name of Joshua. He had been with him about two years this Christmas. We
were very intimate and I had placed the utmost confidence in him.
Feeling he would not betray my secret, I ventured to inform him where I
had been and what I had done. He felt much elated over the project and
said he would go with me. We had a little money saved up that was earned
by sawing wood and doing odd jobs at night for some of the neighbors,
but that was not sufficient, therefore we had to enter into ways and
means to secure the balance. We solicited work and were fortunate enough
to find it, and by Saturday night our treasury showed the sum of $12. At
last Christmas day had come—the bright and hopeful day of all
Christendom when master and mistress with their friends were to make
merry, and the poor slave to hope that he might be happy for a few hours
at least. Mrs. Mary Mansfield attempted to make her slaves feel cheerful
by giving them a Christmas breakfast, consisting of one quart of
molasses, being one and one-third of a gill for each servant as there
were six of us, about six pounds of sausage meat, which was the
scrapings of the meat-block, and, after we had extracted the wood of the
suffering block from it, we had, approximately, three pounds of meat,
allowing each one-half of a pound. Along with this her bountiful heart
permitted her to give a pan of middlings. This constituted our Christmas
breakfast. While we were eating this festive meal Mr. Mansfield made his
appearance and gave us each fifty cents, and at the same time told me I
could go and see my father and mother on Saturday morning, but be sure
and get back by Monday night without fail. If I had known that by
casting decayed meat to the dog would have cost me so much trouble I
would not have attempted it; and if he had known of my plans for making
my escape he would not have given me money nor permission to visit the
very place at the very time I wanted to go.
The young man George that I made mention of as coming to take my place,
came to Chestertown on Friday, as he thought, to spend Christmas. I
informed him that he was sold to Mansfield to take my place, and that
the plot was to send me to New Orleans; that Joshua and myself had made
arrangements to run away, and if he wanted to go with us he could do so.
It did not take him long to decide to make one of the number. There was
one difficulty in the way with him—he had no money. In order to obviate
that difficulty Joshua and myself agreed to furnish it. I told George to
return home and meet us at a certain place about nine o’clock with a
boat to take us across the creek. Instead of my going away in the
morning as permitted I remained until Saturday night, in order that we
might be together, as Joshua was not acquainted with the route.
When night came we bade farewell to the Mansfield house with its cares
and lashes, and started for the land of liberty and a city where we
could breathe the refreshing air of freedom. When we reached our place
of meeting, according to previous arrangement, about nine o’clock George
was there with the boat waiting for us. The creek was soon crossed and
our course was shaped for George Town Cross Oats, a distance of about
twenty miles. We reached the town about two o’clock in the morning. The
most interesting place to be found by us was the house of our guide, Joe
Brown. To the horror of all we found Joe lying on the floor dead drunk.
Joshua and George did not know Brown’s failings; they became alarmed at
the situation and talked strongly about going back home. This increased
my anxiety considerably, for if they went back my plans would be
destroyed and I returned into the hands of my enemies, or else hunted
down and killed. I at last prevailed on them to go with me to my
mother’s and stay a few hours. This was Sunday morning, the distance was
but half a mile, and we were soon sheltered and out of sight of Joe
Brown. We stayed there all day concealed away up in the attic. This was
a day of great suspense. No one could advise what would be the next best
step to take. We were three helpless beings fleeing from the cruel
chains of bondage.
To my happy surprise that afternoon Joe Brown put in his appearance. He
did not remain long nor have much to say, but told us to meet him that
night at Price’s Woods at seven o’clock. As a signal of our meeting in
safety he would give the sign by crying out, “yea! yo!” and we were to
answer “Friend to the guard!” The place was well known to me and could
be easily found. At seven o’clock, as near as we could judge, we were on
the spot. The sign and countersign were exchanged, and we met. Brown was
master of ceremonies. The first business to be done was the invocation
and pledge. We all four knelt down and prayed and then took an oath that
we would fight for each other till we died. This done, the next was to
pay over the liberation money, nine dollars. Next came the hasty-eaten
but substantial meal of bread and meat that was provided for us by our
guide. We remained there half an hour. The ground was well covered with
snow, making good sleighing.
