[Illustration: Letter from Susan B. Anthony, January, 1903. ]

HARRIET

THE MOSES OF HER PEOPLE

By

SARAH H. BRADFORD

 "Farewell, ole Marster, don't think hard of me, I'm going on to Canada, where all de slaves are free. "

 "Jesus, Jesus will go wid you, He will lead you to His throne, He who died has gone before you, Trod de wine-press all alone. "

COPYRIGHT, 1886, BY SARAH H. BRADFORD. 

PREFACE. 

The title I have given my black heroine, in this second edition ofher story, viz. : THE MOSES OF HER PEOPLE, may seem a littleambitious, considering that this Moses was a woman, and that shesucceeded in piloting only three or four hundred slaves from theland of bondage to the land of freedom. 

But I only give her here the name by which she was familiarlyknown, both at the North and the South, during the years of terrorof the Fugitive Slave Law, and during our last Civil War, in bothof which she took so prominent a part. 

And though the results of her unexampled heroism were not to freea whole nation of bond-men and bond-women, yet this object was asmuch the desire of her heart, as it was of that of the greatleader of Israel. Her cry to the slave-holders, was ever like histo Pharaoh, "Let my people go!" and not even he imperiled life andlimb more willingly, than did our courageous and self-sacrificingfriend. 

Her name deserves to be handed down to posterity, side by sidewith the names of Jeanne D'Arc, Grace Darling, and FlorenceNightingale, for not one of these women, noble and brave as theywere, has shown more courage, and power of endurance, in facingdanger and death to relieve human suffering, than this poor blackwoman, whose story I am endeavoring in a most imperfect way togive you. 

Would that Mrs. Stowe had carried out the plan she once projected, of being the historian of our sable friend; by her graphic pen, the incidents of such a life might have been wrought up into atale of thrilling interest, equaling, if not exceeding her worldrenowned "Uncle Tom's Cabin. "

The work fell to humbler hands, and the first edition of thisstory, under the title of "Harriet Tubman, " was written in thegreatest possible haste, while the writer was preparing for avoyage to Europe. There was pressing need for this book, to savethe poor woman's little home from being sold under a mortgage, andletters and facts were penned down rapidly, as they came in. Thebook has now been in part re-written and the letters andtestimonials placed in an appendix. 

For the satisfaction of the incredulous (and there will naturallybe many such, when so strange a tale is repeated to them), I willhere state that so far as it has been possible, I have receivedcorroboration of every incident related to me by my heroic friend. I did this for the satisfaction of others, not for my own. No onecan hear Harriet talk, and not believe every word she says. As Mr. Sanborn says of her, "she is too _real_ a person, not to be true. "

Many incidents quite as wonderful as those related in the story, Ihave rejected, because I had no way in finding the persons whocould speak to their truth. 

This woman was the friend of William H. Seward, of Gerritt Smith, of Wendell Phillips, of William Lloyd Garrison, and of many otherdistinguished philanthropists before the War, as of very manyofficers of the Union Army during the conflict. 

After her almost superhuman efforts in making her own escape fromslavery, and then returning to the South _nineteen times_, andbringing away with her over three hundred fugitives, she was sentby Governor Andrew of Massachusetts to the South at the beginningof the War, to act as spy and scout for our armies, and to beemployed as hospital nurse when needed. 

Here for four years she labored without any remuneration, andduring the time she was acting as nurse, never drew but twentydays' rations from our Government. She managed to support herself, as well as to take care of the suffering soldiers. 

Secretary Seward exerted himself in every possible way to procureher a pension from Congress, but red-tape proved too strong evenfor him, and her case was rejected, because it did not come underany recognized law. 

The first edition of this little story was published through theliberality of Gerritt Smith, Wendell Phillips, and prominent menin Auburn, and the object for which it was written wasaccomplished. But that book has long been out of print, and thefacts stated there are all unknown to the present generation. There have, I am told, often been calls for the book, which couldnot be answered, and I have been urged by many friends as well asby Harriet herself, to prepare another edition. For anothernecessity has arisen and she needs help again not for herself, butfor certain helpless ones of her people. 

Her own sands are nearly run, but she hopes, 'ere she goes home, to see this work, a hospital, well under way. Her last breath andher last efforts will be spent in the cause of those for whom shehas already risked so much. 

 For them her tears will fall, For them her prayers ascend; To them her toils and cares be given, Till toils and cares shall end. S. H. B. 

Letter from Mr. Oliver Johnson for the second edition:

 NEW YORK, _March 6_, 1886. 

MY DEAR MADAM:

I am very glad to learn that you are about to publish a revisededition of your life of that heroic woman, Harriet Tubman, bywhose assistance so many American slaves were enabled to breaktheir bonds. 

During the period of my official connection with the Anti-Slaveryoffice in New York, I saw her frequently, when she came there withthe companies of slaves, whom she had successfully piloted awayfrom the South; and often listened with wonder to the story ofher adventures and hair-breadth escapes. 

She always told her tale with a modesty which showed howunconscious she was of having done anything more than her simpleduty. No one who listened to her could doubt her perfecttruthfulness and integrity. 

Her shrewdness in planning the escape of slaves, her skill inavoiding arrest, her courage in every emergency, and herwillingness to endure hardship and face any danger for the sake ofher poor followers was phenomenal. 

I regret to hear that she is poor and ill, and hope the sale ofyour book will give her the relief she so much needs and so welldeserves. 

 Yours truly, OLIVER JOHNSON. 

 AUBURN THEOL. SEMINARY, _March_ 16, 1886. 

By PROFESSOR HOPKINS

The remarkable person who is the subject of the following sketch, has been residing mostly ever since the close of the war in theoutskirts of the City of Auburn, during all which time I have beenwell acquainted with her. She has all the characteristics of thepure African race strongly marked upon her, though from which oneof the various tribes that once fed the Barracoons, on the Guineacoast, she derived her indomitable courage and her passionate loveof freedom I know not; perhaps from the Fellatas, in whom thosetraits were predominant. 

Harriet lives upon a farm which the twelve hundred dollars givenher by Mrs. Bradford from the proceeds of the first edition ofthis little book, enabled her to redeem from a mortgage held bythe late Secretary Seward. 

Her household is very likely to consist of several old blackpeople, "bad with the rheumatize, " some forlorn wandering woman, and a couple of small images of God cut in ebony. How she managesto feed and clothe herself and them, the Lord best knows. She hastoo much pride and too much faith to beg. She takes thankfully, but without any great effusiveness of gratitude, whatever God'smessengers bring her. 

I have never heard that she absolutely lacked. There are some goodpeople in various parts of the country, into whose hearts Godsends the thought, from time to time, that Harriet may be at thebottom of the flour sack, or of the potatoes, and the "help intime of need" comes to her. 

Harriet's simplicity and ignorance have, in some cases, beenimposed upon, very signally in one instance in Auburn, a few yearsago; but nobody who knows her has the slightest doubt of herperfect integrity. 

The following sketch taken by Mrs. Bradford, chiefly fromHarriet's own recollections, which are wonderfully distinct andminute, but also from other corroborative sources, gives but avery imperfect account of what this woman has been. 

Her color, and the servile condition in which she was born andreared, have doomed her to obscurity, but a more heroic soul didnot breathe in the bosom of Judith or of Jeanne D'Arc. 

No fear of the lash, the blood-hound, or the fiery stake, coulddivert her from her self-imposed task of leading as many aspossible of her people "from the land of Egypt, from the house ofbondage. "

The book is good literature for the black race, or the white race, and though no similar conditions may arise, to test thepossibilities that are in any of them, yet the example of thispoor slave woman may well stand out before them, and before allpeople, black or white, to show what a lofty and martyr spirit mayaccomplish, struggling against overwhelming obstacles. 

HARRIET, THE MOSES OF HER PEOPLE. 

On a hot summer's day, perhaps sixty years ago, a group of merrylittle darkies were rolling and tumbling in the sand in front ofthe large house of a Southern planter. Their shining skins gleamedin the sun, as they rolled over each other in their play, andtheir voices, as they chattered together, or shouted in glee, reached even to the cabins of the negro quarter, where the oldpeople groaned in spirit, as they thought of the future of thoseunconscious young revelers; and their cry went up, "O, Lord, howlong!"

Apart from the rest of the children, on the top rail of a fence, holding tight on to the tall gate post, sat a little girl ofperhaps thirteen years of age; darker than any of the others, andwith a more decided _woolliness_ in the hair; a pure unmitigatedAfrican. She was not so entirely in a state of nature as therollers in the dust beneath her; but her only garment was a shortwoolen skirt, which was tied around her waist, and reached aboutto her knees. She seemed a dazed and stupid child, and as her headhung upon her breast, she looked up with dull blood-shot eyestowards her young brothers and sisters, without seeming to seethem. Bye and bye the eyes closed, and still clinging to the post, she slept. The other children looked up and said to each other, "Look at Hatt, she's done gone off agin!" Tired of their presentplay ground they trooped off in another direction, but the girlslept on heavily, never losing her hold on the post, or her seaton her perch. Behold here, in the stupid little negro girl, thefuture deliverer of hundreds of her people; the spy and scout ofthe Union armies; the devoted hospital nurse; the protector ofhunted fugitives; the eloquent speaker in public meetings; thecunning eluder of pursuing man-hunters; the heaven guided pioneerthrough dangers seen and unseen; in short, as she has well beencalled, "The Moses of her People. "

Here in her thirteenth year she is just recovering from the firstterrible effects of an injury inflicted by her master, who in anungovernable fit of rage threw a heavy weight at the unoffendingchild, breaking in her skull, and causing a pressure upon herbrain, from which in her old age she is suffering still. Thispressure it was which caused the fits of somnolency so frequentlyto come upon her, and which gave her the appearance of beingstupid and half-witted in those early years. But that brain whichseemed so dull was full of busy thoughts, and her life problem wasalready trying to work itself out there. 

She had heard the shrieks and cries of women who were beingflogged in the negro quarter; she had listened to the groaned outprayer, "Oh, Lord, have mercy!" She had already seen two oldersisters taken away as part of a chain gang, and they had gone noone knew whither; she had seen the agonized expression on theirfaces as they turned to take a last look at their "Old CabinHome;" and had watched them from the top of the fence, as theywent off weeping and lamenting, till they were hidden from hersight forever. She saw the hopeless grief of the poor old mother, and the silent despair of the aged father, and already she beganto revolve in her mind the question, "Why should such things be?""Is there no deliverance for my people?"

The sun shone on, and Harriet still slept seated on the fencerail. They, those others, had no anxious dreams of the future, andeven the occasional sufferings of the present time caused them buta temporary grief. Plenty to eat, and warm sunshine to bask in, were enough to constitute their happiness; Harriet, however, wasnot one of these. God had a great work for her to do in the world, and the discipline and hardship through which she passed in herearly years, were only preparing her for her after life ofadventure and trial; and through these to come out as the Saviorand Deliverer of her people, when she came to years of womanhood. 

As yet she had seen no "visions, " and heard no "voices;" noforeshadowing of her life of toil and privation, of flight beforehuman blood-hounds, of watchings, and hidings, of perils by land, and perils by sea, yea, and of perils by false brethren, or ofmiraculous deliverance had yet come to her. No hint of the greatmission of her life, to guide her people from the land of bondageto the land of freedom. But, "Why should such things be?" and "Isthere no help?" These were the questions of her waking hours. 

The dilapidated state of things about the "Great House" told trulythe story of waning fortunes, and poverty was pressing upon themaster. One by one the able-bodied slaves disappeared; some weresold, others hired to other masters. No questions were asked; noinformation given; they simply disappeared. A "lady, " for so shewas designated, came driving up to the great house one day, to seeif she could find there a young girl to take care of a baby. Thelady wished to pay low wages, and so the most stupid and the mostincapable of the children on the plantation was chosen to go withher. Harriet, who could command less wages than any other child ofher age on the plantation, was therefore put into the wagonwithout a word of explanation, and driven off to the lady's house. It was not a very fine house, but Harriet had never before been inany dwelling better than the cabins of the negro quarter. 

She was engaged as child's nurse, but she soon found that she wasexpected to be maid of all work by day, as well as child's nurseby night. The first task that was set her was that of sweeping anddusting a parlor. No information was vouchsafed as to the mannerof going about this work, but she had often swept out the cabin, and this part of her task was successfully accomplished. Then atonce she took the dusting cloth, and wiped off tables, chairs andmantel-piece. The dust, as dust will do, when it has nowhere elseto go, at once settled again, and chairs and tables were sooncovered with a white coating, telling a terrible tale againstHarriet, when her Mistress came in to see how the work progressed. Reproaches, and savage words, fell upon the ears of the frightenedchild, and she was commanded to do the work all over again. It wasdone in precisely the same way, as before, with the same result. Then the whip was brought into requisition, and it was laid onwith no light hand. Five times before breakfast this process wasrepeated, when a new actor appeared upon the scene. Miss Emily, asister of the Mistress, had been roused from her morning slumberby the sound of the whip, and the screams of the child; and beingof a less imperious nature than her sister, she had come in to tryto set matters right. 

"Why do you whip the child, Susan, for not doing what she hasnever been taught to do? Leave her to me a few minutes, and youwill see that she will soon learn how to sweep and dust a room. "Then Miss Emily instructed the child to open the windows, andsweep, then to leave the room, and set the table, while the dustsettled; and after that to return and wipe it off. There was nomore trouble of that kind. A few words might have set the matterright before; but in those days many a poor slave suffered for thestupidity and obstinacy of a master or mistress, more stupid thanthemselves. 

When the labors, unremitted for a moment, of the long day wereover (for this mistress was an economical woman, and intended toget the worth of her money to the uttermost farthing), there wasstill no rest for the weary child, for there was a cross baby tobe rocked continuously, lest it should wake and disturb themother's rest. The black child sat beside the cradle of the whitechild, so near the bed, that the lash of the whip would reach herif she ventured for a moment to forget her fatigues and sufferingsin sleep. The Mistress reposed upon her bed with the whip on alittle shelf over her head. People of color are, unfortunately, soconstituted that even if the pressure of a broken skull does notcause a sleep like the sleep of the dead, the need of rest, andthe refreshment of slumber after a day of toil, were often felt bythem. No doubt, this was a great wrong to their masters, and acheating them of time which belonged to them, but their slaves didnot always look upon it in that light, and tired nature woulddemand her rights; and so nature and the Mistress had a fight forit. 

