Running A Thousand Miles For Freedom By William And Ellen Craft

HIS HISTORY AND LITERATURE RUNNING A THOUSAND MILES FOR FREEDOM William and Ellen Craft RUNNING A THOUSAND MILES FOR FREEDOMOR, THE ESCAPE OF WILLIAM AND ELLEN CRAFT FROM SLAVERY. “Slaves cannot breathe in England: if their lungs Receive our air, that moment they are free; They touch our country, and their shackles fall.” COWPER RUNNING A THOUSAND MILES FOR FREEDOM PREFACE. HAVING heard while in Slavery that “God made of one blood all nations of men,” and also that the American Declaration of Independence says, that “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal; that they are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights; that among these, are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness;” we could not understand by what right we were held as “chattels.” Therefore, we felt perfectly justified in undertaking the dan- gerous and exciting task of “running a thousand miles” in order to obtain those rights which are so vividly set forth in the Declaration. I beg those who would know the particulars of our journey, to peruse these pages. This book is not intended as a full history of the life of my wife, nor of myself; but merely as an account of our escape; together with other matter which I hope may be the means of creating in some minds a deeper abhorrence of the sinful and abominable practice of enslaving and brutifying our fellow-creatures. Without stopping to write a long apology for offering this little volume to the public, I shall commence at once to pursue my simple story. W. CRAFT. 12, CAMBRIDGE ROAD,HAMMERSMITH,LONDON. RUNNING A THOUSAND MILES FORFREEDOM. —–+—– PART I. “God gave us only over beast, fish, fowl, Dominion absolute; that right we holdBy his donation. But man over manHe made not lord; such title to himself Reserving, human left from human free.” MILTON. MY wife and myself were born in different towns in the State of Georgia, which is one of the principal slave States. It is true, our condition as slaves was not by any means the worst; but the mere idea that we were held as chattels, and de- prived of all legal rights–the thought that we had to give up our hard earnings to a tyrant, to enable him to live in idleness and luxury–the thought that we could not call the bones and sinews that God gave us our own: but above all, the fact that another man had the power to tear from our cradle the new-born babe and sell it in the shambles like a brute, and then scourge us if we dared to lift a finger to save it from such a fate, haunted us for years. But in December, 1848, a plan suggested itself that proved quite successful, and in eight days after it was first thought of we were free from the horrible trammels of slavery, rejoicing and praising God in the glorious sunshine of liberty. My wife’s first master was her father, and her mother his slave, and the latter is still the slave of his widow. Notwithstanding my wife being of African ex- traction on her mother’s side, she is almost white– in fact, she is so nearly so that the tyrannical old lady to whom she first belonged became so annoyed, at finding her frequently mistaken for a child of the family, that she gave her when eleven years of age to a daughter, as a wedding present. This separated my wife from her mother, and also from several other dear friends. But the incessant cruelty of her old mistress made the change of owners or treatment so desirable, that she did not grumble much at this cruel separation. It may be remembered that slavery in America is not at all confined to persons of any particular complexion; there are a very large number of slaves as white as any one; but as the evidence of a slave is not admitted in court against a free white person, it is almost impossible for a white child, after having been kidnapped and sold into or re- duced to slavery, in a part of the country where it is not known (as often is the case), ever to recover its freedom. I have myself conversed with several slaves who told me that their parents were white and free; but that they were stolen away from them and sold when quite young. As they could not tell their address, and also as the parents did not know what had become of their lost and dear little ones, of course all traces of each other were gone. The following facts are sufficient to prove, that he who has the power, and is inhuman enough to trample upon the sacred rights of the weak, cares nothing for race or colour:– In March, 1818, three ships arrived at New Orleans, bringing several hundred German emi- grants from the province of Alsace, on the lower Rhine. Among them were Daniel Muller and his two daughters, Dorothea and Salome, whose mother had died on the passage. Soon after his arrival, Muller, taking with him his two daughters, both young children, went up the river to Attakapas parish, to work on the plantation of John F. Miller. A few weeks later, his relatives, who had remained at New Orleans, learned that he had died of the fever of the country. They immediately sent for the two girls; but they had disappeared, and the relatives, notwithstanding repeated and persevering inquiries and researches, could find no traces of them. They were at length given up for dead. Dorothea was never again heard of; nor was any thing known of Salome from 1818 till 1843. In the summer of that year, Madame Karl, a German woman who had come over in the same ship with the Mullers, was passing through a street in New Orleans, and accidentally saw Salome in a wine-shop, belonging to Louis Belmonte, by whom she was held as a slave. Madame Karl recognised her at once, and carried her to the house of another German woman, Mrs. Schubert, who was Salome’s cousin and godmother, and who no sooner set eyes on her than, without having any intimation that the discovery had been previously made, she un- hesitatingly exclaimed, “My God! here is the long-lost Salome Muller.” The Law Reporter, in its account of this case, says:– “As many of the German emigrants of 1818 as could be gathered together were brought to the house of Mrs. Schubert, and every one of the number who had any recollection of the little girl upon the passage, or any acquaintance with her father and mother, immediately identified the woman before them as the long-lost Salome Muller. By all these witnesses, who appeared at the trial, the identity was fully established. The family resemblance in every feature was declared to be so remarkable, that some of the witnesses did not hesitate to say that they should know her among ten thousand; that they were as certain the plaintiff was Salome Muller, the daughter of Daniel and Dorothea Muller, as of their own existence.” Among the witnesses who appeared in Court was the midwife who had assisted at the birth of Salome. She testified to the existence of certain peculiar marks upon the body of the child, which were found, exactly as described, by the surgeons who were appointed by the Court to make an examina- tion for the purpose. There was no trace of African descent in any feature of Salome Muller. She had long, straight, black hair, hazel eyes, thin lips, and a Roman nose. The complexion of her face and neck was as dark as that of the darkest brunette. It appears, however, that, during the twenty-five years of her servitude, she had been exposed to the sun’s rays in the hot climate of Louisiana, with head and neck unsheltered, as is customary with the female slaves, while labouring in the cotton or the sugar field. Those parts of her person which had been shielded from the sun were compara- tively white. Belmonte, the pretended owner of the girl, had obtained possession of her by an act of sale from John F. Miller, the planter in whose service Salome’s father died. This Miller was a man of consideration and substance, owning large sugar estates, and bearing a high reputation for honour and honesty, and for indulgent treatment of his slaves. It was testified on the trial that he had said to Belmonte, a few weeks after the sale of Salome, “that she was white, and had as much right to her freedom as any one, and was only to be retained in slavery by care and kind treatment.” The broker who negotiated the sale from Miller to Belmonte, in 1838, testified in Court that he then thought, and still thought, that the girl was white! The case was elaborately argued on both sides, but was at length decided in favour of the girl, by the Supreme Court declaring that “she was free and white, and therefore unlawfully held in bondage.” The Rev. George Bourne, of Virginia, in his Picture of Slavery, published in 1834, relates the case of a white boy who, at the age of seven, was stolen from his home in Ohio, tanned and stained in such a way that he could not be distinguished from a person of colour, and then sold as a slave in Virginia. At the age of twenty, he made his escape, by running away, and happily succeeded in rejoining his parents. I have known worthless white people to sell their own free children into slavery; and, as there are good-for-nothing white as well as coloured persons everywhere, no one, perhaps, will wonder at such inhuman transactions: particularly in the Southern States of America, where I believe there is a greater want of humanity and high principle amongst the whites, than among any other civilized people in the world. I know that those who are not familiar with the working of “the peculiar institution,” can scarcely imagine any one so totally devoid of all natural affection as to sell his own offspring into returnless bondage. But Shakespeare, that great observer of human nature, says:– “With caution judge of probabilities. Things deemed unlikely, e’en impossible, Experience often shews us to be true.” My wife’s new mistress was decidedly more humane than the majority of her class. My wife has always given her credit for not exposing her to many of the worst features