The night of march had come, and with our anxious faces directed
northward we started for Wilmington, Delaware, it being about
thirty-five miles away. When we had arrived within eight miles of
Wilmington, Brown took us to the house of an old colored man who was an
acquaintance of his. I did not understand why he went there, but I
judged it was to seek for information; and we did receive some very
important news. The old man told him not to go any further on that road
as there was a gang of body-snatchers waiting by the bridge to mob every
colored person that came that way. He directed him to return about eight
miles and take the first left hand road he came to, and that would bring
him into Wilmington another way where he would not meet with any
trouble. The old man’s advice was heeded. We accordingly went back, and
by the time we got there the grey dawn of morning began to appear. Day
was breaking, and travelers like the three of this band had to seek a
hiding-place while the glorious rays of the king of light prevailed, and
men were abroad upon the face of the earth.
Fortune, thus far, had bountifully smiled on our path, and nature had
lent us her aid, bidding us good-speed on our journey. As daylight
lifted the sable curtain of night we saw but a short distance from us a
dense wood, and we made for it in haste. On entering this forest we
found a very large white oak tree that could not endure the mighty winds
of the early fall, and it had been ruthlessly torn up by the roots
before its leaves had fallen. There it lay, forming a complete arbor and
place of safety. When the full light of day came, under it we crept, not
knowing how long we were to remain, nor what might be the result. Joe
Brown left us with strict orders to remain where we were until his
return, that he was going to Wilmington. We had voluntarily placed
ourselves under his care and direction for the safety of our escape,
consequently it was no more than just that we should submit to his
judgment and obey orders for the time being. We stayed all day—or as
long as daylight lasted. This was the greatest and most memorable day in
this undertaking for liberty. Fugitives from slavery.
While lying on the cold ground under this tree, our “city of refuge,” we
were greatly surprised at seeing a number of fox hounds, numbering, I
suppose, from twenty to fifty, running about the forest near to us. They
were accompanied by about fifty men on horseback, who were all white.
The reader may judge the terrible anxiety we had to endure. We were
slaves fleeing from bondage, they were freemen, and to have fallen into
their hands would have been so much added to their gain, and to us,
perhaps, a more sorrowful condition than the one we were fleeing from.
They rode and hunted after a fox throughout the whole day. Several times
the fleeing fox made his unwelcome appearance under the tree that
secreted us from the horsemen’s view, and to my great astonishment I
discovered we were lying over the hole that led to reynard’s den. He
made two or three attempts to get into the hole but we succeeded in
beating him off, and the result was he did not return any more that day.
Our anxiety became more and more intense as we recognized among the band
of hunters some well-known faces, who, it cannot be claimed, were “a
terror to all evil doers,” but to all honest, trustworthy slaves. Had
Mister Fox succeeded in entering the hole we would have been caught, and
our jig would have been up sure. It was in this large, dense forest, in
the State of Delaware, that I was led to see my own fate compared with
that of the wild beast of the forest. True, there was some difference;
the fox was free, and I was seeking for freedom; its pursuers were near
by, but mine were, for all I knew, afar off. Our much-dreaded visitors
remained in the neighborhood all day. It was almost dark before they
relieved us of their presence. This was a day of “foes without and fears
within,” for while I wondered how this day’s events would end from
outward appearances, my two companions became so badly frightened that
my words failed to comfort them. Their fears were so great that they
determined to go back—not to the “flesh pots of Egypt,” but to the
stinted fare and cowhide of slavery. I determined differently. I longed
for the home of the free. Finally, to quiet their fears, I promised if
they would only keep silent I would take them back home.