Rock, rock, went the cradle, and mother and child slept; but alas!the little black hand would sometimes slip down, and the headwould droop, and a dream of home and mother would visit the wearyone, only to be roughly dispelled by the swift descent of thestinging lash, for the baby had cried out and the mother had beenawakened. This is no fictitious tale. That poor neck is even nowcovered with the scars which sixty years of life have not beenable to efface. It may be that she was thus being prepared by thelong habit of enforced wakefulness, for the night watches in thewoods, and in dens and caves of the earth, when the pursuers wereon her track, and the terrified ones were trembling in her shadow. We do not thank _you_ for this, cruel woman! for if you did her aservice, you did it ignorantly, and only for your own gratification. But Harriet's powers of endurance failed at last, and she wasreturned to her master, a poor, scarred wreck, nothing but skin andbone, with the words that "She wasn't worth a sixpence. "

The poor old mother nursed her back to life, and her naturallygood constitution asserted itself, so that as she grew older shebegan to show signs of the wonderful strength which in afteryears, when the fugitive slave law was in operation in New YorkState, enabled her to seize a man from the officers who had him incharge, and while numbers were pursuing her, and the shot wasflying like hail about her head, to bear him in her own strongarms beyond the reach of danger. 

As soon as she was strong enough for work, Harriet was hired outto a man whose tyranny was worse, if possible, than that of thewoman she had left. Now it was out of door drudgery which was putupon her. The labor of the horse and the ox, the lifting ofbarrels of flour and other heavy weights were given to her; andpowerful men often stood astonished to see this woman performfeats of strength from which they shrunk incapable. This crueltyshe looks upon as a blessing in disguise (a very questionableshape the blessing took, methinks), for by it she was prepared forafter needs. 

Still the pressure upon the brain continued, and with the weighthalf lifted, she would drop off into a state of insensibility, from which even the lash in the hand of a strong man could notrouse her. But if they had only known it, the touch of a gentlehand upon her shoulder, and her name spoken in tones of kindness, would have accomplished what cruelty failed to do. 

The day's work must be accomplished, whether the head was rackedwith pain, and the frame was consumed by fever, or not; but theday came at length when poor Harriet could work no more. The stingof the lash had no power to rouse her now, and the new masterfinding her a dead weight on his hands, returned the useless pieceof property to him who was called her "owner. " And while she laythere helpless, this man was bringing other men to look at her, and offering her for sale at the lowest possible price; at thesame time setting forth her capabilities, if once she were strongand well again. 

Harriet's religious character I have not yet touched upon. Broughtup by parents possessed of strong faith in God, she had neverknown the time, I imagine, when she did not trust Him, and clingto Him, with an all-abiding confidence. She seemed ever to feelthe Divine Presence near, and she talked with God "as a mantalketh with his friend. " Hers was not the religion of a morningand evening prayer at stated times, but when she felt a need, shesimply told God of it, and trusted Him to set the matter right. 

"And so, " she said to me, "as I lay so sick on my bed, fromChristmas till March, I was always praying for poor ole master. 'Pears like I didn't do nothing but pray for ole master. 'Oh, Lord, convert ole master;' 'Oh, dear Lord, change dat man's heart, and make him a Christian. ' And all the time he was bringing men tolook at me, and dey stood there saying what dey would give, andwhat dey would take, and all I could say was, 'Oh, Lord, convertole master. ' Den I heard dat as soon as I was able to move I wasto be sent with my brudders, in the chain-gang to de far South. Then I changed my prayer, and I said, 'Lord, if you ain't nevergoing to change dat man's heart, _kill him_, Lord, and take himout of de way, so he won't do no more mischief. ' Next ting I heardole master was dead; and he died just as he had lived, a wicked, bad man. Oh, den it 'peared like I would give de world full ofsilver and gold, if I had it, to bring dat pore soul back, I wouldgive _myself_; I would give eberyting! But he was gone, I couldn'tpray for him no more. "

As she recovered from this long illness, a deeper religious spiritseemed to take possession of her than she had ever experiencedbefore. She literally "prayed without ceasing. " "'Pears like, Iprayed all de time, " she said, "about my work, eberywhere; I wasalways talking to de Lord. When I went to the horse-trough to washmy face, and took up de water in my hands, I said, 'Oh, Lord, washme, make me clean. ' When I took up de towel to wipe my face andhands, I cried, 'Oh, Lord, for Jesus' sake, wipe away all mysins!' When I took up de broom and began to sweep, I groaned, 'Oh, Lord, whatsoebber sin dere be in my heart, sweep it out, Lord, clar and clean;' but I can't pray no more for pore ole master. " Nowords can describe the pathos of her tones as she broke into thesewords of earnest supplication. 

What was to become of the slaves on this plantation now that themaster was dead? Were they all to be scattered and sent todifferent parts of the country? Harriet had many brothers andsisters, all of whom with the exception of the two, who had goneSouth with the chain-gang, were living on this plantation, or werehired out to planters not far away. The word passed through thecabins that another owner was coming in, and that none of theslaves were to be sold out of the State. This assurance satisfiedthe others, but it did not satisfy Harriet. Already the inwardmonitor was whispering to her, "Arise, flee for your life!" and inthe visions of the night she saw the horsemen coming, and heardthe shrieks of women and children, as they were being torn fromeach other, and hurried off no one knew whither. 

And beckoning hands were ever motioning her to come, and sheseemed to see a line dividing the land of slavery from the land offreedom, and on the other side of that line she saw lovely whiteladies waiting to welcome her, and to care for her. Already in hermind her people were the Israelites in the land of Egypt, whilefar away to the north _somewhere_, was the land of Canaan; but hadshe as yet any prevision that _she_ was to be the Moses who was tobe their leader, through clouds of darkness and fear, and fires oftribulation to that promised land? This she never said. 

One day there were scared faces seen in the negro quarter, andhurried whispers passed from one to another. No one knew how ithad come out, but some one had heard that Harriet and two of herbrothers were very soon, perhaps to-day, perhaps to-morrow, to besent far South with a gang, bought up for plantation work. Harrietwas about twenty or twenty-five years old at this time, and theconstantly recurring idea of escape at _sometime_, took suddenform that day, and with her usual promptitude of action she wasready to start at once. 

She held a hurried consultation with her brothers, in which she sowrought upon their fears, that they expressed themselves aswilling to start with her that very night, for that far North, where, could they reach it in safety, freedom awaited them. Butshe must first give some intimation of her purpose to the friendsshe was to leave behind, so that even if not understood at thetime, it might be remembered afterward as her intended farewell. Slaves must not be seen talking together, and so it came aboutthat their communication was often made by singing, and the wordsof their familiar hymns, telling of the heavenly journey, and theland of Canaan, while they did not attract the attention of themasters, conveyed to their brethren and sisters in bondagesomething more than met the ear. And so she sang, accompanying thewords, when for a moment unwatched, with a meaning look to one andanother:

 "When dat ar ole chariot comes, I'm gwine to lebe you, I'm boun' for de promised land, Frien's, I'm gwine to lebe you. "

Again, as she passed the doors of the different cabins, she liftedup her well-known voice; and many a dusky face appeared at door orwindow, with a wondering or scared expression; and thus shecontinued:

 "I'm sorry, frien's, to lebe you, Farewell! oh, farewell! But I'll meet you in de mornin', Farewell! oh, farewell!

 "I'll meet you in de mornin', When you reach de promised land; On de oder side of Jordan, For I'm boun' for de promised land. "

The brothers started with her, but the way was strange, the northwas far away, and all unknown, the masters would pursue andrecapture them, and their fate would be worse than ever before;and so they broke away from her, and bidding her goodbye, theyhastened back to the known horrors of slavery, and the dread ofthat which was worse. 

Harriet was now left alone, but after watching the retreatingforms of her brothers, she turned her face toward the north, andfixing her eyes on the guiding star, and committing her way untothe Lord, she started again upon her long, lonely journey. Herfarewell song was long remembered in the cabins, and the oldmother sat and wept for her lost child. No intimation had beengiven her of Harriet's intention, for the old woman was of a mostimpulsive disposition, and her cries and lamentations would havemade known to all within hearing Harriet's intended escape. Andso, with only the North Star for her guide, our heroine started onthe way to liberty, "For, " said she, "I had reasoned dis out in mymind; there was one of two things I had a _right_ to, liberty, ordeath; if I could not have one, I would have de oder; for no manshould take me alive; I should fight for my liberty as long as mystrength lasted, and when de time came for me to go, de Lord wouldlet dem take me. "

And so without money, and without friends, she started on throughunknown regions; walking by night, hiding by day, but alwaysconscious of an invisible pillar of cloud by day, and of fire bynight, under the guidance of which she journeyed or rested. Without knowing whom to trust, or how near the pursuers might be, she carefully felt her way, and by her native cunning, or by Godgiven wisdom, she managed to apply to the right people for food, and sometimes for shelter; though often her bed was only the coldground, and her watchers the stars of night. 

After many long and weary days of travel, she found that she hadpassed the magic line, which then divided the land of bondage fromthe land of freedom. But where were the lovely white ladies whomin her visions she had seen, who, with arms outstretched, welcomedher to their hearts and homes. All these visions proved deceitful:she was more alone than ever; but she had crossed the line; no onecould take her now, and she would never call any man "Master"more. 

"I looked at my hands, " she said, "to see if I was de same personnow I was free. Dere was such a glory ober eberything, de sun camelike gold trou de trees, and ober de fields, and I felt like I wasin heaven. " But then came the bitter drop in the cup of joy. Shewas alone, and her kindred were in slavery, and not one of themhad the courage to dare what she had dared. Unless she made theeffort to liberate them she would never see them more, or evenknow their fate. 

"I knew of a man, " she said, "who was sent to the State Prison fortwenty-five years. All these years he was always thinking of hishome, and counting by years, months, and days, the time till heshould be free, and see his family and friends once more. Theyears roll on, the time of imprisonment is over, the man is free. He leaves the prison gates, he makes his way to his old home, buthis old home is not there. The house in which he had dwelt in hischildhood had been torn down, and a new one had been put up in itsplace; his family were gone, their very name was forgotten, therewas no one to take him by the hand to welcome him back to life. "

"So it was wid me, " said Harriet, "I had crossed de line of whichI had so long been dreaming. I was free; but dere was no one towelcome me to de land of freedom, I was a stranger in a strangeland, and my home after all was down in de old cabin quarter, widde ole folks, and my brudders and sisters. But to dis solemnresolution I came; I was free, and dey should be free also; Iwould make a home for dem in de North, and de Lord helping me, Iwould bring dem all dere. Oh, how I prayed den, lying all alone onde cold, damp ground; 'Oh, dear Lord, ' I said, 'I haint got nofriend but _you_. Come to my help, Lord, for I'm in trouble!'"

It would be impossible here to give a detailed account of thejourneys and labors of this intrepid woman for the redemption ofher kindred and friends, during the years that followed. Thoseyears were spent in work, almost by night and day, with the oneobject of the rescue of her people from slavery. All her wageswere laid away with this sole purpose, and as soon as a sufficientamount was secured, she disappeared from her Northern home, and assuddenly and mysteriously she appeared some dark night at the doorof one of the cabins on a plantation, where a trembling band offugitives, forewarned as to time and place, were anxiouslyawaiting their deliverer. Then she piloted them North, travelingby night, hiding by day, scaling the mountains, fording therivers, threading the forests, lying concealed as the pursuerspassed them. She, carrying the babies, drugged with paregoric, ina basket on her arm. So she went _nineteen_ times, and so shebrought away over three hundred pieces of living and breathing"property, " with God given souls. 

The way was so toilsome over the rugged mountain passes, thatoften the _men_ who followed her would give out, and foot-sore, and bleeding, they would drop on the ground, groaning that theycould not take another step. They would lie there and die, or ifstrength came back, they would return on their steps, and seektheir old homes again. Then the revolver carried by this bold anddaring pioneer, would come out, while pointing it at their headsshe would say, "Dead niggers tell no tales; you go on or die!" Andby this heroic treatment she compelled them to drag their wearylimbs along on their northward journey. 

But the pursuers were after them. A reward of $40, 000 was offeredby the slave-holders of the region from whence so many slaves hadbeen spirited away, for the head of the woman who appeared somysteriously, and enticed away their property, from under the veryeyes of its owners. Our sagacious heroine has been in the car, having sent her frightened party round by some so-called"Under-ground Railway, " and has heard this advertisement, which wasposted over her head, read by others of the passengers. She nevercould read or write herself, but knowing that suspicion would belikely to fall upon any black woman traveling North, she wouldturn at the next station, and journey towards the South. Who wouldsuspect a fugitive with such a price set upon her head, of rushingat railway speed into the jaws of destruction? With a daringalmost heedless, she went even to the very village where she wouldbe most likely to meet one of the masters to whom she had beenhired; and having stopped at the Market and bought a pair of livefowls, she went along the street with her sun-bonnet well over herface, and with the bent and decrepit air of an aged, woman. Suddenly on turning a corner, she spied her old master comingtowards her. She pulled the string which tied the legs of thechickens; they began to flutter and scream, and as her masterpassed, she was stooping and busily engaged in attending to thefluttering fowls. And he went on his way, little thinking that hewas brushing the very garments of the woman who had dared to stealherself, and others of his belongings. 

At one time the pursuit was very close and vigorous. The woodswere scoured in all directions, every house was visited, and everyperson stopped and questioned as to a band of black fugitives, known to be fleeing through that part of the country. Harriet hada large party with her then; the children were sleeping the soundsleep that opium gives; but all the others were on the alert, eachone hidden behind his own tree, and silent as death. They had beenlong without food, and were nearly famished; and as the pursuersseemed to have passed on, Harriet decided to make the attempt toreach a certain "station of the underground railroad" well knownto her; and procure food for her starving party. Under cover ofthe darkness, she started, leaving a cowering and trembling groupin the woods, to whom a fluttering leaf, or a moving animal, werea sound of dread, bringing their hearts into their throats. Howlong she is away! has she been caught and carried off, and if sowhat is to become of them? Hark! there is a sound of singing inthe distance, coming nearer and nearer. 

And these are the words of the unseen singer, which I wish I couldgive you as I have so often heard them sung by herself:

 Hail, oh hail, ye happy spirits, Death no more shall make you fear, Grief nor sorrow, pain nor anguish, Shall no more distress you dere. 

 Around Him are ten thousand angels Always ready to obey command; Dey are always hovering round you, Till you reach de heavenly land. 

 Jesus, Jesus will go wid you, He will lead you to his throne; He who died, has gone before you, Trod de wine-press all alone. 

 He whose thunders shake creation, He who bids de planets roll; He who rides upon the tempest, And whose scepter sways de whole. 