of slavery. For instance, it is a common practice in the slave States for ladies, when angry with their maids, to send them to the calybuce sugar-house, or to some other place established for the purpose of punishing slaves, and have them severely flogged; and I am sorry it is a fact, that the villains to whom those de- fenceless creatures are sent, not only flog them as they are ordered, but frequently compel them to submit to the greatest indignity. Oh! if there is any one thing under the wide canopy of heaven, horrible enough to stir a man’s soul, and to make his very blood boil, it is the thought of his dear wife, his unprotected sister, or his young and virtuous daughters, struggling to save themselves from falling a prey to such demons! It always appears strange to me that any one who was not born a slaveholder, and steeped to the very core in the demoralizing atmosphere of the Southern States, can in any way palliate slavery. It is still more surprising to see virtuous ladies looking with patience upon, and remaining indif- ferent to, the existence of a system that exposes nearly two millions of their own sex in the manner I have mentioned, and that too in a professedly free and Christian country. There is, however, great consolation in knowing that God is just, and will not let the oppressor of the weak, and the spoiler of the virtuous, escape unpunished here and hereafter. I believe a similar retribution to that which destroyed Sodom is hanging over the slaveholders. My sincere prayer is that they may not provoke God, by persisting in a reckless course of wicked- ness, to pour out his consuming wrath upon them. I must now return to our history. My old master had the reputation of being a very humane and Christian man, but he thought nothing of selling my poor old father, and dear aged mother, at separate times, to different persons, to be dragged off never to behold each other again, till summoned to appear before the great tribunal of heaven. But, oh! what a happy meeting it will be on that day for those faithful souls. I say a happy meeting, because I never saw persons more devoted to the service of God than they. But how will the case stand with those reckless traffickers in human flesh and blood, who plunged the poisonous dagger of separation into those loving hearts which God had for so many years closely joined together–nay, sealed as it were with his own hands for the eternal courts of heaven? It is not for me to say what will become of those heartless tyrants. I must leave them in the hands of an all-wise and just God, who will, in his own good time, and in his own way, avenge the wrongs of his oppressed people. My old master also sold a dear brother and a sister, in the same manner as he did my father and mother. The reason he assigned for disposing of my parents, as well as of several other aged slaves, was, that “they were getting old, and would soon become valueless in the market, and therefore he intended to sell off all the old stock, and buy in a young lot.” A most disgraceful conclusion for a man to come to, who made such great professions of religion! This shameful conduct gave me a thorough hatred, not for true Christianity, but for slave- holding piety. My old master, then, wishing to make the most of the rest of his slaves, apprenticed a brother and myself out to learn trades: he to a black- smith, and myself to a cabinet-maker. If a slave has a good trade, he will let or sell for more than a person without one, and many slave- holders have their slaves taught trades on this account. But before our time expired, my old master wanted money; so he sold my brother, and then mortgaged my sister, a dear girl about four- teen years of age, and myself, then about sixteen, to one of the banks, to get money to speculate in cotton. This we knew nothing of at the moment; but time rolled on, the money became due, my master was unable to meet his payments; so the bank had us placed upon the auction stand and sold to the highest bidder. My poor sister was sold first: she was knocked down to a planter who resided at some distance in the country. Then I was called upon the stand. While the auctioneer was crying the bids, I saw the man that had purchased my sister getting her into a cart, to take her to his home. I at once asked a slave friend who was standing near the platform, to run and ask the gentleman if he would please to wait till I was sold, in order that I might have an opportunity of bidding her good-bye. He sent me word back that he had some distance to go, and could not wait. I then turned to the auctioneer, fell upon my knees, and humbly prayed him to let me just step down and bid my last sister farewell. But, instead of granting me this request, he grasped me by the neck, and in a commanding tone of voice, and with a violent oath, exclaimed, “Get up! You can do the wench no good; therefore there is no use in your seeing her.” On rising, I saw the cart in which she sat moving slowly off; and, as she clasped her hands with a grasp that indicated despair, and looked pitifully round towards me, I also saw the large silent tears trickling down her cheeks. She made a farewell bow, and buried her face in her lap. This seemed more than I could bear. It appeared to swell my aching heart to its utmost. But before I could fairly recover, the poor girl was gone;–gone, and I have never had the good for- tune to see her from that day to this! Perhaps I should have never heard of her again, had it not been for the untiring efforts of my good old mother, who became free a few years ago by pur- chase, and, after a great deal of difficulty, found my sister residing with a family in Mississippi. My mother at once wrote to me, informing me of the fact, and requesting me to do something to get her free; and I am happy to say that, partly by lecturing occasionally, and through the sale of an engraving of my wife in the disguise in which she escaped, together with the extreme kind- ness and generosity of Miss Burdett Coutts, Mr. George Richardson of Plymouth, and a few other friends, I have nearly accomplished this. It would be to me a great and ever-glorious achievement to restore my sister to our dear mother, from whom she was forcibly driven in early life. I was knocked down to the cashier of the bank to which we were mortgaged, and ordered to return to the cabinet shop where I previously worked. But the thought of the harsh auctioneer not allowing me to bid my dear sister farewell, sent red-hot indignation darting like lightning through every vein. It quenched my tears, and appeared to set my brain on fire, and made me crave for power to avenge our wrongs! But alas! we were only slaves, and had no legal rights; consequently we were compelled to smother our wounded feel- ings, and crouch beneath the iron heel of des- potism. I must now give the account of our escape; but, before doing so, it may be well to quote a few passages from the fundamental laws of slavery; in order to give some idea of the legal as well as the social tyranny from which we fled. According to the law of Louisiana, “A slave is one who is in the power of a master to whom he belongs. The master may sell him, dispose of his person, his industry, and his labour; he can do nothing, possess nothing, nor acquire anything but what must belong to his master.”–Civil Code, art. 35. In South Carolina it is expressed in the following language:–“Slaves shall be deemed, sold, taken, reputed and judged in law to be chattels personal in the hands of their owners and possessors, and their executors, administrators, and assigns, to all intents, constructions, and purposes whatsoever.– 2 Brevard’s Digest, 229. The Constitution of Georgia has the following (Art. 4, sec. 12):–“Any person who shall mali- ciously dismember or deprive a slave of life, shall suffer such punishment as would be inflicted in case the like offence had been committed on a free white person, and on the like proof, except in case of insurrection of such slave, and unless SUCH DEATH SHOULD HAPPEN BY ACCIDENT IN GIVING SUCH SLAVE MODERATE CORRECTION.”–Prince’s Digest, 559. I have known slaves to be beaten to death, but as they died under “moderate correction,” it was quite lawful; and of course the murderers were not interfered with. “If any slave, who shall be out of the house or plantation where such slave shall live, or shall be usually employed, or without some white person in company with such slave, shall REFUSE TO SUBMIT to undergo the examination of ANY WHITE person, (let him be ever so drunk or crazy), it shall be lawful for such white person to pursue, apprehend, and moderately correct such slave; and if such slave shall assault and strike such white person, such slave may be LAWFULLY KILLED.”–2 Brevard’s Digest, 231. “Provided always,” says the law, “that such striking be not done by the command and in the defence of the person or property of the owner, or other person having the government of such slave; in which case the slave shall be wholly excused.” According to this law, if a slave, by the direction of his overseer, strike a white person who is beating said overseer’s pig, “the slave shall be wholly excused.” But, should the bondman, of his own accord, fight to defend his wife, or should his terrified daughter instinctively raise her hand and strike the wretch who attempts to violate her chastity, he or she shall, saith the model republican law, suffer death. From having been myself a slave for nearly twenty-three years, I am quite prepared to say, that the practical working of slavery is worse than the odious laws by which it is governed. At an early age we were taken by the persons who held us as property to Macon, the largest town in the interior of the State of Georgia, at which place we became acquainted with each other for several years before our marriage; in fact, our marriage was postponed for some time simply because one of the unjust and worse than Pagan laws under which we lived compelled all children of slave mothers to follow their condition. That is to say, the father of the slave may be the President of the Republic; but if the mother should be a slave at the infant’s birth, the poor child is ever legally doomed to the same cruel fate. It is a common practice for gentlemen (if I may call them such), moving in the highest circles of society, to be the fathers of children by their slaves, whom they can and do sell with the greatest im- punity; and the more pious, beautiful, and virtuous the girls are, the greater the price they bring, and that too for the most infamous purposes. Any man with money (let him be ever such a rough brute), can buy a beautiful and virtuous girl, and force her to live with him in a criminal connexion; and as the law says a slave shall have no higher appeal than the mere will of the master, she cannot escape, unless it be by flight or death. In endeavouring to reconcile a girl to her fate, the master sometimes says that he would marry her if it was not unlawful.