_My first adventure for liberty.--Parting Scene.--Journey up the
river.--Safe arrival in Cincinnati.--Journey to Canada.--Suffering
from cold and hunger.--Denied food and shelter by some.--One noble
exception.--Subsequent success.--Arrival at Perrysburgh.--I obtained
employment through the winter.--My return to Kentucky to get my
family._
In the fall or winter of 1837 I formed a resolution that I would
escape, if possible, to Canada, for my Liberty. I commenced from that
hour making preparations for the dangerous experiment of breaking the
chains that bound me as a slave. My preparation for this voyage
consisted in the accumulation of a little money, perhaps not exceeding
two dollars and fifty cents, and a suit which I had never been seen or
known to wear before; this last was to avoid detection.
On the twenty-fifth of December, 1837, my long anticipated time had
arrived when I was to put into operation my former resolution, which
was to bolt for Liberty or consent to die a Slave. I acted upon the
former, although I confess it to be one of the most self-denying acts
of my whole life, to take leave of an affectionate wife, who stood
before me on my departure, with dear little Frances in her arms, and
with tears of sorrow in her eyes as she bid me a long farewell. It
required all the moral courage that I was master of to suppress my
feelings while taking leave of my little family.
Had Malinda known my intention at that time, it would not have been
possible for me to have got away, and I might have this day been a
slave. Notwithstanding every inducement was held out to me to run away
if I would be free, and the voice of liberty was thundering in my very
soul, "Be free, oh, man! be free," I was struggling against a thousand
obstacles which had clustered around my mind to bind my wounded spirit
still in the dark prison of mental degradation. My strong attachments
to friends and relatives, with all the love of home and birth-place
which is so natural among the human family, twined about my heart and
were hard to break away from. And withal, the fear of being pursued
with guns and blood-hounds, and of being killed, or captured and
taken to the extreme South, to linger out my days in hopeless bondage
on some cotton or sugar plantation, all combined to deter me. But I
had counted the cost, and was fully prepared to make the sacrifice.
The time for fulfilling my pledge was then at hand. I must forsake
friends and neighbors, wife and child, or consent to live and die a
slave.
By the permission of my keeper, I started out to work for myself on
Christmas. I went to the Ohio River, which was but a short distance
from Bedford. My excuse for wanting to go there was to get work. High
wages were offered for hands to work in a slaughter-house. But in
place of my going to work there, according to promise, when I arrived
at the river I managed to find a conveyance to cross over into a free
state. I was landed in the village of Madison, Indiana, where
steamboats were landing every day and night, passing up and down the
river, which afforded me a good opportunity of getting a boat passage
to Cincinnati. My anticipation being worked up to the highest pitch,
no sooner was the curtain of night dropped over the village, than I
secreted myself where no one could see me, and changed my suit ready
for the passage. Soon I heard the welcome sound of a Steamboat coming
up the river Ohio, which was soon to waft me beyond the limits of the
human slave markets of Kentucky. When the boat had landed at Madison,
notwithstanding my strong desire to get off, my heart trembled within
me in view of the great danger to which I was exposed in taking
passage on board of a Southern Steamboat; hence before I took passage,
I kneeled down before the Great I Am, and prayed for his aid and
protection, which He bountifully bestowed even beyond my expectation;
for I felt myself to be unworthy. I then stept boldly on the deck of
this splendid swift-running Steamer, bound for the city of Cincinnati.