 Dark and thorny is de pathway, Where de pilgrim makes his ways; But beyond dis vale of sorrow, Lie de fields of endless days. 

The air sung to these words was so wild, so full of plaintiveminor strains, and unexpected quavers, that I would defy any whiteperson to learn it, and often as I heard it, it was to me aconstant surprise. Up and down the road she passes to see if thecoast is clear, and then to make them certain that it is _their_leader who is coming, she breaks out into the plaintive strains ofthe song, forbidden to her people at the South, but which she andher followers delight to sing together:

 Oh go down, Moses, Way down into Egypt's land, Tell old Pharaoh, Let my people go. 

 Oh Pharaoh said he would go cross, Let my people go, And don't get lost in de wilderness, Let my people go. 

 Oh go down, Moses, Way down into Egypt's land, Tell old Pharaoh, Let my people go. 

 You may hinder me here, but you can't up dere, Let my people go, He sits in de Hebben and answers prayer, Let my people go!

 Oh go down, Moses, Way down into Egypt's land, Tell old Pharaoh, Let my people go. 

And then she enters the recesses of the wood, carrying hope andcomfort to the anxious watchers there. One by one they steal outfrom their hiding places, and are fed and strengthened for anothernight's journey. 

And so by night travel, by signals, by threatenings, byencouragement, through watchings and fastings, and I may say bydirect interpositions of Providence, and miraculous deliverances, she brought her people to what was then their land of Canaan; theState of New York. But alas! this State did not continue to betheir refuge. For in 1850, I think, the Fugitive Slave Law was putin force, which bound the people north of Mason and Dixon's line, to return to bondage any fugitive found in their territories. 

"After that, " said Harriet, "I wouldn't trust Uncle Sam wid mypeople no longer, but I brought 'em all clar off to Canada. "

On her seventh or eighth journey, she brought with her a band offugitives, among whom was a very remarkable man, whom I knew onlyby the name of "Joe. " Joe was a noble specimen of a negro, enormously tall, and of splendid muscular development. He had beenhired out by his master to another planter, for whom he had workedfor six years, saving him all the expense of an overseer, andtaking all trouble off from his hands. He was such a very valuablepiece of property, and had become so absolutely necessary to theplanter to whom he was hired, that he determined to buy him at anycost. His old master held him proportionately high. But by payingone thousand dollars down, and promising to pay another thousandin a certain time, the purchase was made, and this chattel passedover into the hands of a new owner. 

The morning after the purchase was completed, the new master cameriding down on a tall, powerful horse into the negro quarter, witha strong new rawhide in his hand, and stopping before Joe's cabin, called to him to come out. Joe was just eating his breakfast, butwith ready obedience, he hastened out at the summons. Slave as hewas, and accustomed to scenes of brutality, he was surprised whenthe order came, "Now, Joe, strip, and take a licking. " Naturallyenough, he demurred at first, and thought of resisting the order;but he called to mind a scene he had witnessed a few days beforein the field, the particulars of which are too horrible to begiven here, and he thought it the wisest course to submit; butfirst he tried a gentle remonstrance. 

"Mas'r, " said he, "habn't I always been faithful to you? Habn't Iworked through sun an' rain, early in de mornin' an' late atnight; habn't I saved you an oberseer by doin' his work? hab youanything to complain agin me?"

"No, Joe, I have no complaint to make of you. You're a goodnigger, an' you've always worked well. But you belong to _me_ now;you're _my_ nigger, and the first lesson my niggers have to learnis that I am master and they belong to me, and are never to resistanything I order them to do. So I always begin by giving them agood licking. Now strip and take it. "

Joe saw that there was no help for him, and that for the time hemust submit. He stripped off his clothing, and took his floggingwithout a word, but as he drew his shirt up over his torn andbleeding back, he said to himself: "Dis is de first an' de last. "As soon as he was able he took a boat, and under cover of thenight, rowed down the river, and made his way to the cabin of "OldBen, " Harriet's father, and said to him: "Nex' time _Moses_ comes, let me know. "

It was not long after this time, that the mysterious womanappeared--the woman on whom no one could lay his finger--and men, women, and children began to disappear from the plantations. Onefine morning Joe was missing, and call as loud as he might, themaster's voice had no power to bring him forth. Joe had certainlyfled; and his brother William was gone, and Peter and Eliza. Fromother plantations other slaves were missing, and before theirmasters were awake to the fact, the party of fugitives, followingtheir intrepid leader, were far on their way towards liberty. 

The adventures of this escaping party would of themselves fill avolume. They hid in potato holes by day, while their pursuerspassed within a few feet of them; they were passed along byfriends in various disguises; they scattered and separated; sometraveling by boat, some by wagons, some by cars, others on foot, to meet at some specified station of the under-ground railroad. They met at the house of Sam Green, [A] the man who was afterwardssent to prison for ten years for having a copy of "Uncle Tom'sCabin" in his house. And so, hunted and hiding and wandering, theyfound themselves at last at the entrance of the long bridge whichcrosses the river at Wilmington, Delaware. 

[Footnote A: In mentioning to me the circumstances of Sam Green'simprisonment, Harriet, who had no acquaintance with books, merelymentioned the fact as it had come to her own knowledge. But I havelately come across a book in the Astor Library which confirms thestory precisely as she stated it. It is in a book by Rev. JohnDixon Long, of Philadelphia. He says, "Samuel Green, a freecolored man of Dorchester County, Maryland, was sentenced to tenyears' confinement in the Maryland State Prison, at the springterm of the County Court held in Cambridge, Md. 

"What was the crime imputed to this man, born on American soil, aman of good moral character, a local preacher in the MethodistEpiscopal Church; a husband and a father? Simply this: A copy of'Uncle Tom's Cabin' _had been found in his possession_. It was notproved that he had ever read it to the colored people. "]

No time had been lost in posting up advertisements and offeringrewards for the capture of these fugitives; for Joe in particularthe reward offered was very high. First a thousand dollars, thenfifteen hundred, and then two thousand, "an' all expenses clar an'clean for his body in Easton Jail. " This high reward stimulatedthe efforts of the officers who were usually on the lookout forescaping fugitives, and the added rewards for others of the party, and the high price set on Harriet's head, filled the woods andhighways with eager hunters after human prey. When Harriet and hercompanions approached the long Wilmington Bridge, a warning wasgiven them by some secret friend, that the advertisements were up, and the bridge was guarded by police officers. Quick as lightningthe plans were formed in her ready brain, and the terrified partywere separated and hidden in the houses of different friends, tillher arrangements for their further journey were completed. 

There was at that time residing in Wilmington an old Quaker, whomI may call _my_ "friend, " for though I never saw his face, I havehad correspondence with him in reference to Harriet and herfollowers. This man, whose name was Thomas Garrett, and who waswell known in those days to the friends of the slave, was a man ofa wonderfully large and generous heart, through whose hands duringthose days of distress and horror, no less than three thousandself-emancipated men, women and children passed on their way tofreedom. He gave heart, hand, and means to aid these poorfugitives, and to our brave Harriet he often rendered mostefficient help in her journeys back and forth. 

He was the proprietor of a very large shoe establishment; and notone of these poor travelers aver left his house without a presentof a new pair of shoes and other needed help. No sooner had thisgood man received intelligence of the condition of these poorcreatures, than he devised a plan to elude the vigilance of theofficers in pursuit, and bring Harriet and her party across thebridge. Two wagons filled with bricklayers were engaged, and sentover; this was a common sight there, and caused no remark. Theywent across the bridge singing and shouting, and it was not anunexpected thing that they should return as they went. Afternightfall (and, fortunately, the night was very dark) the samewagons recrossed the bridge, but with an unlooked-for addition totheir party. The fugitives were lying close together on the bottomof the wagons; the bricklayers were on the seats, still singingand shouting; and so they passed the guards, who were allunsuspicious of the nature of the load contained in the wagons, orof the amount of property thus escaping their hands. 

The good man, Thomas Garrett, who was in a very feeble state ofhealth when he last wrote me, and has now gone to his reward, supplied them with all needed comforts, and sent them on their wayrefreshed, and with renewed courage. And Harriet here set up herEbenezer, saying, "Thus far hath the Lord helped me!" But many adanger, and many a fright, and many a deliverance awaited them, before they reached the city of New York. And even there they werenot safe, for the Fugitive Slave Law was in operation, and theironly refuge was Canada, which was now their promised land. 

They finally reached New York in safety: and this goes almostwithout saying, for I may as well mention here that of the threehundred and more fugitives whom Harriet piloted from slavery, notone was ever recaptured, though all the cunning and skill of whitemen, backed by offered rewards of large sums of money, werebrought into requisition for their recovery. 

As they entered the anti-slavery office in New York, Mr. OliverJohnson rose up and exclaimed, "Well, Joe, I am glad to see theman who is worth $2, 000 to his master. " At this Joe's heart sank. "Oh, Mas'r, how did you know me!" he panted. "Here is theadvertisement in our office, " said Mr. Johnson, "and thedescription is so close that no one could mistake it. " And had hecome through all these perils, had he traveled by day and night, and suffered cold and hunger, and lived in constant fear anddread, to find that far off here in New York State, he wasrecognized at once by the advertisement? How, then, was he ever toreach Canada?

"And how far off is Canada?" he asked. He was shown the map of NewYork State, and the track of the railroad, for more than threehundred miles to Niagara, where he would cross the river, and befree. But the way seemed long and full of dangers. They weresurely safer on their own tired feet, where they might hide inforests and ditches, and take refuge in the friendly undergroundstations; but here, where this large party would be together inthe cars, surely suspicion would fall upon them, and they would beseized and carried back. But Harriet encouraged him in her cheeryway. He must not give up now. "De Lord had been with them in sixtroubles, and he would not desert them in de seventh. " And therewas nothing to do but to go on. As Moses spoke to the children ofIsrael, when compassed before and behind by dangers, so she spaketo her people, that they should "go forward. "

Up to this time, as they traveled they had talked and sung hymnstogether, like Pilgrim and his friends, and Joe's voice was theloudest and sweetest among them; but now he hanged his harp uponthe willows, and could sing the Lord's songs no more. 

"From dat time, " in Harriet's language, "Joe was silent; he talkedno more; he sang no more; he sat wid his head on his hand, an'nobody could 'rouse him, nor make him take any intrust inanything. "

They passed along in safety through New York State, and at lengthfound themselves approaching the Suspension Bridge. They could seethe promised land on the other side. The uninviting plains ofCanada seemed to them, "Sweet fields beyond the swelling flood, All dressed in living green;"

but they were not safe yet. Until they reached the center of thebridge, they were still in the power of their pursuers, who mightat any pause enter the car, and armed with the power of the law, drag them back to slavery. The rest of the party were happy andexcited; they were simple, ignorant creatures, and having implicittrust in their leader, they felt safe when with her, and noimmediate danger threatened them. But Joe was of a differentmould. He sat silent and sad, always thinking of the horrors thatawaited him if recaptured. As it happened, all the otherpassengers were people who sympathized with them, understandingthem to be a band of fugitives, and they listened with tears, asHarriet and all except poor Joe lifted up their voices and sang:

 I'm on the way to Canada, That cold and dreary land, De sad effects of slavery, I can't no longer stand; I've served my Master all my days, Widout a dime reward, And now I'm forced to run away, To flee de lash, abroad;Farewell, ole Master, don't think hard of me, I'm traveling on to Canada, where all de slaves are free. 

 De hounds are baying on my track, Ole Master comes behind, Resolved that he will bring me back, Before I cross the line; I'm now embarked for yonder shore, Where a man's _a man_ by law, De iron horse will bear me o'er, To "shake de lion's paw;"Oh, righteous Father, wilt thou not pity me. And help me on to Canada, where all de slaves are free. 

 Oh I heard Queen Victoria say, That if we would forsake, Our native land of slavery, And come across de lake; Dat she was standing on de shore, Wid arms extended wide, To give us all a peaceful home, Beyond de rolling tide;Farewell, ole Master, don't think hard of me, I'm traveling on to Canada, where all de slaves are free. 

No doubt the simple creatures with her expected to cross a widelake instead of a rapid river, and to see Queen Victoria with hercrown upon her head, waiting with arms extended wide, to fold themall in her embrace. There was now but "one wide river to cross, "and the cars rolled on to the bridge. In the distance was heardthe roar of the mighty cataract, and now as they neared the centerof the bridge, the falls might be clearly seen. Harriet wasanxious to have her companions see this wonderful sight, andsucceeded in bringing all to the windows, except Joe. But Joestill sat with his head on his hands, and not even the wonders ofNiagara could draw him from his melancholy musings. At length asHarriet knew by the rise of the center of the bridge, and thedescent immediately after, the line of danger was passed; shesprang across to Joe's side of the car, and shook him almost outof his seat, as she shouted, "Joe! you've shook de lion's paw!"This was her phrase for having entered on the dominions ofEngland. But Joe did not understand this figurative expression. Then she shook him again, and put it more plainly, "Joe, you're inQueen Victoria's dominions! You're a free man!"

Then Joe arose. His head went up, he raised his hands on high, andhis eyes, streaming with tears, to heaven, and then he began tosing and shout:

 "Glory to God and Jesus too, One more soul got safe; Oh, go and carry the news, One more soul got safe. "

"Joe, come and look at the falls!"

 "Glory to God and Jesus too, One more soul got safe. "

"Joe! it's your last chance. Come and see de falls!"

 "Glory to God and Jesus too, One more soul got safe. "

And this was all the answer. The train stopped on the other side;and the first feet to touch British soil, after those of theconductor, were those of poor Joe. 

Loud roared the waters of Niagara, but louder still ascended theAnthem of praise from the overflowing heart of the freeman. Andcan we doubt that the strain was taken up by angel voices andechoed and re-echoed through the vaults of heaven:

 Glory to God in the highest, Glory to God and Jesus too, For all these souls now safe. 

"The white ladies and gentlemen gathered round him, " said Harriet, "till I couldn't see Joe for the crowd, only I heard his voicesinging, 'Glory to God and Jesus too, ' louder than ever. " A sweetyoung lady reached over her fine cambric handkerchief to him, andas Joe wiped the great tears off his face, he said, "Tank de Lord!dere's only one more journey for me now, and dat's to Hebben!" Aswe bid farewell to Joe here, I may as well say that Harriet sawhim several times after that, a happy and industrious freeman inCanada. [B]

[Footnote B: In my recent interview with Mr. Oliver Johnson hetold me of an interesting incident in the life of the good man, Thomas Garrett. 