* However, he will always consider her to be his wife, and will treat her as such; and she, on the other hand, may regard him as her lawful husband; and if they have any children, they will be free and well edu- cated. I am in duty bound to add, that while a great majority of such men care nothing for the happi- ness of the women with whom they live, nor for the children of whom they are the fathers, there are those to be found, even in that heterogeneous mass of licentious monsters, who are true to their pledges. But as the woman and her children are legally the property of the man, who stands in the anomalous relation to them of husband and father, as well as master, they are liable to be seized and sold for his debts, should he become involved. There are several cases on record where such persons have been sold and separated for life. I know of some myself, but I have only space to glance at one. I knew a very humane and wealthy gentleman, that bought a woman, with whom he lived as his

• It is unlawful in the slave States for any one of purely European descent to intermarry with a person of African ex- traction; though a white man may live with as many coloured women as he pleases without materially damaging his reputa- tion in Southern society.wife. They brought up a family of children, among whom were three nearly white, well edu- cated, and beautiful girls. On the father being suddenly killed it was found that he had not left a will; but, as the family had always heard him say that he had no surviving relatives, they felt that their liberty and property were quite secured to them, and, knowing the insults to which they were exposed, now their protector was no more, they were making preparations to leave for a free State. But, poor creatures, they were soon sadly unde- ceived. A villain residing at a distance, hearing of the circumstance, came forward and swore that he was a relative of the deceased; and as this man bore, or assumed, Mr. Slator’s name, the case was brought before one of those horrible tribunals, presided over by a second Judge Jeffreys, and calling itself a court of justice, but before whom no coloured person, nor an abolitionist, was ever known to get his full rights. A verdict was given in favour of the plaintiff, whom the better portion of the community thought had wilfully conspired to cheat the family. The heartless wretch not only took the ordi- nary property, but actually had the aged and friendless widow, and all her fatherless children, except Frank, a fine young man about twenty-two years of age, and Mary, a very nice girl, a little younger than her brother, brought to the auction stand and sold to the highest bidder. Mrs. Slator had cash enough, that her husband and master left, to purchase the liberty of herself and children; but on her attempting to do so, the pusillanimous scoundrel, who had robbed them of their freedom, claimed the money as his property; and, poor creature, she had to give it up. According to law, as will be seen hereafter, a slave cannot own any- thing. The old lady never recovered from her sad affliction. At the sale she was brought up first, and after being vulgarly criticised, in the presence of all her distressed family, was sold to a cotton planter, who said he wanted the “proud old critter to go to his plantation, to look after the little woolly heads, while their mammies were working in the field.” When the sale was over, then came the separa- tion, and “O, deep was the anguish of that slave mother’s heart, When called from her darlings for ever to part; The poor mourning mother of reason bereft, Soon ended her sorrows, and sank cold in death.” Antoinette, the flower of the family, a girl who was much beloved by all who knew her, for her Christ-like piety, dignity of manner, as well as her great talents and extreme beauty, was bought by an uneducated and drunken salve-dealer. I cannot give a more correct description of the scene, when she was called from her brother to the stand, than will be found in the following lines– “Why stands she near the auction stand? That girl so young and fair; What brings her to this dismal place? Why stands she weeping there? Why does she raise that bitter cry? Why hangs her head with shame, As now the auctioneer’s rough voice So rudely calls her name! But see! she grasps a manly hand, And in a voice so low, As scarcely to be heard, she says, “My brother, must I go?” A moment’s pause: then, midst a wail Of agonizing woe, His answer falls upon the ear,– “Yes, sister, you must go! No longer can my arm defend, No longer can I save My sister from the horrid fate That waits her as a SLAVE!” Blush, Christian, blush! for e’en the dark Untutored heathen see Thy inconsistency, and lo! They scorn thy God, and thee!” The low trader said to a kind lady who wished to purchase Antoinette out of his hands, “I reckon I’ll not sell the smart critter for ten thou- sand dollars; I always wanted her for my own use.” The lady, wishing to remonstrate with him, com- menced by saying, “You should remember, Sir, that there is a just God.” Hoskens not under- standing Mrs. Huston, interrupted her by saying, “I does, and guess its monstrous kind an’ him to send such likely niggers for our convenience.” Mrs. Huston finding that a long course of reckless wickedness, drunkenness, and vice, had destroyed in Hoskens every noble impulse, left him. Antoinette, poor girl, also seeing that there was no help for her, became frantic. I can never forget her cries of despair, when Hoskens gave the order for her to be taken to his house, and locked in an upper room. On Hoskens entering the apart- ment, in a state of intoxication, a fearful struggle ensued. The brave Antoinette broke loose from him, pitched herself head foremost through the window, and fell upon the pavement below. Her bruised but unpolluted body was soon picked up–restoratives brought–doctor called in; but, alas! it was too late: her pure and noble spirit had fled away to be at rest in those realms of endless bliss, “where the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest.” Antoinette like many other noble women who are deprived of liberty, still “Holds something sacred, something undefiled; Some pledge and keepsake of their higher nature. And, like the diamond in the dark, retains Some quenchless gleam of the celestial light.” On Hoskens fully realizing the fact that his victim was no more, he exclaimed “By thunder I am a used-up man!” The sudden disappointment, and the loss of two thousand dollars, was more than he could endure: so he drank more than ever, and in a short time died, raving mad with delirium tremens. The villain Slator said to Mrs. Huston, the kind lady who endeavoured to purchase Antoinette from Hoskens, “Nobody needn’t talk to me ’bout buying them ar likely niggers, for I’m not going to sell em.” “But Mary is rather delicate,” said Mrs. Huston, “and, being unaccustomed to hard work, cannot do you much service on a plantation.” “I don’t want her for the field,” replied Slator, “but for another purpose.” Mrs. Huston understood what this meant, and instantly exclaimed, “Oh, but she is your cousin!” “The devil she is!” said Slator; and added, “Do you mean to insult me, Madam, by saying that I am related to niggers?” “No,” replied Mrs. Huston, “I do not wish to offend you, Sir. But wasn’t Mr. Slator, Mary’s father, your uncle?” “Yes, I calculate he was,” said Slator; “but I want you and everybody to understand that I’m no kin to his niggers.” “Oh, very well,” said Mrs. Huston; adding, “Now what will you take for the poor girl?” “Nothin’,” he replied; “for, as I said before, I’m not goin’ to sell, so you needn’t trouble yourself no more. If the critter behaves herself, I’ll do as well by her as any man.” Slator spoke up boldly, but his manner and sheepish look clearly indicated that “His heart within him was at strife With such accursed gains; For he knew whose passions gave her life, Whose blood ran in her veins.” “The monster led her from the door, He led her by the hand, To be his slave and paramour In a strange and distant land!” Poor Frank and his sister were handcuffed to- gether, and confined in prison. Their dear little twin brother and sister were sold, and taken where they knew not. But it often happens that mis- fortune causes those whom we counted dearest to shrink away; while it makes friends of those whom we least expected to take any interest in our affairs. Among the latter class Frank found two comparatively new but faithful friends to watch the gloomy paths of the unhappy little twins. In a day or two after the sale, Slator had two fast horses put to a large light van, and placed in it a good many small but valuable things belonging to the distressed family. He also took with him Frank and Mary, as well as all the money for the spoil; and after