After it got dark, I waited until the north star had risen, for I
determined, as Joe Brown had not returned, that the journey should be
continued. One day in a place like those woods, with two tired,
discontented companions, was long enough to remain there. As my star of
hope, the guide of the night, came fully in view, we started on our
tramp, as the boys thought for our former home; but not so with me. I
had gained some early knowledge of the north star for the express
purpose for which I was now about to use it. An old man by the name of
Charley Miller had told me where that star was, and if “I could follow
it it would guide me north, that the Lord had placed it there to lead
people out of slavery.” I used it that night, believing what he told me
was true. I followed it for about five miles, when, to my great
astonishment, I met Joe Brown, our leader. He had with him another man
who proved, afterwards, to be our guide for the remainder of the
journey. Joe had with him something to appease our hunger and to cheer
us on, in the substance of a boiled hog’s head and a loaf of corn bread.
He fed us, and we were truly glad to receive it, for we had been without
food the whole day. The fear of being captured and returned to our
masters, or else sold to new ones, had, no doubt, kept under the desire
to eat. But now the evil threatenings of the day were over, and in the
presence of help we could do justice to the nourishment our pilot had
brought us. We stopped and talked for awhile, and Brown placed us under
the care of this new comer, and he continued his journey homeward.
Having taken leave of our former friend and guide we continued to the
goal of our ambition under the care of our new leader. There are a great
many venturesome things a man will do, when determined to escape from
danger or an evil, that he would not do when otherwise situated. To
think that we had placed our fate in the hands of a man who was, to us,
an utter stranger. The confidence that had been reposed in the integrity
of Brown concerning our welfare was, simply, a transferable one. His
deep interestedness in rescuing his race from the cruel chains of
slavery, had established the faith that he would not permit us to be
betrayed into the hands of a friend or advocate of the cruel
institution. The experience of the past had taught us the lesson to
trust and go forward, and forward we went. About midnight of that same
day we passed by Wilmington unmolested by any one, and, as near as I can
judge, it was three o’clock that morning when the dividing line that
runs between the States of Delaware and Pennsylvania were crossed. No
words can depict the joy and gratitude that filled the bosom of one who
had, as it were—not rather as it actually was—stepped from bondage
into liberty, from darkness into light.
I had no means of keeping the days of the month, but was fortunate
enough to remember the day of the week. So it was on a Tuesday morning
that our eyes rested on a State where liberty for the negro slave could
be enjoyed. Perry Augustus, our guide, with much seeming satisfaction
and delight, informed us that we had crossed out of slavery into
freedom. We had had our faithful guides, and they had discharged their
obligations to us to the letter; but I had not forgotten my early
impressions of the existence of an ever kind Providence, for which
gratitude should be shown, consequently I suggested that we should have
a season of prayer and return thanks to God for this safe deliverance.
The old man readily consented to the proposal, and we all knelt down on
the snow-covered ground and offered up humble thanksgiving, and
petitions for future protection and guidance, to the Great Supreme Ruler
of heaven and earth. Those who have been under some heavy burden,
weighing them down by continued torture and misery, when to their relief
has come some happy event, or some sympathising friend who has removed
the torturing evil, may form some idea of the felicity enjoyed by us on
that memorable morning.
When the other two boys learned that we had been successful in crossing
into the land of freedom, they became reconciled, and expressed
themselves as being sorry for the unnecessary trouble they had caused
me, especially while concealed in the forest. We journeyed on for a
distance of about ten miles when we came to a place called New Garden.
At this place we were made acquainted with an old man by the name of
Nelson Wiggins. This we found also to be the resting place of Perry
Augustus. Further developments showed that it was more than a resting
place, it was a temporal home, a little heaven on earth for a fugitive.
The old man had two daughters, who had charge of the house, as his wife
was dead; one of these tender-hearted and benevolent ladies, with her
father, bid us welcome and make ourselves at home. The invitation was
readily accepted and we were comfortably housed and seated. Her agile
step and busy hands were soon employed in preparing a breakfast for the
weary travelers. When it had been prepared we were bid to partake of it.