He was tried twice for assisting in the escape of fugitive slaves, and was fined so heavily that everything he possessed was takenfrom him and sold to pay the fine. At the age of sixty he was leftwithout a penny, but he went bravely to work, and in some measureregained his fortune; all the time aiding, in every way possible, all stray fugitives who applied to him for help. 

Again he was arrested, tried, and heavily fined, and as the Judgeof the United States Court pronounced the sentence, he said, in asolemn manner: "Garrett, let this be a lesson to you, not tointerfere hereafter with the cause of justice, by helping offrunaway negroes. 

The old man, who had stood to receive his sentence, here raisedhis head, and fixing his eyes on "the Court, " he said:

"Judge--thee hasn't left me a dollar, but I wish to say to thee, and to all in this court room, that if anyone knows of a fugitivewho wants a shelter, and a friend, _send him to Thomas Garrett_, and he will befriend him!"

[Not Luther before the Council at Worms was grander than this braveold man in his unswerving adherence to principle. In those daysthat tried men's souls there were many men like this old Quaker, and many women too, who would have gone cheerfully to the fire andthe stake, for the cause of suffering humanity; men and women_these_ "of whom the world was not worthy. "]

On one of her journeys to the North, as she was piloting a companyof refugees, Harriet came, just as morning broke, to a town, wherea colored man had lived whose house had been one of her stationsof the under-ground, or unseen railroad. They reached the house, and leaving her party huddled together in the middle of thestreet, in a pouring rain, Harriet went to the door, and gave thepeculiar rap which was her customary signal to her friends. Therewas not the usual ready response, and she was obliged to repeatthe signal several times. At length a window was raised, and thehead of a _white man_ appeared, with the gruff question, "Who areyou?" and "What do you want?" Harriet asked after her friend, andwas told that he had been obliged to leave for "harboringniggers. "

Here was an unforeseen trouble; day was breaking, and daylight wasthe enemy of the hunted and flying fugitives. Their faithfulleader stood one moment in the street, and in that moment she hadflashed a message quicker than that of the telegraph to her unseenProtector, and the answer came as quickly; in a suggestion to herof an almost forgotten place of refuge. Outside of the town therewas a little island in a swamp, where the grass grew tall andrank, and where no human being could be suspected of seeking ahiding place. To this spot she conducted her party; she waded theswamp, carrying in a basket two well-drugged babies (these were apair of little twins, whom I have since seen well grown youngwomen), and the rest of the company following. She ordered them tolie down in the tall, wet grass, and here she prayed again, andwaited for deliverance. The poor creatures were all cold, and wet, and hungry, and Harriet did not dare to leave them to getsupplies; for no doubt the man at whose house she had knocked, hadgiven the alarm in the town; and officers might be on the watchfor them. They were truly in a wretched condition, but Harriet'sfaith never wavered, her silent prayer still ascended, and sheconfidently expected help from some quarter or other. 

It was after dusk when a man came slowly walking along the solidpathway on the edge of the swamp. He was clad in the garb of aQuaker; and proved to be a "friend" in need and indeed; he seemedto be talking to himself, but ears quickened by sharp practicecaught the words he was saying:

"My wagon stands in the barn-yard of the next farm across the way. The horse is in the stable; the harness hangs on a nail. " And theman was gone. Night fell, and Harriet stole forth to the placedesignated. Not only a wagon, but a wagon well provisioned stoodin the yard; and before many minutes the party were rescued fromtheir wretched position, and were on their way rejoicing, to thenext town. Here dwelt a Quaker whom Harriet knew, and he readilytook charge of the horse and wagon, and no doubt returned them totheir owner. How the good man who thus came to their rescue hadreceived any intimation of their being in the neighborhood Harrietnever knew. But these sudden deliverances never seemed to strikeher as at all strange or mysterious; her prayer was the prayer offaith, and she _expected_ an answer. 

At one time, as she was on her way South for a party of slaves, she was stopped not far from the southern shore of the ChesapeakeBay, by a young woman, who had been for some days in hiding, andwas anxiously watching for "Moses, " who was soon expected to passthat way. 

This girl was a young and pretty Mulatto, named Tilly, she hadbeen lady's maid and dressmaker, for her Mistress. She was engagedto a young man from another plantation, but he had joined one ofHarriet's parties, and gone North. Tilly was to have gone also atthat time, but had found it impossible to get away. Now she hadlearned that it was her Master's intention to give her to a Negroof his own for his wife; and in fear and desperation, she made astrike for freedom. Friends had concealed her, and all had been onthe watch for Moses. 

The distress and excitement of the poor creature was so great, andshe begged and implored in such agonized tones that Harriet wouldjust see her safe to Baltimore, where she knew of friends whowould harbor her, and help her on her way, that Harriet determinedto turn about, and endeavor to take the poor girl thus far on herNorthward journey. 

They reached the shore of Chesapeake Bay too late to leave thatnight, and were obliged to hide for a night and day in the loft ofan old out-house, where every sound caused poor Tilly to trembleas if she had an ague fit. When the time for the boat to leavearrived, a sad disappointment awaited them. The boat on which theyhad expected to leave was disabled, and another boat was to takeits place. At that time, according to the law of Slavery, no Negrocould leave his Master's land, or travel anywhere, without a pass, properly signed by his owner. Of course this poor fugitive had nopass; and Harriet's passes were her own wits; but among her manyfriends, there was one who seemed to have influence with the clerkof the boat, on which she expected to take passage; and she wasthe bearer of a note requesting, or commanding him to take thesetwo women to the end of his route, asking no questions. 

Now here was an unforeseen difficulty; the boat was not going; theclerk was not there; all on the other boat were strangers. Butforward they must go, trusting in Providence. As they walked downto the boat, a gang of lazy white men standing together, began tomake comments on their appearance. 

"Too many likely looking Niggers traveling North, about thesedays. " "Wonder if these wenches have got a pass. " "Where yougoing, you two?" Tilly trembled and cowered, and clung to herprotector, but Harriet put on a bold front, and holding the notegiven her by her friend in her hand, and supporting her terrifiedcharge, she walked by the men, taking no notice of their insults. 

They joined the stream of people going up to get their tickets, but when Harriet asked for hers, the clerk eyed her suspiciously, and said: "You just stand aside, you two; I'll attend to your casebye and bye. "

Harriet led the young girl to the bow of the boat, where they werealone, and here, having no other help, she, as was her custom, addressed herself to the Lord. Kneeling on the seat, andsupporting her head on her hands, and fixing her eyes on thewaters of the bay, she groaned:

"Oh, Lord! You've been wid me in six troubles, _don't_ desert mein the seventh!"

"Moses! Moses!" cried Tilly, pulling her by the sleeve. "Do go andsee if you can't get tickets now. "

"Oh, Lord! You've been wid me in six troubles, _don't_ desert mein the seventh. "

And so Harriet's story goes on in her peculiarly graphic manner, till at length in terror Tilly exclaimed:

"Oh, Moses! the man is coming. What shall we do?"

"Oh, Lord, you've been wid me in six troubles!"

Here the clerk touched her on the shoulder, and Tilly thoughttheir time had come, but all he said was:

"You can come now and get your tickets, " and their troubles wereover. 

What changed this man from his former suspicious and antagonisticaspect, Harriet never knew. Of course she said it was "de Lord, "but as to the agency he used, she never troubled herself toinquire. She _expected_ deliverance when she prayed, unless theLord had ordered otherwise, and in that case she was perfectlywilling to accept the Divine decree. 

When surprise was expressed at her courage and daring, or at herunexpected deliverances, she would always reply: "Don't, I tellyou, Missus, 'twan't _me_, 'twas _de Lord_! Jes' so long as hewanted to use me, he would take keer of me, an' when he didn'twant me no longer, I was ready to go; I always tole him, I'm gwineto hole stiddy on to you, an' you've got to see me trou. "

There came a time when Harriet, who had already brought away asmany of her family as she could reach, besides all others whowould trust themselves to her care, became much troubled in"spirit" about three of her brothers, having had an intimation ofsome kind that danger was impending over them. With her usualwonderful cunning, she employed a friend to write a letter for herto a man named Jacob Jackson, who lived near the plantation wherethese brothers were at that time the hired slaves. 

Jacob Jackson was a free negro, who could both read and write, andwho was under suspicion just then of having a hand in thedisappearance of colored "property. " It was necessary, therefore, to exercise great caution in writing to him, on his own account aswell as that of the writer, and those whom she wished to aid. Jacob had an adopted son, William Henry Jackson, also free, whohad come North. Harriet determined to sign her letter with WilliamHenry's name, feeling sure that Jacob would be clever enough tounderstand by her peculiar phraseology, the meaning she intendedto convey. 

Therefore, after speaking of indifferent matters, the letter wenton: "Read my letter to the old folks, and give my love to them, and tell my brothers to be always _watching unto prayer_, and when_the good old ship of Zion comes along, to be ready to step onboard_. " This letter was signed "William Henry Jackson. "

Jacob was not allowed to have his letters in those days, until theself-elected inspectors of correspondence had had the perusal ofthem, and consulted over their secret meaning. These wise-acrestherefore assembled, wiped their glasses carefully, put them on, and proceeded to examine this suspicious document. What it meantthey could not imagine. William Henry Jackson had no parents, orbrothers, and the letter was incomprehensible. Study as theymight, no light dawned upon them, but their suspicions becamestronger, and they were sure the letter meant mischief. 

White genius having exhausted itself, black genius was broughtinto requisition. Jacob was sent for, and the letter was placed inhis hands. He read between the lines, and comprehended the hiddenmeaning at once. "Moses" had dictated this letter, and Moses wascoming. The brothers must be on the watch, and ready to join herat a moment's warning. But Moses must hurry, for the word had goneforth that the brothers were to be sent South, and the chain-gangwas being collected. 

Jacob read the letter slowly, threw it down, and said: "Dat lettercan't be meant for me no how; I can't make head or tail of it. "And he walked off and took immediate measures to let Harriet'sbrothers know that she was on the way, and they must be ready atthe given signal to start for the North. 

It was the day before Christmas when Harriet arrived, and thebrothers were to have started on the day after Christmas for theSouth. They started on Christmas-day, but with their faces turnedin another direction, and instead of the chain-gang and the whip, they had the North Star for their guide, and the Moses of herpeople for their leader. 

As usual, this mysterious woman appeared suddenly, and word wasconveyed to the brothers that they were to be at Old Ben's cabinon Saturday night, ready to start. "Old Ben" was their father, andas the parents were not of much use now, Harriet was prettycertain that they would not be sent away, and so she left themtill she had rescued the younger and more valuable members of thefamily. 

Quite a number had assembled at the cabin when the hour came forstarting, but one brother was missing. Something had detainedJohn; but when the time for starting had struck, Harriet's wordwas "forward, " and she "nebber waited for no one. "

Poor John was ready to start from his cabin in the negro quarterwhen his wife was taken ill, and in an hour or two another littleheir to the blessings of slavery had come into the world. 

John must go off for a "Granny, " and being a faithful, affectionate creature, he could not leave his wife under thepresent circumstances. 

After the birth of the child he determined to start. The North andfreedom, or the South and life-long slavery, were the alternativesbefore him; and this was his last chance. If he once reached theNorth, he hoped with the help of Moses to bring his wife andchildren there. 

Again and again he tried to start out of the door, but a watchfuleye was on him, and he was always arrested by the question, "Whereyou gwine, John?" His wife had not been informed of the dangerhanging over his head, but she knew he was uneasy, and she fearedhe was meditating a plan of escape. John told her he was going totry to get hired out on Christmas to another man, as that was theday on which such changes were made. 

He left the house but stood near the window listening. He heardhis wife sobbing and moaning, and not being able to endure it hewent back to her. "Oh, John!" she cried, "you's gwine to lebe me!I know it! but wherebber you go, John, don't forgit me an' delittle children. "

John assured her that wherever he went she should come. He mightnot come for her, but he would send Moses, and then he hurriedaway. He had many miles to walk to his old father's cabin, wherehe knew the others would be waiting for him, and at daybreak heovertook them in the "fodder house, " not far from the home of theold people. 

At that time Harriet had not seen her mother for six years, butshe did not dare to let her know that four of her children were sonear her on their way to the North, for she would have raised suchan uproar in her efforts to detain them, that the wholeneighborhood would have been aroused. 

The poor old woman had been expecting her sons to spend Christmaswith her as usual. She had been hard at work in preparation fortheir arrival. The fatted pig had been killed, and had beenconverted into every form possible to the flesh of swine; pork, bacon and sausages were ready, but the boys did not come, andthere she sat watching and waiting. 

In the night when Harriet with two of her brothers, and two otherfugitives who had joined them arrived at the "fodder house, " theywere exhausted and well-nigh famished. They sent the two strangemen up to the cabin to try to rouse "Old Ben, " but not to lettheir mother know that her children were so near her. 

The men succeeded in rousing Old Ben, who came out quietly, and assoon as he heard their story, went back into the house, gatheredtogether a quantity of provisions, and came down to the fodderhouse. He placed the provisions inside the door, saying a fewwords of welcome to his children, but taking care _not to seethem_. "I know what'll come of dis, " he said, "an' I ain't gwineto see my chillen, no how. " The close espionage under which thesepoor creatures dwelt, engendered in them a cunning and artifice, which to them seemed only a fair and right attempt on their part, to cope with power and cruelty constantly in force against them. 

Up among the ears of corn lay the old man's children, and one ofthem he had not seen for six years. It rained in torrents all thatSunday, and there they lay among the corn, for they could notstart till night. At about daybreak John had joined them. Therewere wide chinks in the boards of the fodder house, and throughthese they could see the cabin of the old folks, now quite alonein their old age. All day long, every few minutes, they would seethe old woman come out, and shading her eyes with her hand, take along look down the road to see if "de boys" were coming, and thenwith a sad and disappointed air she would turn back into thecabin, and they could almost hear her sigh as she did so. 

What had become of the boys? Had they been sold off down South?Had they tried to escape and been retaken? Would she never seethem or hear of them more?

I have often heard it said by Southern people that "niggers had nofeeling; they did not care when their children were taken fromthem. " I have seen enough of them to know that their love fortheir offspring is quite equal to that of the "superior race, " andit is enough to hear the tale of Harriet's endurance and self-sacrificeto rescue her brothers and sisters, to convince one thata heart, truer and more loving than that of many a white woman, dwelt in her bosom. I am quite willing to acknowledge that she wasalmost an anomaly among her people, but I have known many of herfamily, and so far as I can judge they all seem to be peculiarlyintelligent, upright and religious people, and to have a strongfeeling of family affection. There may be many among the coloredrace like them; certainly all should not be judged by the idle, miserable darkies who have swarmed about Washington and othercities since the War. 