treating all his low friends and bystanders, and drinking deeply himself, he started in high glee for his home in South Carolina. But they had not proceeded many miles, before Frank and his sister discovered that Slator was too drunk to drive. But he, like most tipsy men, thought he was all right; and as he had with him some of the ruined family’s best brandy and wine, such as he had not been accustomed to, and being a thirsty soul, he drank till the reins fell from his fingers, and in attempting to catch them he tumbled out of the vehicle, and was unable to get up. Frank and Mary there and then contrived a plan by which to escape. As they were still handcuffed by one wrist each, they alighted, took from the drunken assassin’s pocket the key, undid the iron bracelets, and placed them upon Slator, who was better fitted to wear such ornaments. As the demon lay unconscious of what was taking place, Frank and Mary took from him the large sum of money that was realized at the sale, as well as that which Slator had so very meanly obtained from their poor mother. They then dragged him into the woods, tied him to a tree, and left the inebriated robber to shift for himself, while they made good their escape to Savannah. The fugitives being white, of course no one suspected that they were slaves. Slator was not able to call any one to his rescue till late the next day; and as there were no rail- roads in that part of the country at that time, it was not until late the following day that Slator was able to get a party to join him for the chase. A person informed Slator that he had met a man and woman, in a trap, answering to the description of those whom he had lost, driving furiously towards Savannah. So Slator and several slavehunters on horseback started off in full tilt, with their blood- hounds, in pursuit of Frank and Mary. On arriving at Savannah, the hunters found that the fugitives had sold the horses and trap, and embarked as free white persons, for New York. Slator’s disappointment and rascality so preyed upon his base mind, that he, like Judas, went and hanged himself. As soon as Frank and Mary were safe, they endeavoured to redeem their good mother. But, alas! she was gone; she had passed on to the realm of spirit life. In due time Frank learned from his friends in Georgia where his little brother and sister dwelt. So he wrote at once to purchase them, but the persons with whom they lived would not sell them. After failing in several attempts to buy them, Frank cultivated large whiskers and moustachios, cut off his hair, put on a wig and glasses, and went down as a white man, and stopped in the neighbourhood where his sister was; and after see- ing her and also his little brother, arrangements were made for them to meet at a particular place on a Sunday, which they did, and got safely off. I saw Frank myself, when he came for the little twins. Though I was then quite a lad, I well remember being highly delighted by hearing him tell how nicely he and Mary had served Slator. Frank had so completely disguised or changed his appearance that his little sister did not know him, and would not speak till he showed their mother’s likeness; the sight of which melted her to tears,–for she knew the face. Frank might have said to her “‘O, Emma! O, my sister, speak to me! Dost thou not know me, that I am thy brother? Come to me, little Emma, thou shalt dwell With me henceforth, and know no care or want.’ Emma was silent for a space, as if ‘Twere hard to summon up a human voice.” Frank and Mary’s mother was my wife’s own dear aunt. After this great diversion from our narrative, which I hope dear reader, you will excuse, I shall return at once to it. My wife was torn from her mother’s embrace in childhood, and taken to a distant part of the country. She had seen so many other children separated from their parents in this cruel man- ner, that the mere thought of her ever becoming the mother of a child, to linger out a miserable existence under the wretched system of American slavery, appeared to fill her very soul with horror; and as she had taken what I felt to be an important view of her condition, I did not, at first, press the marriage, but agreed to assist her in trying to devise some plan by which we might escape from our unhappy condition, and then be married. We thought of plan after plan, but they all seemed crowded with insurmountable difficulties. We knew it was unlawful for any public convey- ance to take us as passengers, without our master’s consent. We were also perfectly aware of the startling fact, that had we left without this consent the professional slave-hunters would have soon had their ferocious bloodhounds baying on our track, and in a short time we should have been dragged back to slavery, not to fill the more favour- able situations which we had just left, but to be separated for life, and put to the very meanest and most laborious drudgery; or else have been tortured to death as examples, in order to strike terror into the hearts of others, and thereby pre- vent them from even attempting to escape from their cruel taskmasters. It is a fact worthy of remark, that nothing seems to give the slaveholders so much pleasure as the catching and torturing of fugitives. They had much rather take the keen and poisonous lash, and with it cut their poor trembling victims to atoms, than allow one of them to escape to a free country, and expose the infamous system from which he fled. The greatest excitement prevails at a slave-hunt. The slaveholders and their hired ruffians appear to take more pleasure in this inhuman pursuit than English sportsmen do in chasing a fox or a stag. Therefore, knowing what we should have been compelled to suffer, if caught and taken back, we were more than anxious to hit upon a plan that would lead us safely to a land of liberty. But, after puzzling our brains for years, we were reluctantly driven to the sad conclusion, that it was almost impossible to escape from slavery in Georgia, and travel 1,000 miles across the slave States. We therefore resolved to get the consent of our owners, be married, settle down in slavery, and endeavour to make ourselves as comfortable as possible under that system; but at the same time ever to keep our dim eyes steadily fixed upon the glimmering hope of liberty, and earnestly pray God mercifully to assist us to escape from our unjust thraldom. We were married, and prayed and toiled on till December, 1848, at which time (as I have stated) a plan suggested itself that proved quite success- ful, and in eight days after it was first thought of we were free from the horrible trammels of slavery, and glorifying God who had brought us safely out of a land of bondage. Knowing that slaveholders have the privilege of taking their slaves to any part of the country they think proper, it occurred to me that, as my wife was nearly white, I might get her to disguise herself as an invalid gentleman, and assume to be my master, while I could attend as his slave, and that in this manner we might effect our escape. After I thought of the plan, I sug- gested it to my wife, but at first she shrank from the idea. She thought it was almost impossible for her to assume that disguise, and travel a dis- tance of 1,000 miles across the slave States. How- ever, on the other hand, she also thought of her condition. She saw that the laws under which we lived did not recognize her to be a woman, but a mere chattel, to be bought and sold, or otherwise dealt with as her owner might see fit. Therefore the more she contemplated her helpless condition, the more anxious she was to escape from it. So she said, “I think it is almost too much for us to undertake; however, I feel that God is on our side, and with his assistance, notwithstanding all the difficulties, we shall be able to succeed. There- fore, if you will purchase the disguise, I will try to carry out the plan.” But after I concluded to purchase the disguise, I was afraid to go to any one to ask him to sell me the articles. It is unlawful in Georgia for a white man to trade with slaves without the master’s con- sent. But, notwithstanding this, many persons will sell a slave any article that he can get the money to buy. Not that they sympathize with the slave, but merely because his testimony is not admitted in court against a free white person. Therefore, with little difficulty I went to dif- ferent parts of the town, at odd times, and purchased things piece by piece, (except the trowsers which she found necessary to make,) and took them home to the house where my wife resided. She being a ladies’ maid, and a favourite slave in the family, was allowed a little room to herself; and amongst other pieces of furniture which I had made in my overtime, was a chest of drawers; so when I took the articles home, she locked them up carefully in these drawers. No one about the premises knew that she had anything of the kind. So when we fancied we had everything ready the time was fixed for the flight. But we knew it would not do to start off without first getting our master’s con- sent to be away for a few days. Had we left with- out this, they would soon have had us back into slavery, and probably we should never have got another fair opportunity of even attempting to escape. Some of the best slaveholders will sometimes give their favourite slaves a few days’ holiday at Christmas time; so, after no little amount of per- severance on my wife’s part, she obtained a pass from her mistress, allowing her to be away for a few days. The cabinet-maker with whom I worked gave me a similar paper, but said that he needed my services very much, and wished me to return as soon as the time granted was up. I thanked him kindly; but somehow I have not been able to make it convenient to return yet; and, as the free air of good old England agrees so well with my wife and our dear little ones, as well as with myself, it is not at all likely we shall return at present to the “peculiar in- stitution” of chains and stripes. On reaching my wife’s cottage she handed me her pass, and I showed mine, but at that time neither of us were able to read them. It is not only unlawful for slaves to be taught to read, but in some of the States there are heavy penalties at- tached, such as fines and imprisonment, which will be vigorously enforced upon any one who is humane enough to violate the so-called law. The following case will serve to show how per- sons are treated in the most enlightened slavehold- ing community. “INDICTMENT. COMMONWEALTH OF VIRGINIA, } In the Circuit NORFOLK COUNTY, ss.