Breakfast over we were directed to go up stairs where we would find beds
upon which to rest ourselves. The directions were soon followed, and we
laid us down to rest and sleep, to dream of the past and plan for the
future. We remained there all day.
The next night a great number of persons called to see us and
congratulate us on our successful venture. Some of them we had known in
by-gone days. This was delight added to pleasure. Companions in slavery
once, now companions in freedom. Two days were spent in this state of
ease and comfort, and on the third day it was deemed best that we should
start out in search of employment. It being winter time, work, as a
general thing, was very scarce; there did not seem to be anything to do
in New Garden, so we concluded to make our way to Philadelphia.
_CHAPTER IV._
IN THE LAND OF FREEDOM.
On Saturday morning, we bid our kind host and benevolent daughters
good-by and started on our journey. On account of not being acquainted
with the road, we did not reach our destination until about seven
o’clock that night. Going down (what we afterwards learned to be Market
Street,) we found the markets open and crowded with people. I cannot say
we were surprised, but I must confess that we were wonderfully
frightened at seeing so many people at one place at the same time. The
like was never seen by either of us before.
We continued down Market Street until we came to the ferry boat. Not
daring to look to the right or left, we walked on board supposing all
the while we were walking on the street. If it had not been for the
guard chain at the bow of the boat, we would have walked overboard, when
the waters below would have informed us of the blunder. Soon the whistle
sounded, the engine was put in motion, and in a very short time we found
ourselves in a little town called Camden. Here we wandered about for a
short time, but at last concluded to seek the woods for shelter. We
remained in seclusion all day Sunday, not daring to go to anybody’s
house for fear of being kidnapped or imprisoned. When night came, we
started back by the same way we came, for we had neither money or
friends. We knocked around there until the following Sunday; sometimes
visiting somebody’s house, and sometimes secreting ourselves in the
woods.
One day we were successful in obtaining a job in cutting wood for a
farmer who _very liberally_ paid us for our services by giving us a
supper and a night’s lodging in his barn. Whether from the fear of us
robbing his house, or for the welfare of our safe keeping I know not,
but this I do know and well remember, that after we had gone into the
barn, he locked the door and, I suppose, put the key in his pocket. By
this ingenious precaution of safety, we had to remain whether we wanted
to or not.
On the following Sunday during our travels, probably it would seem
better to say wanderings, we met an old colored gentleman who very
kindly took us to his home, a distance of about half a mile. Our feet at
this time had become very much swollen and painful; and we were
exceedingly tired. He proved to be “a friend in need as well as a friend
indeed.” He fed us sumptuously, and took special care of us. It was our
happy lot to remain under his kind hospitality until the following
Sunday morning. As was his custom, he went to church and should have us
accompany him to the place of worship. After the service was ended, he
announced in the church that he had with him three travelers, and wanted
some of the brethren to care for them. A woman by the name of Mary
Jackson arose and said that her employers wanted a man, and if one of
them could go home with her, she thought she could get him a place. The
opportunity was too good to be lost, and there was no time to be spent
in thought. There was three of us, and one place presented, and it may
well be imagined I hastened to speak up quickly, and said I would go.
When she got ready we started, leaving my old companions in sorrow. We
had to go a distance of five miles. The week’s rest and good care, with
the expectation of obtaining work afforded strength and cheer for the
journey. This place proved to be Doe Run, in Chester County, and the
man’s name was James Pile, a farmer. When I saw him he told me he could
give me work with a compensation of four dollars a month, board, lodging
and washing. I accepted his terms, and made a bargain to work for him
until the first of the coming April. One of the boys (my former
associate) procured a situation similar to mine, and the other went to
live with a colored family to cut wood for the winter. Just two weeks
from the time we started from the land of slavery for that of freedom,
we were settled down, independently working for our own bread, and
choosing our own employers.
I remained in the employ of James Pile for nearly three months, and then
renewed the agreement for an indefinite time, for eight dollars a month.
I must mention something here with regard to a daughter of Mr. Pile’s.
