henry, one of my acquaintances, that I told him I was about
to run away. He said he would run with me--but he proved a Judas, and
betrayed me. We were to start on Monday night. At this time we lived
at the village. The pasture in which our horses were kept was half a
mile from the village. Henry told me he would meet me there at half
past seven. I tied up all my clothes in a bundle, expecting to start.
I waited till after eight o’clock for Henry, but he did not come. I
started to go back after him, when, behold! I saw my old master, his
two sons, and many other people looking for me. The moon shone very
bright--the old man was bare-headed; his head was very white; his
spectacles were put back upon his head, and I could see them glisten
by the light of the moon. The only reason the old man did not see me
was because he was near-sighted, and forgot to pull his spectacles down
over his eyes. His two sons were standing in the road where I was to
run, and five or six other persons on the watch for me; and my heart
was in my mouth. Said I, “Oh! Lord, what shall I do!” I dropped down
on my hands and feet, and ran half a mile through the grass. I left my
bundle of clothing and three dollars in money which I had been working
for, for some time. All the money I had with me was 75 cents; that a
Quaker gentleman gave me that afternoon. I had told this gentleman that
I was going to run away that night, and he told me which way to start
to get clear. I started for Boston. I travelled all that night. The
next morning I came out in a road opposite a tavern, where two roads
crossed, and I knew not which to take. I took the east. I was 35 miles
from home. The tavern keeper was standing at the door. It was about
sunrise. He told me I had the wrong road. I came back to him, supposing
I had met with a friend. Said he, “Do you want some breakfast?” “Yes,
sir, if you please,” I replied. “Come in, and sit down, and you shall
have some,” he continued. “No, sir,” said I, “I thank you; I will sit
upon the steps.” “No,” said the Georgia man, “come in; we will have
breakfast pretty soon, and we will all sit down together.” “No, sir,
I thank you, I would as soon sit here;” for I thought he was most too
kind to be honest; the Quaker man having told me to avoid Georgia men.
When he found I would not come in, he took hold of my collar, but I
threw him down, for I was resolved to whip the devil out of the way,
if possible. After he was down, I ran for my life. There was a colored
man bringing a pail of water. He cried out to him to stop me; but I
told the colored man if he attempted to trouble me I would knock him
down. I jumped over a fence, and the Georgia man after me; but I saw
no more of the colored man. The white man struck me in the side with a
stone, and run me about a mile. I recovered from the blow of the stone,
so that I could run a little faster. God gave me strength to fight for
my life. The white man fought me, and I fought him with any thing that
came handy, with fists and with stones. I told him he might kill me or
I would kill him. Finally, I whipped him. There was a Dutchman and his
two sons sawing plank in a grist mill. He said, “Glory in your spunk,
my man;” and when I had whipped the man he started back after dogs
and hounds. Said the Dutchman, “Run for your life, for there are two
Georgia men in my house.” I knew them well; they were acquaintances of
my master’s. Their names were Joshua and Nathan Retlidge, traders.
When I heard the dogs and hounds coming after me, I said, “My God! what
shall I do!” for I knew they would put them on my track. I was about
to give up, and wished I had never started. However, I climbed up a
tree, and in the providence of God, the hounds scared up a rabbit. At
the howling of the dogs, I trembled like a leaf, and knew not what
to do. The hounds drew nearer and nearer; the rabbit came under the
tree where I was, and, through the will of an over-ruling Providence,
they all passed by, and I was safely delivered out of their hands. It
was about eight o’clock in the morning when I climbed the tree. I was
hungry and wet with dew. I staid in the tree till about five o’clock
in the afternoon. They hunted the woods pretty well, but they did not
find me. My words are inadequate to express my joyful feelings at my
deliverance. God alone could know my feelings.
I then started for Boston. Then, as now, God alone was my only hope.
I travelled a number of days without eating any thing, under great
anxiety to see Boston. One morning I met a colored man named George. He
was running away, and had got lost. He was from Richmond, Virginia. He
asked my name. I told him; and we travelled a number of days together.
We called into a shop where we thought no one would harm us, and got
something to eat. Thus, under the guidance of Providence, we proceeded
along. We came to a farmer’s house, and we let ourselves out each to
a farmer for $13 a month, our object being to get money to defray our
expenses.
George grew uneasy. He staid only two weeks--was fearful his master
would overtake him. He started for New York, but reached only as far as
Brunswick, 16 miles from where he started, and, as I heard, was taken
up, put in jail, and carried back.
I began to grow uneasy. One morning I asked the farmer for whom I
worked for $4. He gave me that sum. We went to breakfast. I ate
quickly, and cleared. I have not seen him since. I crossed the fields,
missed the bridge, and came to a creek, over which I had to swim. I
came out into the road. A man in a gig overtook me and inquired who I
was, and where I was going. I told him to New Brunswick. He inquired
who I knew. I named the individual I had lived with. He went to his
house, and I took to the woods, and did not come out again until I
reached New Brunswick. I got there about dusk--saw a colored man with a
pail, and inquired of him the way to New York. “Stand here,” said he,
“until I come back.” But it is a hard thing to catch a weasel asleep.
So when he was out of sight, I vanished also. I went to the car bridge;
the man would not let me go across. I went under the bridge and staid
there till the cars arrived; and when the gate opened I passed, and
bade New Brunswick good bye.
I then proceeded on to New York. I travelled until one o’clock in the
morning, though it was cold and frosty. While lying asleep, there
came a drove of hogs. In hunting for acorns, they turned me over. I
was alarmed, supposing my pursuers had overtaken me. I jumped up and
started again, chilled with cold, travelled two hours, and lay down by
the side of a hay-stack.
I arose about day-break. The next place I reached was Elizabethtown.
In going through this town, a man accosted me, saying, “I think I
know your countenance.” “No,” said I, “I know nothing about you.” He
inquired whence I came, and whither I was going; and I told him I was
from home and for New York. I left him, and made my way for Newark.
When I got there I was very hungry, for I had eaten nothing since I
left the farm-house. I went into a bake-shop, and bought eleven pence
worth of bread. The loaf was a pretty large one, and I commenced
eating, but soon felt sick, laid down in the swamp, rested, and started
again.
I met some Irishmen who were working on the rail road, and I thought
every moment I should be killed. One of them asked me where I was
going, for what purpose, and when I should return. I told him I was
going to New York to buy some things, and should return the same
afternoon or next morning. He inquired whether I should return by
the same route, and I replied “Yes.” He said “Very well,” to which I
responded. I looked so bad I suppose he thought strange, for I had on
the same clothes I started with. I proceeded on, came to the ferry,
and crossed over to New York. Near the ferry there was a stable, and a
man sitting by it. We bade each other good morning, and I inquired the
road to Canada. He told me I must go to New York in order to get to
Canada. “Why do you wish to go to Canada?” said he. I told him I had
relations there. I did not then know whether my brother who ran away
before me was in Boston or Canada. Discovering he had a disposition
to question me, I said, “I guessed I would go to New York, get some
clothes, and go back home.” He wished me to come into the stable, and
sit down while he went to the house to get a coat, which he offered to
sell me. I declined his offer, and told him I would as soon stand. He
started off, whether in pursuit of the coat or somebody to detain me, I
do not know, for I left immediately. I paid the ferryman a five-penny
bit, and crossed to New York. No questions were put to me on board the
ferry-boat.