} Court. TheGrand Jurors empannelled in the body of the said County on their oath present, that Margaret Doug- lass, being an evil disposed person, not having the fear of God before her eyes, but moved and insti- gated by the devil, wickedly, maliciously, and feloniously, on the fourth day of July, in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and fifty- four, at Norfolk, in said County, did teach a certain black girl named Kate to read in the Bible, to the great displeasure of Almighty God, to the per- nicious example of others in like case offending, contrary to the form of the statute in such case made and provided, and against the peace and dignity of the Commonwealth of Virginia. “VICTOR VAGABOND, Prosecuting Attorney.” “On this indictment Mrs. Douglass was arraigned as a necessary matter of form, tried, found guilty of course; and Judge Scalaway, before whom she was tried, having consulted with Dr. Adams, or- dered the sheriff to place Mrs. Douglass in the prisoner’s box, when he addressed her as follows: ‘Margaret Douglass, stand up. You are guilty of one of the vilest crimes that ever disgraced society; and the jury have found you so. You have taught a slave girl to read in the Bible. No enlightened society can exist where such offences go unpun- ished. The Court, in your case, do not feel for you one solitary ray of sympathy, and they will inflict on you the utmost penalty of the law. In any other civilized country you would have paid the forfeit of your crime with your life, and the Court have only to regret that such is not the law in this country. The sentence for your offence is, that you be imprisoned one month in the county jail, and that you pay the costs of this prosecution. Sheriff, remove the prisoner to jail.’ On the pub- lication of these proceedings, the Doctors of Divinity preached each a sermon on the necessity of obeying the laws; the New York Observer noticed with much pious gladness a revival of religion on Dr. Smith’s plantation in Georgia, among his slaves; while the Journal of Commerce commended this political preaching of the Doctors of Divinity because it favoured slavery. Let us do nothing to offend our Southern brethren.” However, at first, we were highly delighted at the idea of having gained permission to be absent for a few days; but when the thought flashed across my wife’s mind, that it was customary for travellers to register their names in the visitors’ book at hotels, as well as in the clearance or Custom-house book at Charleston, South Carolina –it made our spirits droop within us. So, while sitting in our little room upon the verge of despair, all at once my wife raised her head, and with a smile upon her face, which was a moment before bathed in tears, said, “I think I have it!” I asked what it was. She said, “I think I can make a poultice and bind up my right hand in a sling, and with propriety ask the officers to register my name for me.” I thought that would do. It then occurred to her that the smoothness of her face might betray her; so she decided to make another poultice, and put it in a white handkerchief to be worn under the chin, up the cheeks, and to tie over the head. This nearly hid the expression of the countenance, as well as the beardless chin. The poultice is left off in the engraving, because the likeness could not have been taken well with it on. My wife, knowing that she would be thrown a good deal into the company of gentlemen, fancied that she could get on better if she had something to go over the eyes; so I went to a shop and bought a pair of green spectacles. This was in the evening. We sat up all night discussing the plan, and making preparations. Just before the time arrived, in the morning, for us to leave, I cut off my wife’s hair square at the back of the head, and got her to dress in the disguise and stand out on the floor. I found that she made a most respectable looking gentleman. My wife had no ambition whatever to assume this disguise, and would not have done so had it been possible to have obtained our liberty by more simple means; but we knew it was not customary in the South for ladies to travel with male servants; and therefore, notwithstanding my wife’s fair com- plexion, it would have been a very difficult task for her to have come off as a free white lady, with me as her slave; in fact, her not being able to write would have made this quite impossible. We knew that no public conveyance would take us, or any other slave, as a passenger, without our master’s consent. This consent could never be obtained to pass into a free State. My wife’s being muffled in the poultices, &c., furnished a plausible excuse for avoiding general conversation, of which most Yankee travellers are passionately fond. There are a large number of free negroes residing in the southern States; but in Georgia (and I believe in all the slave States,) every coloured per- son’s complexion is prima facie evidence of his being a slave; and the lowest villain in the country, should he be a white man, has the legal power to arrest, and question, in the most inquisitorial and insulting manner, any coloured person, male or female, that he may find at large, particularly at night and on Sundays, without a written pass, signed by the master or some one in authority; or stamped free papers, certifying that the person is the rightful owner of himself. If the coloured person refuses to answer ques- tions put to him, he may be beaten, and his defend- ing himself against this attack makes him an outlaw, and if he be killed on the spot, the mur- derer will be exempted from all blame; but after the coloured person has answered the questions put to him, in a most humble and pointed manner, he may then be taken to prison; and should it turn out, after further examination, that he was caught where he had no permission or legal right to be, and that he has not given what they term a satis- factory account of himself, the master will have to pay a fine. On his refusing to do this, the poor slave may be legally and severely flogged by public officers. Should the prisoner prove to be a free man, he is most likely to be both whipped and fined. The great majority of slaveholders hate this class of persons with a hatred that can only be equalled by the condemned spirits of the infernal regions. They have no mercy upon, nor sympathy for, any negro whom they cannot enslave. They say that God made the black man to be a slave for the white, and act as though they really believed that all free persons of colour are in open rebellion to a direct command from heaven, and that they (the whites) are God’s chosen agents to pour out upon them unlimited vengeance. For instance, a Bill has been introduced in the Tennessee Legislature to prevent free negroes from travelling on the rail- roads in that State. It has passed the first reading. The bill provides that the President who shall permit a free negro to travel on any road within the jurisdiction of the State under his supervision shall pay a fine of 500 dollars; any conductor permitting a violation of the Act shall pay 250 dollars; provided such free negro is not under the control of a free white citizen of Tennessee, who will vouch for the character of said free negro in a penal bond of one thousand dollars. The State of Arkansas has passed a law to banish all free negroes from its bounds, and it came into effect on the 1st day of January, 1860. Every free negro found there after that date will be liable to be sold into slavery, the crime of freedom being unpardon- able. The Missouri Senate has before it a bill providing that all free negroes above the age of eighteen years who shall be found in the State after September, 1860, shall be sold into slavery; and that all such negroes as shall enter the State after September, 1861, and remain there twenty-four hours, shall also be sold into slavery for ever. Mis- sissippi, Kentucky, and Georgia, and in fact, I be- lieve, all the slave States, are legislating in the same manner. Thus the slaveholders make it almost im- possible for free persons of colour to get out of the slave States, in order that they may sell them into slavery if they don’t go. If no white persons travelled upon railroads except those who could get some one to vouch for their character in a penal bond of one thousand dollars, the railroad companies would soon go to the “wall.” Such mean legislation is too low for comment; therefore I leave the villainous acts to speak for themselves. But the Dred Scott decision is the crowning act of infamous Yankee legislation. The Supreme Court, the highest tribunal of the Republic, composed of nine Judge Jeffries’s, chosen both from the free and slave States, has decided that no coloured person, or persons of African extraction, can ever become a citizen of the United States, or have any rights which white men are bound to respect. That is to say, in the opinion of this Court, robbery, rape, and murder are not crimes when committed by a white upon a coloured person. Judges who will sneak from their high and honourable position down into the lowest depths of human depravity, and scrape up a decision like this, are wholly unworthy the confidence of any people. I believe such men would, if