It was a sight unseen by me in my southern home; and that was the
daughter of a farmer or planter standing by the side of her father’s
workmen with a hay-fork in her hand, not idly standing by to see the
work done properly, or that the men did not idle away their time, but to
share in the labor of spreading and stacking the hay. When the time came
to take it to the barn, she could do her part in pitching it on the
cart. I continued to work on this farm until September.
When I left Mr. Pile’s I went to a place called Chatham, where I hired
myself to a man by the name of Sam Hooper, as a farmer; but my
particular work was to thrash wheat. He agreed to pay me thirteen
dollars a month with board and lodging. I did not remain in his employ
very long. I worked around in different places until the month of April
of the following year, sometimes thrashing wheat, sometimes quarrying
stone and at other times cutting wood. On the 1st day of April, 1848, I
entered into an agreement with Mr. David Chambers to work for him for
eight months for ten dollars a month as a farmer. He made me his
principal farm hand, and I continued in his service until the winter of
1849. On leaving this farm I went to live with a Mr. Joshua Pusey,
another farmer, who agreed to give me fifty cents a day, a house to live
in and two acres of planting land for my own use, six months firewood,
with the use of a horse and team, and a horse to plough the ground.
Perhaps some of my readers may wonder why these additions were made to
my former contracts; why this house, this garden and firewood? I did not
wonder at it, neither will you, dear reader, when I tell you I was
making preparations to be married, and wanted a comfortable home for my
bride and self. I anticipated great things. Once a slave, but now free
and soon to be a married man. Yes, I was building airy castles in my
imagination.
As the time advanced and I was to enter upon my new contract, my hopes
grew brighter and my joys expanded. When my expectations were at their
height, three slave-holders drove up from Maryland in a team and went to
a neighboring house that was occupied by a colored man named Tom
Mitchell, knocked the door in, took the man out and drove off with him,
leaving his wife and children screaming for the loss of a fond,
industrious husband and a loving father. This Tom Mitchell was like
myself, a runaway slave and came from the same county as I did. That
kind of work thoroughly frightened me, and I resolved that I would break
the Pusey bargain and leave that region immediately.
Mitchell’s captors were drovers, and knew him as a slave and of his
whereabouts, and they made good use of their knowledge; they got fifty
dollars for him. The Quakers, moved with sympathy for the wife and
children, and knowing the worth of the captive, raised five hundred
dollars and went south, purchased his freedom and brought him back.
I had agreed to be married March the first and go housekeeping April the
first, but Mitchell’s mishap upset my plans, at least for the time
being.
I left and went to Philadelphia where I thought safety would be best
secured. I worked there as a hod carrier up to September 12, then I went
back to Chester county to fulfil my promise, not as to time, but to the
person with whom I had agreed to marry. This was in 1849. After we were
married, I took my wife to Philadelphia and went housekeeping.
I had not been long settled at housekeeping before the Fugitive Slave
Law came into full force. One day while climbing the ladder with a hod
of bricks on my shoulder, I looked down at the passers by, which was not
an uncommon thing to do, and who should I see but the son of the man
Wallace, who I had occasion to mention in my darkest days of slavery
life. I continued my course upwards until I came to the staging.
Discontent and fear would not permit me to remain there any time; to
descend by the same way I ascended might prove dangerous, as young
Wallace might still be somewhere near by, so I concluded to go down the
back way. The first impression that came to me was to seek for counsel,
so I at once notified some of the leading colored men, in whom I had
confidence, of what I had seen and of my great dilemma. They immediately
undertook to find out where he was stopping, and what his business was
in this city, through lawyer Paul Brown. His business was soon found out
and made known. He was searching for his runaway slaves, of whom I was
one. As leader of the band, I was advised to make my way into
Massachusetts, and that without much delay. “O the terror and curse of
Slavery!” I concluded to sell out the little comforts that I had
collected to make home pleasant, and leave for regions farther North,
where the foot of the slave owner doth not tread. So I thought then, but
came to know differently very soon afterwards. We sold what we could,
and what we could not dispose of had to be given away.