Two or three times while the group of fugitives were concealed inthis loft of the fodder house, the old man came down and pushedfood inside the door, and after nightfall he came again toaccompany his children as far as he dared, upon their journey. When he reached the fodder house, he tied a handkerchief tightabout his eyes, and one of his sons taking him by one arm, andHarriet taking him by the other, they went on their way talking inlow tones together, asking and answering questions as to relativesand friends. 

The time of parting came, and they bade him farewell, and left himstanding in the middle of the road. When he could no longer heartheir footsteps he turned back, and taking the handkerchief fromhis eyes, he hastened home. 

But before Harriet and her brothers left, they had gone up to thecabin during the evening to take a silent farewell of the poor oldmother. Through the little window of the cabin they saw hersitting by the fire, her head on her hand, rocking back and forth, as was her way when she was in great trouble; praying, no doubt, and wondering what had become of her children, and what new evilhad befallen them. 

With streaming eyes, they watched her for ten or fifteen minutes;but time was precious, and they must reach their next under-groundstation before daylight, and so they turned sadly away. 

When Christmas was over, and the men had not returned, there beganto be no small stir in the plantation from which they had escaped. The first place to search, of course, was the home of the oldpeople. At the "Big House" nothing had been seen of them. Themaster said "they had generally come up there to see the houseservants, when they came for Christmas, but this time they hadn'tbeen round at all. Better go down to Old Ben's, and ask him. "

They went to Old Ben's. No one was at home but "Old Kit, " themother. She said "not one of 'em came dis Christmas. She waslooking for 'em all day, an' her heart was mos' broke about 'em. "

Old Ben was found and questioned about his sons. Old Ben said, "Hehadn't _seen one_ of 'em dis Christmas. " With all his deepreligious feeling, Old Ben thought that in such a case as this, itwas enough for him to keep to the _letter_, and let the manhunters find his sons if they could. Old Ben knew the OldTestament stories well. Perhaps he thought of Rahab who hid thespies, and received a commendation for it. Perhaps of Jacob andAbraham, and some of their rather questionable proceedings. Heknew the New Testament also, but I think perhaps he thought thekind and loving Saviour would have said to him, "Neither do Icondemn thee. " I doubt if he had read Mrs. Opie, and I wonder whatjudgment that excellent woman would have given in a case likethis. 

These poor fugitives, hunted like partridges upon the mountains, or like the timid fox by the eager sportsman, were obliged inself-defense to meet cunning with cunning, and to borrow from thebirds and animals their mode of eluding their pursuers by anydevice which in the exigency of the case might present itself tothem. They had a creed of their own, and a code of morals which wedare not criticise till we find our own lives and those of ourdear ones similarly imperiled. 

One of Harriet's other brothers had long been attached to a prettymulatto girl named Catherine, who was owned by another master; butthis man had other views for her, and would not let her marryWilliam Henry. On one of Harriet's journeys this brother had madeup his mind to make one of her next party to the North, and thatCatherine should go also. He went to a tailor's and bought a newsuit of clothes for a small person, and concealed them inside thefence of the garden of Catherine's master. This garden ran down tothe bank of a little stream, and Catherine had been notified whereto find the clothes. When the time came to get ready, Catherineboldly walked down to the foot of the garden, took up the bundle, and hiding under the bank, she put on the man's garments and senther own floating down the stream. 

She was soon missed, and all the girls in the house were set tolooking for Catherine. Presently they saw coming up from the rivera well-dressed little darkey boy, and they all ceased looking forCatherine, and stared at him. He walked directly by them, roundthe house, and out of the gate, without the slightest suspicionbeing excited as to who he was. In a few weeks from that time, this party were all safe in Canada. 

William Henry died in Canada, but I have seen and talked withCatherine at Harriet's house. 

I am not quite certain which company it was that was under herguidance on their Northward way, but at one time when a number ofmen were following her, she received one of her sudden intimationsthat danger was ahead. "Chillen, " she said, "we must stop here andcross dis ribber. " They were on the bank of a stream of somewidth, and apparently a deep and rapid one. The men were afraid tocross; there was no bridge and no boat; but like her greatpattern, she went forward into the waters, and the men not knowingwhat else to do, followed, but with fear and trembling. The streamdid not divide to make a way for them to cross over, but to herwas literally fulfilled the promise:

 "When through the deep waters I cause thee to go, The rivers of sorrow shall not overflow. "

"For, " said she, "Missus, de water never came above my chin; whenwe thought surely we were all going under, it became shallower andshallower, and we came out safe on the odder side. " Then there wasanother stream to cross, which was also passed in safety. Theyfound afterward that a few rods ahead of them the advertisement ofthese escaping fugitives was posted up, and the officers, forewarned of their coming, were waiting for them. But though theLord thus marvelously protected her from capture, she did notalways escape the consequences of exposure like this. It was inMarch that this passage of the streams was effected, and theweather was raw and cold; Harriet traveled a long distance in herwet clothing, and was afterward very ill for a long time with avery severe cold. I have often heard her tell this story; but someof the incidents, particularly that of her illness, were notmentioned by herself, but were written me by friend Garrett. 

I hardly know how to approach the subject of the spiritualexperiences of my sable heroine. They seem so to enter into therealm of the supernatural, that I can hardly wonder that those whonever knew her are ready to throw discredit upon the story. Ridicule has been cast upon the whole tale of her adventures bythe advocates of human slavery; and perhaps by those who wouldtell with awe-struck countenance some tale of ghostly visitation, or spiritual manifestation, at a dimly lighted "_seance_. "

Had I not known so well her deeply religious character, and herconscientious veracity, and had I not since the war, and when shewas an inmate of my own house, seen such remarkable instances ofwhat seemed to be her direct intercourse with heaven, I should notdare to risk my own character for veracity by making these thingspublic in this manner. 

But when I add that I have the strongest testimonials to hercharacter for integrity from William H. Seward, Gerritt Smith, Wendell Phillips, Fred. Douglass, and my brother, Prof. S. M. Hopkins, who has known her for many years, I do not fear to bravethe incredulity of any reader. 

Governor Seward wrote of her:

"I have known Harriet long, and a nobler, higher spirit, or atruer, seldom dwells in human form. "

Gerritt Smith, the distinguished philanthropist, was so kind as towrite me expressing his gratification that I had undertaken thiswork, and added:

"I have often listened to Harriet with delight on her visits to myfamily, and I am convinced that she is not only truthful, but thatshe has a rare discernment, and a deep and sublime philanthropy. "

Wendell Phillips wrote me, mentioning that in Boston, Harrietearned the confidence and admiration of all those who were workingfor freedom; and speaking of her labors during the war, he added:"In my opinion there are few captains, perhaps few colonels, whohave done more for the loyal cause since the war began, and fewmen who did more before that time, for the colored race, than ourfearless and sagacious friend. "

Many other letters I received; from Mr. Sanborn, Secretary of theMassachusetts Board of Charities, from Fred. Douglass, from Rev. Henry Fowler, and from Union officers at the South during the war, all speaking in the highest praise and admiration of the characterand labors of my black heroine. 

Many of her passes also were sent me; in which she is spoken of as"Moses, " for by that name she was universally known. For the storyof her heroic deeds had gone before her, and the testimony of allwho knew her accorded with the words of Mr. Seward:

"The cause of freedom owes her much; the country owes her much. "And yet the country was not willing to pay her anything. Mr. Seward's efforts, seconded by other distinguished men, to get apension for her, were sneered at in Congress as absurd andquixotic, and the effort failed. 

Secretary Seward, from whom Harriet purchased her little placenear Auburn, died. The place had been mortgaged when this noblewoman left her home, and threw herself into the work needed forthe Union cause; the mortgage was to be foreclosed. The oldparents, then nearly approaching their centennial year, were to beturned out to die in a poor-house, when the sudden determinationwas taken to send out a little sketch of her life to thebenevolent public, in the hope of redeeming the little home. Thisobject, through the kindness of friends, was accomplished. The oldpeople died in Harriet's own home, breathing blessings upon herfor her devotion to them. 

Now another necessity has arisen, and our sable friend, who neverhas been known to beg for herself, asks once more for help inaccomplishing a favorite project for the good of her people. This, as she says, is "her last work, and she only prays de Lord to lether live till it is well started, and den she is ready to go. "This work is the building of a hospital for old and disabledcolored people; and in this she has already had the sympathy andaid of the good people of Auburn; the mayor and his noble wifehaving given her great assistance in the meetings she has held inaid of this object. It is partly to aid her in this work, on whichshe has so set her heart, that this story of her life and laborsis being re-written. 

At one time, when she felt called upon to go down for some companyof slaves, she was, as she knew, watched for everywhere (for therehad been an excited meeting of slave-holders, and they weredetermined to catch her, dead or alive), her friends gatheredround her, imploring her not to go on in the face of danger anddeath, for they were sure she would never be allowed to return. And this was her answer:

"Now look yer! John saw de City, didn't he?" "Yes, John saw deCity. " "Well, what did he see? He saw twelve gates, didn't he?Three of dose gates was on de north; three of 'em was on de east;an' three of 'em was on de west; but dere was three more, an' demwas on de _south_; an' I reckon, if dey kill me down dere, I'llgit into one of dem gates, don't you?"

Whether Harriet's ideas of the geographical bearings of the gatesof the Celestial City as seen in the apocalyptic vision, werecorrect or not, we cannot doubt that she was right in thededuction her faith drew from them; and that somewhere, whetherNorth, East, South, or West, to our dim vision, there is a gatethat will be opened for our good Harriet, where the welcome willbe given, "Come in, thou blessed of my Father. "

It is a peculiarity of Harriet, that she had seldom been known tointimate a wish that anything should be given to herself; but whenher people are in need, no scruples of delicacy stand in the wayof her petitions, nay, almost her _demands_ for help. 

When, after rescuing so many others, and all of her brothers andsisters that could be reached, with their children, she receivedan intimation in some mysterious or supernatural way, that the oldpeople were in trouble and needed her, she asked the Lord whereshe should go for the money to enable her to go for them. She wasin some way, as she supposed, directed to the office of a certaingentleman, a friend of the slaves, in New York. When she left thehouse of the friends with whom she was staying, she said: "I'mgwine to Mr. ------'s office, an' I ain't gwine to lebe dere, an'I ain't gwine to eat or drink, till I get money enough to take medown after de ole people. "

She went into this gentleman's office. 

"How do you do, Harriet? What do you want?" was the firstgreeting. 

"I want some money, sir. "

"_You do_! How much do you want?"

"I want twenty dollars, sir!"

"_Twenty dollars_! Who told you to come here for twenty dollars!"

"De Lord tole me, sir. "

"He did; well I guess the Lord's mistaken this time. "

"No, sir; de Lord's nebber mistaken! Anyhow I'm gwine to sit heretill I get it. "

So she sat down and went to sleep. All the morning, and all theafternoon, she sat there still; sometimes sleeping, sometimesrousing up, often finding the office full of gentlemen; sometimesfinding herself alone. Many fugitives were passing through NewYork at this time, and those who came in supposed her to be one ofthem, tired out, and resting. Sometimes she would be roused upwith the words:

"Come, Harriet! You had better go; there's no money for you here. "

"No, sir; I'm not gwine to stir from here till I git my twentydollars!"

She does not know all that happened, for deep sleep fell upon her;probably one of the turns of somnolency to which she has alwaysbeen subject; but without doubt her story was whispered from oneto another, and as her name and exploits were well known to manypersons, the sympathies of some of those visitors to the officewere aroused; at all events she came to full consciousness, atlast, to find herself the happy possessor of _sixty dollars_, thecontribution of these strangers. She went on her way rejoicing tobring her old parents from the land of bondage. 

When she reached their home, she found that her old father was tobe tried the next Monday for helping off slaves. And so, as shesays in her forcible language, "I just removed my father's trialto a higher court, and brought him off to Canada. "

The manner of their escape is detailed in the following letterfrom friend Garrett:

 WILMINGTON, 6th Mo. , 1868. 

MY FRIEND: Thy favor of the 12th reached me yesterday, requestingsuch reminiscences as I could give respecting the remarkablelabors of Harriet Tubman, in aiding her colored friends frombondage. I may begin by saying, living as I have in a slave State, and the laws being very severe where any proof could be made ofany one aiding slaves on their way to freedom, I have not felt atliberty to keep any written word of Harriet's or my own labors, except in numbering those whom I have aided. For that reason Icannot furnish so interesting an account of Harriet's labors as Iotherwise could, and now would be glad to do; for in truth I nevermet with any person, of any color, who had more confidence in thevoice of God, as spoken direct to her soul. She has frequentlytold me that she talked with God, and he talked with her every dayof her life, and she has declared to me that she felt no more fearof being arrested by her former master, or any other person, whenin his immediate neighborhood, than she did in the State of NewYork, or Canada, for she said she never ventured only where Godsent her, and her faith in the Supreme Power truly was great. 