This being the first voyage that I had ever taken on board of a
Steamboat, I was filled with fear and excitement, knowing that I was
surrounded by the vilest enemies of God and man, liable to be seized
and bound hand and foot, by any white man, and taken back into
captivity. But I crowded myself back from the light among the deck
passengers, where it would be difficult to distinguish me from a white
man. Every time during the night that the mate came round with a
light after the hands, I was afraid he would see I was a colored man,
and take me up; hence I kept from the light as much as possible. Some
men love darkness rather than light, because their deeds are evil; but
this was not the case with myself; it was to avoid detection in doing
right. This was one of the instances of my adventures that my affinity
with the Anglo-Saxon race, and even slaveholders, worked well for my
escape. But no thanks to them for it. While in their midst they have
not only robbed me of my labor and liberty, but they have almost
entirely robbed me of my dark complexion. Being so near the color of a
slaveholder, they could not, or did not find me out that night among
the white passengers. There was one of the deck hands on board called
out on his watch, whose hammock was swinging up near by me. I asked
him if he would let me lie in it. He said if I would pay him
twenty-five cents that I might lie in it until day. I readily paid him
the price and got into the hammock. No one could see my face to know
whether I was white or colored, while I was in the hammock; but I
never closed my eyes for sleep that night. I had often heard of
explosions on board of Steamboats; and every time the boat landed, and
blowed off steam, I was afraid the boilers had bursted and we should
all be killed; but I lived through the night amid the many dangers to
which I was exposed. I still maintained my position in the hammock,
until the next morning about 8 o'clock, when I heard the passengers
saying the boat was near Cincinnati; and by this time I supposed that
the attention of the people would be turned to the city, and I might
pass off unnoticed.
There were no questions asked me while on board the boat. The boat
landed about 9 o'clock in the morning in Cincinnati, and I waited
until after most of the passengers had gone off of the boat; I then
walked as gracefully up street as if I was not running away, until I
had got pretty well up Broadway. My object was to go to Canada, but
having no knowledge of the road, it was necessary for me to make some
inquiry before I left the city. I was afraid to ask a white person,
and I could see no colored person to ask. But fortunately for me I
found a company of little boys at play in the street, and through
these little boys, by asking them indirect questions, I found the
residence of a colored man.
"Boys, can you tell me where that old colored man lives who saws wood,
and works at jobs around the streets?"
"What is his name?" said one of the boys.
"I forget."
"Is it old Job Dundy?"
"Is Dundy a colored man?"
"Yes, sir."
"That is the very man I am looking for; will you show me where he
lives?"
"Yes," said the little boy, and pointed me out the house.
Mr. D. invited me in, and I found him to be a true friend. He asked me
if I was a slave from Kentucky, and if I ever intended to go back into
slavery? Not knowing yet whether he was truly in favor of slaves
running away, I told him that I had just come over to spend my
christmas holydays, and that I was going back. His reply was, "my son,
I would never go back if I was in your place; you have a right to your
liberty." I then asked him how I should get my freedom? He referred me
to Canada, over which waved freedom's flag, defended by the British
Government, upon whose soil there cannot be the foot print of a slave.
He then commenced telling me of the facilities for my escape to
Canada; of the Abolitionists; of the Abolition Societies, and of their
fidelity to the cause of suffering humanity. This was the first time
in my life that ever I had heard of such people being in existence as
the Abolitionists. I supposed that they were a different race of
people. He conducted me to the house of one of these warm-hearted
friends of God and the slave. I found him willing to aid a poor
fugitive on his way to Canada, even to the dividing of the last cent,
or morsel of bread if necessary.
These kind friends gave me something to eat and started me on my way
to Canada, with a recommendation to a friend on my way. This was the
commencement of what was called the under ground rail road to Canada.
I walked with bold courage, trusting in the arm of Omnipotence; guided
by the unchangable North Star by night, and inspired by an elevated
thought that I was fleeing from a land of slavery and oppression,
bidding farewell to handcuffs, whips, thumb-screws and chains.
I travelled on until I had arrived at the place where I was directed
to call on an Abolitionist, but I made no stop: so great were my fears
of being pursued by the pro-slavery hunting dogs of the South. I
prosecuted my journey vigorously for nearly forty-eight hours without
food or rest, struggling against external difficulties such as no one
can imagine who has never experienced the same: not knowing what
moment I might be captured while travelling among strangers, through
cold and fear, breasting the north winds, being thinly clad, pelted by
the snow storms through the dark hours of the night and not a house in
which I could enter to shelter me from the storm.