they had the power, and were it to their temporal interest, sell their country’s independence, and barter away every man’s birthright for a mess of pottage. Well may Thomas Campbell say– United States, your banner wears, Two emblems,–one of fame,Alas, the other that it bears Reminds us of your shame!The white man’s liberty in types Stands blazoned by your stars;But what’s the meaning of your stripes? They mean your Negro-scars. When the time had arrived for us to start, we blew out the lights, knelt down, and prayed to our Heavenly Father mercifully to assist us, as he did his people of old, to escape from cruel bondage; and we shall ever feel that God heard and answered our prayer. Had we not been sustained by a kind, and I sometimes think special, providence, we could never have overcome the mountainous difficulties which I am now about to describe. After this we rose and stood for a few moments in breathless silence,–we were afraid that some one might have been about the cottage listening and watching our movements. So I took my wife by the hand, stepped softly to the door, raised the latch, drew it open, and peeped out. Though there were trees all around the house, yet the foliage scarcely moved; in fact, everything appeared to be as still as death. I then whispered to my wife, “Come, my dear, let us make a desperate leap for liberty!” But poor thing, she shrank back, in a state of trepidation. I turned and asked what was the matter; she made no reply, but burst into violent sobs, and threw her head upon my breast. This appeared to touch my very heart, it caused me to enter into her feelings more fully than ever. We both saw the many mountainous difficulties that rose one after the other before our view, and knew far too well what our sad fate would have been, were we caught and forced back into our slavish den. Therefore on my wife’s fully realizing the solemn fact that we had to take our lives, as it were, in our hands, and contest every inch of the thousand miles of slave territory over which we had to pass, it made her heart almost sink within her, and, had I known them at that time, I would have repeated the following en- couraging lines, which may not be out of place here– “The hill, though high, I covet to ascend, The DIFFICULTY WILL NOT ME OFFEND;For I perceive the way to life lies here: Come, pluck up heart, let’s neither faint nor fear; Better, though difficult, the right way to go,– Than wrong, though easy, where the end is woe.” However, the sobbing was soon over, and after a few moments of silent prayer she recovered her self-possession, and said, “Come, William, it is getting late, so now let us venture upon our peril- ous journey.” We then opened the door, and stepped as softly out as “moonlight upon the water.” I locked the door with my own key, which I now have before me, and tiptoed across the yard into the street. I say tiptoed, because we were like persons near a totter- ing avalanche, afraid to move, or even breathe freely, for fear the sleeping tyrants should be aroused, and come down upon us with double vengeance, for daring to attempt to escape in the manner which we contemplated. We shook hands, said farewell, and started in different directions for the railway station. I took the nearest possible way to the train, for fear I should be recognized by some one, and got into the negro car in which I knew I should have to ride; but my MASTER (as I will now call my wife) took a longer way round, and only arrived there with the bulk of the passengers. He obtained a ticket for himself and one for his slave to Savannah, the first port, which was about two hundred miles off. My master then had the luggage stowed away, and stepped into one of the best carriages. But just before the train moved off I peeped through the window, and, to my great astonishment, I saw the cabinet-maker with whom I had worked so long, on the platform. He stepped up to the ticket- seller, and asked some question, and then com- menced looking rapidly through the passengers, and into the carriages. Fully believing that we were caught, I shrank into a corner, turned my face from the door, and expected in a moment to be dragged out. The cabinet-maker looked into my master’s carriage, but did not know him in his new attire, and, as God would have it, before he reached mine the bell rang, and the train moved off. I have heard since that the cabinet-maker had a pre- sentiment that we were about to “make tracks for parts unknown;” but, not seeing me, his suspicions vanished, until he received the startling intelligence that we had arrived freely in a free State. As soon as the train had left the platform, my master looked round in the carriage, and was terror-stricken to find a Mr. Cray–an old friend of my wife’s master, who dined with the family the day before, and knew my wife from childhood– sitting on the same seat. The doors of the American railway carriages are at the ends. The passengers walk up the aisle, and take seats on either side; and as my master was engaged in looking out of the window, he did not see who came in. My master’s first impression, after seeing Mr. Cray, was, that he was there for the purpose of securing him. However, my master thought it was not wise to give any information respecting him- self, and for fear that Mr. Cray might draw him into conversation and recognise his voice, my master resolved to feign deafness as the only means of self-defence. After a little while, Mr. Cray said to my master, “It is a very fine morning, sir.” The latter took no notice, but kept looking out of the window. Mr. Cray soon repeated this remark, in a little louder tone, but my master remained as before. This indifference attracted the attention of the passengers near, one of whom laughed out. This, I suppose, annoyed the old gentleman; so he said, “I will make him hear;” and in a loud tone of voice repeated, “It is a very fine morning, sir.” My master turned his head, and with a polite bow said, “Yes,” and commenced looking out of the window again. One of the gentlemen remarked that it was a very great deprivation to be deaf. “Yes,” replied Mr. Cray, “and I shall not trouble that fellow any more.” This enabled my master to breathe a little easier, and to feel that Mr. Cray was not his pur- suer after all. The gentlemen then turned the conversation upon the three great topics of discussion in first- class circles in Georgia, namely, Niggers, Cotton, and the Abolitionists. My master had often heard of abolitionists, but in such a connection as to cause him to think that they were a fearful kind of wild animal. But he was highly delighted to learn, from the gentle- men’s conversation, that the abolitionists were persons who were opposed to oppression; and therefore, in his opinion, not the lowest, but the very highest, of God’s creatures. Without the slightest objection on my master’s part, the gentlemen left the carriage at Gordon, for Milledgeville (the capital of the State). We arrived at Savannah early in the evening, and got into an omnibus, which stopped at the hotel for the passengers to take tea. I stepped into the house and brought my master something on a tray to the omnibus, which took us in due time to the steamer, which was bound for Charles- ton, South Carolina. Soon after going on board, my master turned in; and as the captain and some of the passengers seemed to think this strange, and also questioned me respecting him, my master thought I had better get out the flannels and opodeldoc which we had prepared for the rheumatism, warm them quickly by the stove in the gentleman’s saloon, and bring them to his berth. We did this as an excuse for my master’s retiring to bed so early. While at the stove one of the passengers said to me, “Buck, what have you got there?” “Opodel- doc, sir,” I replied. “I should think it’s opo- DEVIL,” said a lanky swell, who was leaning back in a chair with his heels upon the back of another, and chewing tobacco as if for a wager; “it stinks enough to kill or cure twenty men. Away with it, or I reckon I will throw it overboard!” It was by this time warm enough, so I took it to my master’s berth, remained there a little while, and then went on deck and asked the steward where I was to sleep. He said there was no place provided for coloured passengers, whether slave or free. So I paced the deck till a late hour, then mounted some cotton bags, in a warm place near the funnel, sat there till morning, and then went and assisted my master to get ready for breakfast. He was seated at the right hand of the captain, who, together with all the passengers, inquired very kindly after his health. As my master had one hand in a sling, it was my duty to carve his food. But when I went out the captain said, “You have a very attentive boy, sir; but you had better watch him like a hawk when you get on to the North. He seems all very well here, but he may act quite differently there. I know several gentlemen who have lost their valuable niggers among them d—-d cut-throat abolitionists.” Before my master could speak, a rough slave- dealer, who was sitting opposite, with both elbows on the table, and with a large piece of broiled fowl in his fingers, shook his head with emphasis, and in a deep Yankee tone, forced through his crowded mouth the words, “Sound doctrine, captain, very sound.” He then dropped the chicken into the plate, leant back, placed his thumbs in the armholes of his fancy waistcoat, and continued, “I would not take a nigger to the North under no consideration. I have had a deal to do with niggers in my time, but I never saw one who ever had his heel upon free soil that was worth a d—-n.” “Now stranger,” addressing my master, “if you have made up your mind to sell that ere nigger, I am your man; just mention your price, and if it isn’t out of the way, I will pay for him on this board with hard silver dollars.” This hard-featured, bristly-bearded, wire-headed, red-eyed