I have now been confined to my room with indisposition more thanfour weeks, and cannot sit to write much; but I feel so muchinterested in Harriet, that I will try to give some of the mostremarkable incidents that now present themselves to my mind. Thedate of the commencement of her labors, I cannot certainly give;but I think it must have been about 1845; from that time till1860, I think she must have brought from the neighborhood whereshe had been held as a slave, from 60 to 80 persons, [C] fromMaryland, some 80 miles from here. No slave who placed himselfunder her care, was ever arrested that I have heard of; she mostlyhad her regular stopping places on her route; but in one instance, when she had several stout men with her, some 30 miles below here, she said that God told her to stop, which she did; and then askedhim what she must do. He told her to leave the road, and turn tothe left; she obeyed, and soon came to a small stream of tidewater; there was no boat, no bridge; she again inquired of herGuide what she was to do. She was told to go through. It was cold, in the month of March; but having confidence in her Guide, shewent in; the water came up to her armpits; the men refused tofollow till they saw her safe on the opposite shore. They thenfollowed, and, if I mistake not, she had soon to wade a secondstream; soon after which she came to a cabin of colored people, who took them all in, put them to bed, and dried their clothes, ready to proceed next night on their journey. Harriet had run outof money, and gave them some of her underclothing to pay for theirkindness. When she called on me two days after, she was so hoarseshe could hardly speak, and was also suffering with violenttoothache. The strange part of the story we found to be, that themasters of these men had put up the previous day, at the railroadstation near where she left, an advertisement for them, offering alarge reward for their apprehension; but they made a safe exit. She at one time brought as many as seven or eight, several of whomwere women and children. She was well known here in Chester Countyand Philadelphia, and respected by all true abolitionists. I hadbeen in the habit of furnishing her and those who accompanied her, as she returned from her acts of mercy, with new shoes; and on oneoccasion when I had not seen her for three months, she came intomy store. I said, "Harriet, I am glad to see thee! I suppose theewants a pair of new shoes. " Her reply was, "I want more thanthat. " I, in jest, said, "I have always been liberal with thee, and wish to be; but I am not rich, and cannot afford to givemuch. " Her reply was: "God tells me you have money for me. " Iasked her "if God never deceived her?" She said, "No!" "Well! howmuch does thee want?" After studying a moment, she said: "Abouttwenty-three dollars. " I then gave her twenty-four dollars andsome odd cents, the net proceeds of five pounds sterling, receivedthrough Eliza Wigham, of Scotland, for her. I had given someaccounts of Harriet's labor to the Anti-Slavery Society ofEdinburgh, of which Eliza Wigham was Secretary. On the reading ofmy letter, a gentleman present said he would send Harriet fourpounds if he knew of any way to get it to her. Eliza Wighamoffered to forward it to me for her, and that was the first moneyever received by me for her. Some twelve months after, she calledon me again, and said that God told her I had some money for her, but not so much as before. I had, a few days previous, receivedthe net proceeds of one pound ten shillings from Europe for her. To say the least there was something remarkable in these facts, whether clairvoyance, or the divine impression on her mind fromthe source of all power, I cannot tell; but certain it was she hada guide within herself other than the written word, for she neverhad any education. She brought away her aged parents in a singularmanner. They started with an old horse, fitted out in primitivestyle with a _straw collar_, a pair of old chaise wheels, with aboard on the axle to sit on, another board swung with ropes, fastened to the axle, to rest their feet on. She got her parents, who were both slaves belonging to different masters, on this rudevehicle to the railroad, put them in the cars, turned Jehuherself, and drove to town in a style that no human being ever didbefore or since; but she was happy at having arrived safe. Nextday, I furnished her with money to take them all to Canada. Iafterward sold their horse, and sent them the balance of theproceeds. I believe that Harriet succeeded in freeing all herrelatives but one sister and her three children. Etc. , etc. Thy friend, THOS. GARRETT. 

[Footnote C: Friend Garrett probably refers here to those whopassed through his hands. Harriet was obliged to come by manydifferent routes on her different journeys, and though she nevercounted those whom she brought away with her, it would seem, bythe computation of others, that there must have been somewhat overthree hundred brought by her to the Northern States and Canada. ]

As I have before stated, with all Harriet's reluctance to ask foranything for herself, no matter how great her needs may be, nosuch scruples trouble her if any of her people are in need. Shenever hesitates to call upon her kind friends in Auburn and inother places for help when her people are in want. At one time, when some such emergency had arisen, she went to see her friend, Governor Seward, and boldly presented her case to him. 

"Harriet, " he said, "you have worked for others long enough. Ifyou would ever ask anything for yourself, I would gladly give itto you, but I will not help you to rob yourself for others anylonger. "

In spite of this apparent roughness, we may be sure Harriet didnot leave this noble man's house empty handed. 

And here I am reminded of a touching little circumstance thatoccurred at the funeral of Secretary Seward. 

The great man lay in his coffin. Friends, children, and admirerswere gathered there. Everything that love and wealth could do hadbeen done; around him were floral emblems of every possible shapeand design, that human ingenuity could suggest, or money couldpurchase. Just before the coffin was to be closed, a woman blackas night stole quietly in, and laying a wreath of field flowers_on his feet_, as quietly glided out again. This was the simpletribute of our sable friend, and her last token of love andgratitude to her kind benefactor. I think he would have said, "This woman hath done more than ye all. "

While preparing this second edition of Harriet's story, I havebeen much pleased to find that that good man, Oliver Johnson, isstill living and in New York City. And I have just returned from avery pleasant interview with him. He remembers Harriet with greatpleasure, though he has not seen her for many years. He speaks, asall who knew her do, of his entire confidence in her truthfulnessand in the perfect integrity of her character. 

He remembered her coming into his office with Joe, as I havestated it, and said he wished he could recall to me otherincidents connected with her. But during those years, there weresuch numbers of fugitive slaves coming into the Anti-SlaveryOffice, that he might not tell the incidents of any one groupcorrectly. No records were kept, as that would be so unsafe forthe poor creatures, and those who aided them. He said, "You knowHarriet never spoke of anything she had done, as if it was at allremarkable, or as if it deserved any commendation, but I rememberone day, when she came into the office there was a Boston ladythere, a warm-hearted, impulsive woman, who was engaged heart andhand in the Anti-Slavery cause. 

"Harriet was telling, in her simple way, the story of her lastjourney. A party of fugitives were to meet her in a wood, that shemight conduct them North. For some unexplained reason they did notcome. Night came on and with it a blinding snow storm and a ragingwind. She protected herself behind a tree as well as she could, and remained all night alone exposed to the fury of the storm. "

"'Why, Harriet!' said this lady, 'didn't you almost feel when youwere lying alone, as if there was _no God_?' 'Oh, no! missus, 'said Harriet, looking up in her child-like, simple way, 'I jestasked Jesus to take keer of me, an' He never let me git _frost-bitten_one bit. '"

In 1860 the first gun was fired from Fort Sumter; and this was thesignal for a rush to arms at the North and the South, and the warof the rebellion was begun. Troops were hurried off from the Northto the West and the South, and battles raged in every part of theSouthern States. By land and by sea, and on the Southern rivers, the conflict raged, and thousands and thousands of brave men shedtheir blood for what was maintained by each side to be the trueprinciple. 

This war our brave heroine had expected, and its result, theemancipation of the slaves. Three years before, while staying withthe Rev. Henry Highland Garnet in New York, a vision came to herin the night of the emancipation of her people. Whether a dream, or one of those glimpses into the future, which sometimes seem tohave been granted to her, no one can say, but the effect upon herwas very remarkable. 

She rose singing, "_My people are free!" "My people are free_!"She came down to breakfast singing the words in a sort of ecstasy. She could not eat. The dream or vision filled her whole soul, andphysical needs were forgotten. 

Mr. Garnet said to her:

"Oh, Harriet! Harriet! You've come to torment us before the time;do cease this noise! My grandchildren may see the day of theemancipation of our people, but you and I will never see it. "

"I tell you, sir, you'll see it, and you'll see it soon. My peopleare free! My people are free. "

When, three years later, President Lincoln's proclamation ofemancipation was given forth, and there was a great jubilee amongthe friends of the slaves, Harriet was continually asked, "Why doyou not join with the rest in their rejoicing!" "Oh, " sheanswered, "I had _my_ jubilee three years ago. I rejoiced all Icould den; I can't rejoice no more. "

In some of the Southern States, spies and scouts were needed tolead our armies into the interior. The ignorant and degradedslaves feared the "Yankee Buckra" more than they did their ownmasters, and after the proclamation of President Lincoln, givingfreedom to the slaves, a person in whom these poor creatures couldtrust, was needed to assure them that these white Northern menwere friends, and that they would be safe, trusting themselves intheir hands. 

In the early days of the war, Governor Andrew of Massachusetts, knowing well the brave and sagacious character of Harriet, sentfor her, and asked her if she could go at a moment's notice, toact as spy and scout for our armies, and, if need be, to act ashospital nurse, in short, to be ready to give any required serviceto the Union cause. 

There was much to be thought of; there were the old folks in thelittle home up in Auburn, there was the little farm of which shehad taken the sole care; there were many dependents for whom shehad provided by her daily toil. What was to become of them all ifshe deserted them? But the cause of the Union seemed to need herservices, and after a few moments of reflection, she determined toleave all else, and go where it seemed that duty called her. 

During those few years, the wants of the old people and ofHarriet's other dependents were attended to by the kind people ofAuburn. At that time, I often saw the old people, and wroteletters for them to officers at the South, asking from themtidings of Harriet. I received many letters in reply, alltestifying to her faithfulness and bravery, and her untiring zealfor the welfare of our soldiers, black and white. She was oftenunder fire from both armies; she led our forces through the jungleand the swamp, guided by an unseen hand. She gained the confidenceof the slaves by her cheery words, and songs, and sacred hymns, and obtained from them much valuable information. She nursed oursoldiers in the hospitals, and knew how, when they were dying bynumbers of some malignant disease, with cunning skill to extractfrom roots and herbs, which grew near the source of the disease, the healing draught, which allayed the fever and restored numbersto health. 

It is a shame to our government that such a valuable helper asthis woman was not allowed pay or pension; but even was obliged tosupport herself during those days of incessant toil. Officers andmen were paid. Indeed many enlisted from no patriotic motive, butbecause they were insured a support which they could not procurefor themselves at home. But this woman sacrificed everything, andleft her nearest and dearest, and risked her life hundreds oftimes for the cause of the Union, without one cent of recompense. She returned at last to her little home, to find it a scene ofdesolation. Her little place about to be sold to satisfy amortgage, and herself without the means to redeem it. 

Harriet was one of John Brown's "men. " His brave and daring spiritfound ready sympathy in her courageous heart; she sheltered him inher home in Canada, and helped him to plan his campaigns. I findin the life and letters of this remarkable man, written by Mr. F. B. Sanborn, occasional mention of Harriet, and her deep interestin Captain Brown's enterprises. 

At one time he writes to his son from St. Catherine's, Canada:

"I came on here the day after you left Rochester. I am succeedingto all appearance beyond my expectations. Harriet Tubman _hookedon her whole team at once_. He (Harriet) is the most of a mannaturally that I ever met with. There is abundant material hereand of the right quality. " She suggested the 4th of July to him asthe time to begin operations. And Mr. Sanborn adds: "It was aboutthe 4th of July, as Harriet, the African sybil, had suggested, that Brown first showed himself in the counties of Washington andJefferson, on opposite sides of the lordly Potomac. "

I find among her papers, many of which are defaced by beingcarried about with her for years, portions of these lettersaddressed to myself, by persons at the South, and speaking of thevaluable assistance Harriet was rendering our soldiers in thehospital, and our armies in the field. At this time her manner oflife, as related by herself, was this:

"Well, missus, I'd go to de hospital, I would, early eb'rymornin'. I'd get a big chunk of ice, I would, and put it in abasin, and fill it with water; den I'd take a sponge and begin. Fust man I'd come to, I'd thrash away de flies, and dey'd rise, dey would, like bees roun' a hive. Den I'd begin to bathe derwounds, an' by de time I'd bathed off three or four, de fire andheat would have melted de ice and made de water warm, an' it wouldbe as red as clar blood. Den I'd go an' git more ice, I would, an'by de time I got to de nex' ones, de flies would be roun' de fustones black an' thick as eber. " In this way she worked, day afterday, till late at night; then she went home to her little cabin, and made about fifty pies, a great quantity of ginger-bread, andtwo casks of root beer. These she would hire some contraband tosell for her through the camps, and thus she would provide hersupport for another day; for this woman never received pay orpension, and never drew for herself but twenty days' rationsduring the four years of her labors. At one time she was calledaway from Hilton Head, by one of our officers, to come toFernandina, where the men were "dying off like sheep, " fromdysentery. Harriet had acquired quite a reputation for her skillin curing this disease, by a medicine which she prepared fromroots which grew near the waters which gave the disease. Here shefound thousands of sick soldiers and contrabands, and immediatelygave up her time and attention to them. At another time, we findher nursing those who were down by hundreds with small-pox andmalignant fevers. She had never had these diseases, but she seemsto have no more fear of death in one form than another. "De Lordwould take keer of her till her time came, an' den she was readyto go. "

When our armies and gun-boats first appeared in any part of theSouth, many of the poor negroes were as much afraid of "de YankeeBuckra" as of their own masters. It was almost impossible to wintheir confidence, or to get information from them. But to Harrietthey would tell anything; and so it became quite important thatshe should accompany expeditions going up the rivers, or intounexplored parts of the country, to control and get informationfrom those whom they took with them as guides. 

General Hunter asked her at one time if she would go with severalgun-boats up the Combahee River, the object of the expeditionbeing to take up the torpedoes placed by the rebels in the river, to destroy railroads and bridges, and to cut off supplies from therebel troops. She said she would go if Colonel Montgomery was tobe appointed commander of the expedition. Colonel Montgomery wasone of John Brown's men, and was well known to Harriet. Accordingly, Colonel Montgomery was appointed to the command, andHarriet, with several men under her, the principal of whom was J. Plowden, whose pass I have, accompanied the expedition. Harrietdescribes in the most graphic manner the appearance of theplantations as they passed up the river; the frightened negroesleaving their work and taking to the woods, at sight of the gun-boats;then coming to peer out like startled deer, and scuddingaway like the wind at the sound of the steam-whistle. "Well, " saidone old negro, "Mas'r said de Yankees had horns and tails, but Inebber beliebed it till now. " But the word was passed along by themysterious telegraphic communication existing among these simplepeople, that these were "Lincoln's gun-boats come to set themfree. " In vain, then, the drivers used their whips in theirefforts to hurry the poor creatures back to their quarters; theyall turned and ran for the gun-boats. They came down every road, across every field, just as they had left their work and theircabins; women with children clinging around their necks, hangingto their dresses, running behind, all making at full speed for"Lincoln's gun-boats. " Eight hundred poor wretches at one timecrowded the banks, with their hands extended toward theirdeliverers, and they were all taken off upon the gun-boats, andcarried down to Beaufort. 

"I nebber see such a sight, " said Harriet; "we laughed, an'laughed, an' laughed. Here you'd see a woman wid a pail on herhead, rice a smokin' in it jus' as she'd taken it from de fire, young one hangin' on behind, one han' roun' her forehead to holdon, 'tother han' diggin' into de rice-pot, eatin' wid all itsmight; hold of her dress two or three more; down her back a bagwid a pig in it. One woman brought two pigs, a white one an' ablack one; we took 'em all on board; named de white pigBeauregard, and de black pig Jeff Davis. Sometimes de women wouldcome wid twins hangin' roun' der necks; 'pears like I nebber seeso many twins in my life; bags on der shoulders, baskets on derheads, and young ones taggin' behin', all loaded; pigs squealin', chickens screamin', young ones squallin'. " And so they camepouring down to the gun-boats. When they stood on the shore, andthe small boats put out to take them off, they all wanted to getin at once. After the boats were crowded, they would hold on tothem so that they could not leave the shore. The oarsmen wouldbeat them on their hands, but they would not let go; they wereafraid the gun-boats would go off and leave them, and all wantedto make sure of one of these arks of refuge. At length ColonelMontgomery shouted from the upper deck, above the clamor ofappealing tones, "Moses, you'll have to give em a song. " ThenHarriet lifted up her voice, and sang:

 "Of all the whole creation in the East or in the West, The glorious Yankee nation is the greatest and the best. Come along! Come along! don't be alarmed, Uncle Sam is rich enough to give you all a farm. "

At the end of every verse, the negroes in their enthusiasm wouldthrow up their hands and shout "Glory, " and the row-boats wouldtake that opportunity to push off; and so at last they were allbrought on board. The masters fled; houses and barns and railroadbridges were burned, tracks torn up, torpedoes destroyed, and theobject of the expedition was fully accomplished. 