The second night from Cincinnati, about midnight, I thought that I
should freeze; my shoes were worn through, and my feet were exposed to
the bare ground. I approached a house on the road-side, knocked at the
door, and asked admission to their fire, but was refused. I went to
the next house, and was refused the privilege of their fire-side, to
prevent my freezing. This I thought was hard treatment among the human
family. But--
"Behind a frowning Providence there was a smiling face,"
which soon shed beams of light upon unworthy me.
The next morning I was still found struggling on my way faint, hungry,
lame, and rest-broken. I could see people taking breakfast from the
road-side, but I did not dare to enter their houses to get my
breakfast, for neither love nor money. In passing a low cottage, I saw
the breakfast table spread with all its bounties, and I could see no
male person about the house; the temptation for food was greater than
I could resist.
I saw a lady about the table, and I thought that if she was ever so
much disposed to take me up, that she would have to catch and hold me,
and that would have been impossible. I stepped up to the door with my
hat off, and asked her if she would be good enough to sell me a
sixpence worth of bread and meat. She cut off a piece and brought it
to me; I thanked her for it, and handed her the pay, but instead of
receiving it, she burst into tears, and said "never mind the money,"
but gently turned away bidding me go on my journey. This was
altogether unexpected to me: I had found a friend in the time of need
among strangers, and nothing could be more cheering in the day of
trouble than this. When I left that place I started with bolder
courage. The next night I put up at a tavern, and continued stopping
at public houses until my means were about gone. When I got to the
Black Swamp in the county of Wood, Ohio, I stopped one night at a
hotel, after travelling all day through mud and snow; but I soon found
that I should not be able to pay my bill. This was about the time that
the "wild-cat banks" were in a flourishing state, and "shin
plasters"[3] in abundance; they would charge a dollar for one night's
lodging.
After I had found out this, I slipped out of the bar room into the
kitchen where the landlady was getting supper; as she had quite a
number of travellers to cook for that night, I told her if she would
accept my services, I would assist her in getting supper; that I was a
cook. She very readily accepted the offer, and I went to work.
She was very much pleased with my work, and the next morning I helped
her to get breakfast. She then wanted to hire me for all winter, but I
refused for fear I might be pursued. My excuse to her was that I had a
brother living in Detroit, whom I was going to see on some important
business, and after I got that business attended to, I would come back
and work for them all winter.
When I started the second morning they paid me fifty cents beside my
board, with the understanding that I was to return; but I have not
gone back yet.
I arrived the next morning in the village of Perrysburgh, where I
found quite a settlement of colored people, many of whom were fugitive
slaves. I made my case known to them and they sympathized with me. I
was a stranger, and they took me in and persuaded me to spend the
winter in Perrysburgh, where I could get employment and go to Canada
the next spring, in a steamboat which run from Perrysburgh, if I
thought it proper so to do.
I got a job of chopping wood during that winter which enabled me to
purchase myself a suit, and after paying my board the next spring, I
had saved fifteen dollars in cash. My intention was to go back to
Kentucky after my wife.
When I got ready to start, which was about the first of May, my
friends all persuaded me not to go, but to get some other person to
go, for fear I might be caught and sold off from my family into
slavery forever. But I could not refrain from going back myself,
believing that I could accomplish it better than a stranger.
The money that I had would not pass in the South, and for the purpose
of getting it off to a good advantage, I took a steamboat passage to
Detroit, Michigan, and there I spent all my money for dry goods, to
peddle out on my way back through the State of Ohio. I also purchased
myself a pair of false whiskers to put on when I got back to Kentucky,
to prevent any one from knowing me after night, should they see me. I
then started back after my little family.
FOOTNOTES:
[3] Nickname for temporary paper money.