monster, staring at my master as the serpent did at Eve, said, “What do you say, stranger?” He replied, “I don’t wish to sell, sir; I cannot get on well with- out him.” “You will have to get on without him if you take him to the North,” continued this man; “for I can tell ye, stranger, as a friend, I am an older cove than you, I have seen lots of this ere world, and I reckon I have had more dealings with niggers than any man living or dead. I was once employed by General Wade Hampton, for ten years, in doing nothing but breaking ’em in; and everybody knows that the General would not have a man that didn’t understand his business. So I tell ye, stranger, again, you had better sell, and let me take him down to Orleans. He will do you no good if you take him across Mason’s and Dixon’s line; he is a keen nigger, and I can see from the cut of his eye that he is certain to run away.” My master said, “I think not, sir; I have great confidence in his fidelity.” “FiDEVIL,” indignantly said the dealer, as his fist came down upon the edge of the saucer and upset a cup of hot coffee in a gentleman’s lap. (As the scalded man jumped up the trader quietly said, “Don’t disturb yourself, neighbour; accidents will happen in the best of families.”) “It always makes me mad to hear a man talking about fidelity in niggers. There isn’t a d—-d one on ’em who wouldn’t cut sticks, if he had half a chance.” By this time we were near Charleston; my master thanked the captain for his advice, and they all withdrew and went on deck, where the trader fancied he became quite eloquent. He drew a crowd around him, and with emphasis said, “Cap’en, if I was the President of this mighty United States of America, the greatest and freest country under the whole universe, I would never let no man, I don’t care who he is, take a nigger into the North and bring him back here, filled to the brim, as he is sure to be, with d—-d abolition vices, to taint all quiet niggers with the hellish spirit of running away. These air, cap’en, my flat-footed, every day, right up and down sentiments, and as this is a free country, cap’en, I don’t care who hears ’em; for I am a Southern man, every inch on me to the back- bone.” “Good!” said an insignificant-looking individual of the slave-dealer stamp. “Three cheers for John C. Calhoun and the whole fair sunny South!” added the trader. So off went their hats, and out burst a terrific roar of irregular but con- tinued cheering. My master took no more notice of the dealer. He merely said to the captain that the air on deck was too keen for him, and he would therefore return to the cabin. While the trader was in the zenith of his elo- quence, he might as well have said, as one of his kit did, at a great Filibustering meeting, that “When the great American Eagle gets one of his mighty claws upon Canada and the other into South America, and his glorious and starry wings of liberty extending from the Atlantic to the Pacific, oh! then, where will England be, ye gen- tlemen? I tell ye, she will only serve as a pocket- handkerchief for Jonathan to wipe his nose with.” On my master entering the cabin he found at the breakfast-table a young southern military officer, with whom he had travelled some distance the pre- vious day. After passing the usual compliments the conver- sation turned upon the old subject,–niggers. The officer, who was also travelling with a man- servant, said to my master, “You will excuse me, Sir, for saying I think you are very likely to spoil your boy by saying ‘thank you’ to him. I assure you, sir, nothing spoils a slave so soon as saying, ‘thank you’ and ‘if you please’ to him. The only way to make a nigger toe the mark, and to keep him in his place, is to storm at him like thunder, and keep him trembling like a leaf. Don’t you see, when I speak to my Ned, he darts like lightning; and if he didn’t I’d skin him.” Just then the poor dejected slave came in, and the officer swore at him fearfully, merely to teach my master what he called the proper way to treat me. After he had gone out to get his master’s lug- gage ready, the officer said, “That is the way to speak to them. If every nigger was drilled in this manner, they would be as humble as dogs, and never dare to run away. The gentleman urged my master not to go to the North for the restoration of his health, but to visit the Warm Springs in Arkansas. My master said, he thought the air of Phila- delphia would suit his complaint best; and, not only so, he thought he could get better advice there. The boat had now reached the wharf. The officer wished my master a safe and pleasant jour- ney, and left the saloon. There were a large number of persons on the quay waiting the arrival of the steamer: but we were afraid to venture out for fear that some one might recognize me; or that they had heard that we were gone, and had telegraphed to have us stopped. However, after remaining in the cabin till all the other passengers were gone, we had our luggage placed on a fly, and I took my master by the arm, and with a little difficulty he hobbled on shore, got in and drove off to the best hotel, which John C. Calhoun, and all the other great southern fire-eating statesmen, made their head-quarters while in Charleston. On arriving at the house the landlord ran out and opened the door: but judging, from the poul- tices and green glasses, that my master was an invalid, he took him very tenderly by one arm and ordered his man to take the other. My master then eased himself out, and with their assistance found no trouble in getting up the steps into the hotel. The proprietor made me stand on one side, while he paid my master the attention and homage he thought a gentleman of his high position merited. My master asked for a bed-room. The servant was ordered to show a good one, into which we helped him. The servant returned. My master then handed me the bandages, I took them down- stairs in great haste, and told the landlord my master wanted two hot poultices as quickly as possible. He rang the bell, the servant came in, to whom he said, “Run to the kitchen and tell the cook to make two hot poultices right off, for there is a gentleman upstairs very badly off indeed!” In a few minutes the smoking poultices were brought in. I placed them in white handker- chiefs, and hurried upstairs, went into my master’s apartment, shut the door, and laid them on the mantel-piece. As he was alone for a little while, he thought he could rest a great deal better with the poultices off. However, it was necessary to have them to complete the remainder of the journey. I then ordered dinner, and took my master’s boots out to polish them. While doing so I en- tered into conversation with one of the slaves. I may state here, that on the sea-coast of South Carolina and Georgia the slaves speak worse Eng- lish than in any other part of the country. This is owing to the frequent importation, or smug- gling in, of Africans, who mingle with the natives. Consequently the language cannot properly be called English or African, but a corruption of the two. The shrewd son of African parents to whom I referred said to me, “Say, brudder, way you come from, and which side you goin day wid dat ar little don up buckra” (white man)? I replied, “To Philadelphia.” “What!” he exclaimed, with astonishment, “to Philumadelphy?” “Yes,” I said. “By squash! I wish I was going wid you! I hears um say dat dare’s no slaves way over in dem parts; is um so?” I quietly said, “I have heard the same thing.” “Well,” continued he, as he threw down the boot and brush, and, placing his hands in his pockets, strutted across the floor with an air of independence–“Gorra Mighty, dem is de parts for Pompey; and I hope when you get dare you will stay, and nebber follow dat buckra back to dis hot quarter no more, let him be eber so good.” I thanked him; and just as I took the boots up and started off, he caught my hand between his two, and gave it a hearty shake, and, with tears streaming down his cheeks, said:– “God bless you, broder, and may de Lord be wid you. When you gets de freedom, and sitin under your own wine and fig-tree, don’t forget to pray for poor Pompey.” I was afraid to say much to him, but I shall never forget his earnest request, nor fail to do what little I can to release the millions of unhappy bondmen, of whom he was one. At the proper time my master had the poultices placed on, came down, and seated himself at a table in a very brilliant dining-room, to have his dinner. I had to have something at the same time, in order to be ready for the boat; so they gave me my dinner in an old broken plate, with a rusty knife and fork, and said, “Here, boy, you go in the kitchen.” I took it and went out, but did not stay more than a few minutes, because I was in a great hurry to get back to see how the invalid was getting on. On arriving I found two or three servants waiting on him; but as he did not feel able to make a very hearty dinner, he soon finished, paid the bill, and gave the servants each a trifle, which caused one of them to say to me, “Your massa is a big bug”–meaning a gentleman of distinction– “he is the greatest gentleman dat has been dis way for dis six months.” I said, “Yes, he is some pumpkins,” meaning the same as “big bug.” When we left Macon, it was our intention to take a steamer at Charleston through to Phila- delphia; but on arriving there we found that the vessels did not run during the winter, and I have no doubt it was well for us they did not; for on the very last voyage the steamer made that we intended to go by, a fugitive was discovered secreted on board, and sent back to slavery. However, as we had also heard of the Overland Mail Route, we were all right. So I ordered a fly to the door, had the luggage placed on; we got in, and drove down to the Custom-house Office, which was near the wharf where we had to obtain tickets, to take a steamer for