This fearless woman was often sent into the rebel lines as a spy, and brought back valuable information as to the position of armiesand batteries; she has been in battle when the shot was fallinglike hail, and the bodies of dead and wounded men were droppingaround her like leaves in autumn; but the thought of fear neverseems to have had place for a moment in her mind. She had her dutyto perform, and she expected to be taken care of till it was done. 

Would that, instead of taking them in this poor way at second-hand, my readers could hear this woman's graphic accounts ofscenes she herself witnessed, could listen to her imitations ofnegro preachers in their own very peculiar dialect, her singing ofcamp-meeting hymns, her account of "experience meetings, " herimitations of the dances, and the funeral ceremonies of thesesimple people. "Why, der language down dar in de far South is jus'as different from ours in Maryland as you can tink, " said she. "Dey laughed when dey heard me talk, an' I could not understanddem, no how. " She described a midnight funeral which she attended;for the slaves, never having been allowed to bury their dead inthe day-time, continued the custom of night funerals from habit. 

The corpse was laid upon the ground, and the people all sat round, the group being lighted up by pine torches. 

The old negro preacher began by giving out a hymn, which was sungby all. "An' oh! I wish you could hear 'em sing, Missus, " saidHarriet. "Der voices is so sweet, and dey can sing eberyting wesing, an' den dey can sing a great many hymns dat we can't nebbercatch at all. "

The old preacher began his sermon by pointing to the dead man, wholay in a rude box on the ground before him. 

"_Shum_? Ded-a-de-dah! _Shum, David_? Ded-a-de-dah! Now I want youall to _flec_' for moment. Who ob all dis congregation is gwinenext to lie ded-e-de-dah? You can't go nowhere's, my frien's andbredren, but Deff 'll fin' you. You can't dig no hole so deep an'bury yourself dar, but God A'mighty's far-seein' eye'll fin' you, an' Deff 'll come arter you. You can't go into that big fort(pointing to Hilton Head), an' shut yourself up dar; dat fort datSesh Buckra said the debil couldn't take, but Deff 'll fin' youdar. All your frien's may forget you, but Deff 'll nebber forgetyou. Now, my bredren, prepare to lie ded-a-de-dah!"

This was the burden of a very long sermon, after which the wholecongregation went round in a sort of solemn dance, called the"spiritual shuffle, " shaking hands with each other, and callingeach other by name as they sang:

 "My sis'r Mary's boun' to go; My sis'r Nanny's boun' to go; My brudder Tony's boun' to go; My brudder July's boun' to go. "

This to the same tune, till every hand had been shaken by everyone of the company. When they came to Harriet, who was a stranger, they sang:

 Eberybody's boun' to go!

The body was then placed in a Government wagon, and by the lightof the pine torches, the strange, dark procession moved along, singing a rude funeral hymn, till they reached the place ofburial. 

Harriet's account of her interview with an old negro she met atHilton Head, is amusing and interesting. He said, "I'd been yereseventy-three years, workin' for my master widout even a dimewages. I'd worked rain-wet sun-dry. I'd worked wid my mouf full ofdust, but could not stop to get a drink of water. I'd beenwhipped, an' starved, an' I was always prayin', 'Oh! Lord, comean' delibber us!' All dat time de birds had been flyin', an' derabens had been cryin', and de fish had been swimmin' in dewaters. One day I look up, an' I see a big cloud; it didn't comeup like as de clouds come out far yonder, but it 'peared to beright ober head. Der was thunders out of dat, an' der waslightnin's. Den I looked down on de water, an' I see, 'peared tome a big house in de water, an' out of de big house came great bigeggs, and de good eggs went on trou' de air, an' fell into defort; an' de bad eggs burst before dey got dar. Den de Sesh Buckrabegin to run, an' de neber stop running till de git to de swamp, an' de stick dar an' de die dar. Den I heard 'twas de Yankeeship[D] firin' out de big eggs, an dey had come to set us free. Den I praise de Lord. He come an' put he little finger in de work, an de Sesh Buckra all go; and de birds stop flyin', and de rabensstop cryin', an' when I go to catch a fish to eat wid my rice, dey's no fish dar. De Lord A'mighty 'd come and frightened 'em allout of de waters. Oh! Praise de Lord! I'd prayed seventy-threeyears, an' now he's come an' we's all free. "

[Footnote D: The _Wabash_. ]

The following account of the subject of this memoir is cut fromthe _Boston Commonwealth_ of 1863, kindly sent the writer by Mr. Sanborn:

"It was said long ago that the true romance of America was not inthe fortunes of the Indian, where Cooper sought it, nor in NewEngland character, where Judd found it, nor in the socialcontrasts of Virginia planters, as Thackeray imagined, but in thestory of the fugitive slaves. The observation is as true now as itwas before War, with swift, gigantic hand, sketched the vastshadows, and dashed in the high lights in which romance loves tolurk and flash forth. But the stage is enlarged on which thesedramas are played, the whole world now sit as spectators, and thedesperation or the magnanimity of a poor black woman has power toshake the nation that so long was deaf to her cries. We write ofone of these heroines, of whom our slave annals are full--a womanwhose career is as extraordinary as the most famous of her sex canshow. 

"Araminta Ross, now known by her married name of Tubman, with hersounding Christian name changed to Harriet, is the grand-daughterof a slave imported from Africa, and has not a drop of white bloodin her veins. Her parents were Benjamin Ross and Harriet Greene, both slaves, but married and faithful to each other. They stilllive in old age and poverty, [E] but free, on a little property atAuburn, N. Y. , which their daughter purchased for them from Mr. Seward, the Secretary of State. She was born, as near as she canremember, in 1820 or in 1821, in Dorchester County, on the Easternshore of Maryland, and not far from the town of Cambridge. She hadten brothers and sisters, of whom three are now living, all at theNorth, and all rescued from slavery by Harriet, before the War. She went back just as the South was preparing to secede, to bringaway a fourth, but before she could reach her, she was dead. Threeyears before, she had brought away her old father and mother, atgreat risk to herself. 

[Footnote E: Both dead for some years. ]

"When Harriet was six years old, she was taken from her mother andcarried ten miles to live with James Cook, whose wife was aweaver, to learn the trade of weaving. While still a mere child, Cook set her to watching his musk-rat traps, which compelled herto wade through the water. It happened that she was once sent whenshe was ill with the measles, and, taking cold from wading in thewater in this condition, she grew very sick, and her motherpersuaded her master to take her away from Cook's until she couldget well. 

"Another attempt was made to teach her weaving, but she would notlearn, for she hated her mistress, and did not want to live athome, as she would have done as a weaver, for it was the customthen to weave the cloth for the family, or a part of it, in thehouse. 

"Soon after she entered her teens she was hired out as a fieldhand, and it was while thus employed that she received a wound, which nearly proved fatal, from the effects of which she stillsuffers. In the fall of the year, the slaves there work in theevening, cleaning up wheat, husking corn, etc. On this occasion, one of the slaves of a farmer named Barrett, left his work, andwent to the village store in the evening. The overseer followedhim, and so did Harriet. When the slave was found, the overseerswore he should be whipped, and called on Harriet, among others, to help tie him. She refused, and as the man ran away, she placedherself in the door to stop pursuit. The overseer caught up atwo-pound weight from the counter and threw it at the fugitive, but itfell short and struck Harriet a stunning blow on the head. It waslong before she recovered from this, and it has left her subjectto a sort of stupor or lethargy at times; coming upon her in themidst of conversation, or whatever she may be doing, and throwingher into a deep slumber, from which she will presently rouseherself, and go on with her conversation or work. 

"After this she lived for five or six years with John Stewart, where at first she worked in the house, but afterward 'hired hertime, ' and Dr. Thompson, son of her master's guardian, 'stood forher, ' that is, was her surety for the payment of what she owed. She employed the time thus hired in the rudest labors, --droveoxen, carted, plowed, and did all the work of a man, --sometimesearning money enough in a year, beyond what she paid her master, 'to buy a pair of steers, ' worth forty dollars. The amount exactedof a woman for her time was fifty or sixty dollars--of a man, onehundred to one hundred and fifty dollars. Frequently Harrietworked for her father, who was a timber inspector, andsuperintended the cutting and hauling of great quantities oftimber for the Baltimore ship-yards. Stewart, his temporarymaster, was a builder, and for the work of Ross used to receive asmuch as five dollars a day sometimes, he being a superior workman. While engaged with her father, she would cut wood, haul logs, etc. Her usual 'stint' was half a cord of wood in a day. 

"Harriet was married somewhere about 1844, to a free colored mannamed John Tubman, but she had no children. For the last two yearsof slavery she lived with Dr. Thompson, before mentioned, her ownmaster not being yet of age, and Dr. T. 's father being hisguardian, as well as the owner of her own father. In 1849 theyoung man died, and the slaves were to be sold, though previouslyset free by an old will. Harriet resolved not to be sold, and so, with no knowledge of the North--having only heard of Pennsylvaniaand New Jersey--she walked away one night alone. She found afriend in a white lady, who knew her story and helped her on herway. After many adventures, she reached Philadelphia, where shefound work and earned a small stock of money. With this money inher purse, she traveled back to Maryland for her husband, but shefound him married to another woman, and no longer caring to livewith her. This, however, was not until two years after her escape, for she does not seem to have reached her old home in the firsttwo expeditions. In December, 1850, she had visited Baltimore andbrought away her sister and two children, who had come up fromCambridge in a boat, under charge of her sister's husband, a freeblack. A few months after she had brought away her brother and twoother men, but it was not till the fall of 1851, that she foundher husband and learned of his infidelity. She did not give way torage or grief, but collected a party of fugitives and brought themsafely to Philadelphia. In December of the same year, shereturned, and led out a party of eleven, among them her brotherand his wife. With these she journeyed to Canada, and there spentthe winter, for this was after the enforcement of Mason's FugitiveSlave Bill in Philadelphia and Boston, and there was no safetyexcept 'under the paw of the British Lion, ' as she quaintly said. But the first winter was terribly severe for these poor runaways. They earned their bread by chopping wood in the snows of aCanadian forest; they were frost-bitten, hungry, and naked. Harriet was their good angel. She kept house for her brother, andthe poor creatures boarded with her. She worked for them, beggedfor them, prayed for them, with the strange familiarity ofcommunion with God which seems natural to these people, andcarried them by the help of God through the hard winter. 

"In the spring she returned to the States, and as usual earnedmoney by working in hotels and families as a cook. From Cape May, in the fall of 1852, she went back once more to Maryland, andbrought away nine more fugitives. 

"Up to this time she had expended chiefly her own money in theseexpeditions--money which she had earned by hard work in thedrudgery of the kitchen. Never did any one more exactly fulfillthe sense of George Herbert--

 "'A servant with this clause Makes drudgery divine. '

"But it was not possible for such virtues long to remain hiddenfrom the keen eyes of the Abolitionists. She became known toThomas Garrett, the large-hearted Quaker of Wilmington, who hasaided the escape of three thousand fugitives; she found warmfriends in Philadelphia and New York, and wherever she went. Thesegave her money, which he never spent for her own use, but laid upfor the help of her people, and especially for her journeys backto the 'land of Egypt, ' as she called her old home. By reason ofher frequent visits there, always carrying away some of theoppressed, she got among her people the name of 'Moses, ' which itseems she still retains. 

"Between 1852 and 1857, she made but two of these journeys, inconsequence partly of the increased vigilance of the slave-holders, who had suffered so much by the loss of their property. Agreat reward was offered for her capture and she several times wason the point of being taken, but always escaped by her quick wit, or by 'warnings' from Heaven--for it is time to notice onesingular trait in her character. She is the most shrewd andpractical person in the world, yet she is a firm believer inomens, dreams, and warnings. She declares that before her escapefrom slavery, she used to dream of flying over fields and towns, and rivers and mountains, looking down upon them 'like a bird, 'and reaching at last a great fence, or sometimes a river, overwhich she would try to fly, 'but it 'peared like I wouldn't hab destrength, and jes as I was sinkin' down, dere would be ladies alldrest in white ober dere, and dey would put out dere arms and pullme 'cross. ' There is nothing strange in this, perhaps, but shedeclares that when she came North she remembered these very placesas those she had seen in her dreams, and many of the ladies whobefriended her were those she had been helped by in her vision. 

"Then she says she always knows when there is danger near her--shedoes not know how, exactly, but ''pears like my heart go flutter, flutter, and den dey may say "Peace, Peace, " as much as dey likes, _I know its gwine to be war_!' She is very firm on this point, andascribes to this her great impunity, in spite of the lethargybefore mentioned, which would seem likely to throw her into thehands of her enemies. She says she inherited this power, that herfather could always predict the weather, and that he foretold theMexican war. 

"In 1857 she made her most venturesome journey, for she broughtwith her to the North her old parents, who were no longer able towalk such distances as she must go by night. Consequently she musthire a wagon for them, and it required all her ingenuity to getthem through Maryland and Delaware safe. She accomplished it, however, and by the aid of her friends she brought them safe toCanada, where they spent the winter. Her account of theirsufferings there--of her mother's complaining and her ownphilosophy about it--is a lesson of trust in Providence betterthan many sermons. But she decided to bring them to a morecomfortable place, and so she negotiated with Mr. Seward--then inthe Senate--for a little patch of ground. To the credit of theSecretary of State it should be said, that he sold her theproperty on very favorable terms, and gave her some time forpayment. To this house she removed her parents, and set herself towork to pay for the purchase. It was on this errand that she firstvisited Boston--we believe in the winter of 1858-59. She brought afew letters from her friends in New York, but she could herselfneither read nor write, and she was obliged to trust to her witsthat they were delivered to the right persons. One of them, as ithappened, was to the present writer, who received it by anotherhand, and called to see her at her boarding-house. It was curiousto see the caution with which she received her visitor until shefelt assured that there was no mistake. One of her means ofsecurity was to carry with her the daguerreotypes of her friends, and show them to each new person. If they recognized the likeness, then it was all right. 