Wilmington, North Carolina. When we reached the building, I helped my master into the office, which was crowded with passengers. He asked for a ticket for himself and one for his slave to Philadelphia. This caused the prin- cipal officer–a very mean-looking, cheese-coloured fellow, who was sitting there–to look up at us very suspiciously, and in a fierce tone of voice he said to me, “Boy, do you belong to that gentleman?” I quickly replied, “Yes, sir” (which was quite correct). The tickets were handed out, and as my master was paying for them the chief man said to him, “I wish you to register your name here, sir, and also the name of your nigger, and pay a dollar duty on him.” My master paid the dollar, and pointing to the hand that was in the poultice, requested the officer to register his name for him. This seemed to offend the “high-bred” South Carolinian. He jumped up, shaking his head; and, cramming his hands almost through the bottom of his trousers pockets, with a slave-bullying air, said, “I shan’t do it.” This attracted the attention of all the passengers. Just then the young military officer with whom my master travelled and conversed on the steamer from Savannah stepped in, somewhat the worse for brandy; he shook hands with my master, and pre- tended to know all about him. He said, “I know his kin (friends) like a book;” and as the officer was known in Charleston, and was going to stop there with friends, the recognition was very much in my master’s favor. The captain of the steamer, a good-looking, jovial fellow, seeing that the gentleman appeared to know my master, and perhaps not wishing to lose us as passengers, said in an off-hand sailor-like manner, “I will register the gentleman’s name, and take the responsibility upon myself.” He asked my master’s name. He said, “William Johnson.” The names were put down, I think, “Mr. Johnson and slave.” The captain said, “It’s all right now, Mr. Johnson.” He thanked him kindly, and the young officer begged my master to go with him, and have something to drink and a cigar; but as he had not acquired these accomplishments, he excused him- self, and we went on board and came off to Wil- mington, North Carolina. When the gentleman finds out his mistake, he will, I have no doubt, be careful in future not to pretend to have an intimate acquaintance with an entire stranger. During the voyage the captain said, “It was rather sharp shooting this morning, Mr. Johnson. It was not out of any disrespect to you, sir; but they make it a rule to be very strict at Charleston. I have known families to be detained there with their slaves till reliable information could be received respecting them. If they were not very careful, any d—-d abolitionist might take off a lot of valuable niggers.” My master said, “I suppose so,” and thanked him again for helping him over the difficulty. We reached Wilmington the next morning, and took the train for Richmond, Virginia. I have stated that the American railway carriages (or cars, as they are called), are constructed differently to those in England. At one end of some of them, in the South, there is a little apartment with a couch on both sides for the convenience of families and invalids; and as they thought my master was very poorly, he was allowed to enter one of these apartments at Petersburg, Virginia, where an old gentleman and two handsome young ladies, his daughters, also got in, and took seats in the same carriage. But before the train started, the gentle- man stepped into my car, and questioned me respect- ing my master. He wished to know what was the matter with him, where he was from, and where he was going. I told him where he came from, and said that he was suffering from a complication of complaints, and was going to Philadelphia, where he thought he could get more suitable advice than in Georgia. The gentleman said my master could obtain the very best advice in Philadelphia. Which turned out to be quite correct, though he did not receive it from physicians, but from kind abolitionists who understood his case much better. The gentleman also said, “I reckon your master’s father hasn’t any more such faithful and smart boys as you.” “O, yes, sir, he has,” I replied, “lots on ’em.” Which was literally true. This seemed all he wished to know. He thanked me, gave me a ten-cent piece, and requested me to be attentive to my good master. I promised that I would do so, and have ever since endeavoured to keep my pledge. During the gentleman’s absence, the ladies and my master had a little cosy chat. But on his return, he said, “You seem to be very much afflicted, sir.” “Yes, sir,” replied the gentleman in the poultices. “What seems to be the matter with you, sir; may I be allowed to ask?” “Inflammatory rheumatism, sir.” “Oh! that is very bad, sir,” said the kind gentleman: “I can sympathise with you; for I know from bitter experience what the rheumatism is.” If he did, he knew a good deal more than Mr. Johnson. The gentleman thought my master would feel better if he would lie down and rest himself; and as he was anxious to avoid conversation, he at once acted upon this suggestion. The ladies politely rose, took their extra shawls, and made a nice pillow for the invalid’s head. My master wore a fashionable cloth cloak, which they took and covered him comfortably on the couch. After he had been lying a little while the ladies, I suppose, thought he was asleep; so one of them gave a long sigh, and said, in a quiet fascinating tone, “Papa, he seems to be a very nice young gentleman.” But before papa could speak, the other lady quickly said, “Oh! dear me, I never felt so much for a gentleman in my life!” To use an American expression, “they fell in love with the wrong chap.” After my master had been lying a little while he got up, the gentleman assisted him in getting on his cloak, the ladies took their shawls, and soon they were all seated. They then insisted upon Mr. Johnson taking some of their refreshments, which of course he did, out of courtesy to the ladies. All went on enjoying themselves until they reached Richmond, where the ladies and their father left the train. But, before doing so, the good old Virginian gentleman, who appeared to be much pleased with my master, presented him with a recipe, which he said was a perfect cure for the inflammatory rheumatism. But the invalid not being able to read it, and fearing he should hold it upside down in pretending to do so, thanked the donor kindly, and placed it in his waistcoat pocket. My master’s new friend also gave him his card, and requested him the next time he travelled that way to do him the kindness to call; adding, “I shall be pleased to see you, and so will my daughters.” Mr. Johnson expressed his gratitude for the prof- fered hospitality, and said he should feel glad to call on his return. I have not the slightest doubt that he will fulfil the promise whenever that return takes place. After changing trains we went on a little beyond Fredericksburg, and took a steamer to Washington. At Richmond, a stout elderly lady, whose whole demeanour indicated that she belonged (as Mrs. Stowe’s Aunt Chloe expresses it) to one of the “firstest families,” stepped into the carriage, and took a seat near my master. Seeing me passing quickly along the platform, she sprang up as if taken by a fit, and exclaimed, “Bless my soul! there goes my nigger, Ned!” My master said, “No; that is my boy.” The lady paid no attention to this; she poked her head out of the window, and bawled to me, “You Ned, come to me, sir, you runaway rascal!” On my looking round she drew her head in, and said to my master, “I beg your pardon, sir, I was sure it was my nigger; I never in my life saw two black pigs more alike than your boy and my Ned.” After the disappointed lady had resumed her seat, and the train had moved off, she closed her eyes, slightly raising her hands, and in a sanctified tone said to my master, “Oh! I hope, sir, your boy will not turn out to be so worthless as my Ned has. Oh! I was as kind to him as if he had been my own son. Oh! sir, it grieves me very much to think that after all I did for him he should go off without having any cause whatever.” “When did he leave you?” asked Mr. Johnson. “About eighteen months ago, and I have never seen hair or hide of him since.” “Did he have a wife?” enquired a very respect- able-looking young gentleman, who was sitting near my master and opposite to the lady. “No, sir; not when he left, though he did have one a little before that. She was very unlike him; she was as good and as faithful a nigger as any one need wish to have. But, poor thing! she became so ill, that she was unable to do much work; so I thought it would be best to sell her, to go to New Orleans, where the climate is nice and warm.” “I suppose she was very glad to go South for the restoration of her health?” said the gentleman. “No; she was not,” replied the lady, “for niggers never know what is best for them. She took on a great deal about leaving Ned and the little nigger; but, as she was so weakly, I let her go.” “Was she good-looking?” asked the young pas- senger, who was evidently not of the same opinion as the talkative lady, and therefore wished her to tell all she knew. “Yes; she was very handsome, and much whiter than I am; and therefore will have no trouble in getting another husband. I am sure I wish her well. I asked the speculator who bought her to sell her to a good master. Poor thing! she has my prayers, and I know she prays for me. She was a good Christian, and always used to pray for my soul. It was through her earliest prayers,” con- tinued the lady, “that I was first led to seek for- giveness of my sins, before I was converted at the great camp-meeting.” This caused the lady to snuffle and to draw from her pocket a richly embroidered handkerchief, and apply it to the corner of her eyes. But my master could not see that it was at all soiled.