"Pains were taken to secure her the attention to which her greatservices of humanity entitled her, and she left New England with ahandsome sum of money toward the payment of her debt to Mr. Seward. Before she left, however, she had several interviews withCaptain Brown, then in Boston. He is supposed to have communicatedhis plans to her, and to have been aided by her in obtainingrecruits and money among her people. At any rate, he always spokeof her with the greatest respect, and declared that 'GeneralTubman, ' as he styled her, was a better officer than most whom hehad seen, and could command an army as successfully as she had ledher small parties of fugitives. 

"Her own veneration for Captain Brown has always been profound, and since his murder, has taken the form of a religion. She hadoften risked her own life for her people, and she thought nothingof that; but that a white man, and a man so noble and strong, should so take upon himself the burden of a despised race, shecould not understand, and she took refuge from her perplexity inthe mysteries of her fervid religion. 

"Again, she laid great stress on a dream which she had just beforeshe met Captain Brown in Canada. She thought she was in 'awilderness sort of place, all full of rocks, and bushes, ' when shesaw a serpent raise its head among the rocks, and as it did so, itbecame the head of an old man with a long white beard, gazing ather, 'wishful like, jes as ef he war gwine to speak to me, ' andthen two other heads rose up beside him, younger than he, --and asshe stood looking at them, and wondering what they could want withher, a great crowd of men rushed in and struck down the youngerheads, and then the head of the old man, still looking at her so'wishful. ' This dream she had again and again, and could notinterpret it; but when she met Captain Brown, shortly after, behold, he was the very image of the head she had seen. But stillshe could not make out what her dream signified, till the newscame to her of the tragedy of Harper's Ferry, and then she knewthe two other heads were his two sons. She was in New York at thattime, and on the day of the affair at Harper's Ferry she felt herusual warning that something was wrong--she could not tell what. Finally she told her hostess that it must be Captain Brown who wasin trouble, and that they should soon hear bad news from him. Thenext day's newspaper brought tidings of what had happened. 

"Her last visit to Maryland was made after this, in December, 1860; and in spite of the agitated condition of the country, andthe greater watchfulness of the slave-holders, she brought awayseven fugitives, one of them an infant, which must be drugged withopium to keep it from crying on the way, and so revealing thehiding-place of the party. "

In the spring of 1860, Harriet Tubman was requested by Mr. GerritSmith to go to Boston to attend a large Anti-Slavery meeting. Onher way, she stopped at Troy to visit a cousin, and while therethe colored people were one day startled with the intelligencethat a fugitive slave, by the name of Charles Nalle, had beenfollowed by his master (who was his younger brother, and not onegrain whiter than he), and that he was already in the hands of theofficers, and was to be taken back to the South. The instantHarriet heard the news, she started for the office of the UnitedStates Commissioner, scattering the tidings as she went. Anexcited crowd was gathered about the office, through which Harrietforced her way, and rushed up stairs to the door of the room wherethe fugitive was detained. A wagon was already waiting before thedoor to carry off the man, but the crowd was even then so great, and in such a state of excitement, that the officers did not dareto bring the man down. On the opposite side of the street stoodthe colored people, watching the window where they could seeHarriet's sun-bonnet, and feeling assured that so long as shestood there, the fugitive was still in the office. Time passed on, and he did not appear. "They've taken him out another way, dependupon that, " said some of the colored people. "No, " replied others, "there stands 'Moses' yet, and as long as she is there, he issafe. " Harriet, now seeing the necessity for a tremendous effortfor his rescue, sent out some little boys to cry _fire_. The bellsrang, the crowd increased, till the whole street was a dense massof people. Again and again the officers came out to try and clearthe stairs, and make a way to take their captive down; others weredriven down, but Harriet stood her ground, her head bent and herarms folded. "Come, old woman, you must get out of this, " said oneof the officers; "I must have the way cleared; if you can't getdown alone, some one will help you. " Harriet, still putting on agreater appearance of decrepitude, twitched away from him, andkept her place. Offers were made to buy Charles from his master, who at first agreed to take twelve hundred dollars for him; butwhen this was subscribed, he immediately raised the price tofifteen hundred. The crowd grew more excited. A gentleman raised awindow and called out, "Two hundred dollars for his rescue, butnot one cent to his master!" This was responded to by a roar ofsatisfaction from the crowd below. At length the officersappeared, and announced to the crowd, that if they would open alane to the wagon, they would promise to bring the man down thefront way. 

The lane was opened, and the man was brought out--a tall, handsome, intelligent _white_ man, with his wrists manacledtogether, walking between the U. S. Marshal and another officer, and behind him his brother and his master, so like him that onecould hardly be told from the other. The moment they appeared, Harriet roused from her stooping posture, threw up a window, andcried to her friends: "Here he comes--take him!" and then darteddown the stairs like a wild-cat. She seized one officer and pulledhim down, then another, and tore him away from the man; andkeeping her arms about the slave, she cried to her friends: "Dragus out! Drag him to the river! Drown him! but don't let them havehim!" They were knocked down together, and while down, she toreoff her sun-bonnet and tied it on the head of the fugitive. Whenhe rose, only his head could be seen, and amid the surging mass ofpeople the slave was no longer recognized, while the masterappeared like the slave. Again and again they were knocked down, the poor slave utterly helpless, with his manacled wrists, streaming with blood. Harriet's outer clothes were torn from her, and even her stout shoes were pulled from her feet, yet she neverrelinquished her hold of the man, till she had dragged him to theriver, where he was tumbled into a boat, Harriet following in aferry-boat to the other side. But the telegraph was ahead of them, and as soon as they landed he was seized and hurried from hersight. After a time, some school children came hurrying along, andto her anxious inquiries they answered, "He is up in that house, in the third story. " Harriet rushed up to the place. Some men wereattempting to make their way up the stairs. The officers werefiring down, and two men were lying on the stairs, who had beenshot. Over their bodies our heroine rushed, and with the help ofothers burst open the door of the room, and dragged out thefugitive, whom Harriet carried down stairs in her arms. Agentleman who was riding by with a fine horse, stopped to ask whatthe disturbance meant; and on hearing the story, his sympathiesseemed to be thoroughly aroused; he sprang from his wagon, callingout, "That is a blood-horse, drive him till he drops. " The poorman was hurried in; some of his friends jumped in after him, anddrove at the most rapid rate to Schenectady. 

This is the story Harriet told to the writer. By some persons itseemed too wonderful for belief, and an attempt was made tocorroborate it. Rev. Henry Fowler, who was at the time atSaratoga, kindly volunteered to go to Troy and ascertain thefacts. His report was, that he had had a long interview with Mr. Townsend, who acted during the trial as counsel for the slave, that he had given him a "rich narration, " which he would write outthe next week for this little book. But before he was to begin hisgenerous labor, and while engaged in some kind efforts for theprisoners at Auburn, he was stricken down by the heat of the sun, and was for a long time debarred from labor. 

This good man died not long after and the promised narration wasnever written, but a statement by Mr. Townsend was sent me, whichI copy here:

_Statements made by Martin I. Townsend, Esq. , of Troy, who wascounsel for the fugitive, Charles Nalle. _

Nalle is an octoroon; his wife has the same infusion of Caucasianblood. She was the daughter of her master, and had, with hersister, been bred by him in his family, as his own child. When thefather died, both of these daughters were married and had largefamilies of children. Under the highly Christian national laws of"Old Virginny, " these children were the slaves of theirgrandfather. The old man died, leaving a will, whereby hemanumitted his daughters and their children, and provided for thepurchase of the freedom of their husbands. The manumission of thechildren and grandchildren took effect; but the estate wasinsufficient to purchase the husbands of his daughters, and thefathers of his grandchildren. The manumitted, by anotherChristian, "conservative, " and "national" provision of law, wereforced to leave the State, while the slave husbands remained inslavery. Nalle, and his brother-in-law, were allowed for a whileto visit their families outside Virginia about once a year, butwere at length ordered to provide themselves with new wives, asthey would be allowed to visit their former ones no more. It wasafter this that Nalle and his brother-in-law started for the landof freedom, guided by the steady light of the north star. ThankGod, neither family now need fear any earthly master or the bay ofthe blood-hound dogging their fugitive steps. 

Nalle returned to Troy with his family about July, 1860, andresided with them there for more than seven years. They are allnow residents of the city of Washington, D. C. Nalle and his familyare persons of refined manners, and of the highest respectability. Several of his children are red-haired, and a stranger woulddiscover no trace of African blood in their complexions orfeatures. It was the head of this family whom H. F. Averillproposed to doom to returnless exile and life-long slavery. 

When Nalle was brought from Commissioner Beach's office into thestreet, Harriet Tubman, who had been standing with the excitedcrowd, rushed amongst the foremost to Nalle, and running one ofher arms around his manacled arm, held on to him without everloosening her hold through the more than half-hour's struggle toJudge Gould's office, and from Judge Gould's office to the dock, where Nalle's liberation was accomplished. In the _mêelée_ she wasrepeatedly beaten over the head with policemen's clubs, but shenever for a moment released her hold, but cheered Nalle and hisfriends with her voice, and struggled with the officers until theywere literally worn out with their exertions, and Nalle wasseparated from them. 

True, she had strong and earnest helpers in her struggle, some ofwhom had white faces as well as human hearts, and are now inHeaven. But she exposed herself to the fury of the sympathizerswith slavery, without fear, and suffered their blows withoutflinching. Harriet crossed the river with the crowd, in the ferry-boat, and when the men who led the assault upon the door of JudgeStewart's office were stricken down, Harriet and a number of othercolored women rushed over their bodies, brought Nalle out, andputting him in the first wagon passing, started him for the West. 

A lively team, driven by a colored man, was immediately sent on torelieve the other, and Nalle was seen about Troy no more until hereturned a free man by purchase from his master. Harriet alsodisappeared, and the crowd dispersed. How she came to be in Troythat day, is entirely unknown to our citizens; and where she hidherself after the rescue, is equally a mystery. But her strugglewas in the sight of a thousand, perhaps of five thousandspectators. 

On asking Harriet particularly, as to the age of her mother, sheanswered, "Well, I'll tell you, Missus. Twenty-three years ago, inMaryland, I paid a lawyer five dollars to look up the will of mymother's first master. He looked back sixty years, and said it wastime to give up. I told him to go back furder. He went back sixty-fiveyears, and there he found the will--giving the girl Ritty tohis grand-daughter (Mary Patterson), to serve her and heroffspring till she was forty-five years of age. " This grand-daughterdied soon after, unmarried; and as there was no provisionfor Ritty, in case of her death, she was actually emancipated atthat time. But no one informed her of the fact, and she and herdear children remained in bondage till emancipated by the courageand determination of this heroic daughter and sister. The oldwoman must then, it seems, be ninety-eight years of age, [F] andthe old man has probably numbered as many years. And yet these oldpeople, living out beyond the toll-gate, on the South Street road, Auburn, come in every Sunday--more than a mile--to the CentralChurch. To be sure, deep slumbers settle down upon them as soon asthey are seated, which continue undisturbed till the congregationis dismissed; but they have done their best, and who can doubtthat they receive a blessing. Immediately after this they go toclass-meeting at the Methodist Church. Then they wait for a thirdservice, and after that start out home again. 

[Footnote F: This was written in the year '68, and the old peopleboth lived several years after that time. ]

Harriet supposes that the whole family were actually free, andwere kept wrongfully in a state of slavery all those long years;but she simply states the fact, without any mourning or lamentingover the wrong and the misery of it all, accepting it as the willof God, and, therefore, not to be rebelled against. 

This woman, of whom you have been reading, is now old and feeble, suffering from the effects of her life of unusual labor andhardship, as well as from repeated injuries; but she is still atwork for her people. For many years, even long before the war, herlittle home has been the refuge of the hunted and the homeless, for whom she had provided; and I have seen as many as eight or tendependents upon her care at one time living there. 

It has always been a hospital, but she feels the need of a largeone, and only prays to see this, "her last work, " completed ereshe goes hence. 

Without claiming any of my dear old Harriet's prophetic vision, Iseem to see a future day when the wrongs of earth will be righted, and justice, long delayed, will assert itself. I seem to see thatour poor Harriet has passed within "one of dem gates, " and hasreceived the welcome, "Come, thou blessed of my Father; for I washungry and you gave me meat, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you took me in, naked and you clothed me, sick and in prison and you visited me. "

And when she asks, "Lord, when did I do all this?" He answers:

"Inasmuch as you did it unto one of the least of these, _mybrethren_, you did it unto me. "

And as she stands in her modest way just within the celestialgate, I seem to see a kind hand laid upon her dark head, and tohear a gentle voice saying in her ear, "Friend, come up higher!"

SOME ADDITIONAL INCIDENTS IN THE LIFE OF "HARRIET. "

The story of this remarkable black woman has been attractingrenewed interest of late, and I have often been asked to publishanother edition of the book, and to add some interesting andamusing incidents which I have related to my friends. 

Harriet is very old and feeble now; she does not know how old, butprobably between eighty and ninety. Her years of toil andadventure have told upon her, and she may not last much longer. Ifshe does, she will still need help which she would never ask forherself, but which this little book may give her; when she dies, it may aid in putting up a fitting monument to her memory, whichshould always be "kept green. "

As time goes on, the horrors of the days of slavery are by manyforgotten, and the children who have been born since the War ofthe Rebellion know of that fearful straggle, and of the causesthat led to it, only as a tradition of long ago. 

Even in the city where Harriet has so long lived her quiet andunobtrusive life, it is not an uncommon thing to meet a youngperson who has never even heard her name. 

Those who know the principal facts of her eventful history may beinterested to read these few added incidents, which she hasrelated to me from time to time. 

A year or two ago, as I was staying at the summer home of mybrother, Professor Hopkins, on Owasco Lake, Harriet came up to seeus; it was after lunch, and my brother ordered a table to be setfor her on the broad shaded piazza and waited on her himself, bringing her cups of tea and other good things, as if it were apleasure and an honor to serve her. 

There is a quiet dignity about Harriet that makes her superior orindifferent to all surrounding circumstances; whether seated atthe hospitable board of Gerrit Smith or any other white gentleman, as she often was, or sent to the kitchen, where the whitedomestics refused to eat with a "nigger, " it was all the same toHarriet; she was never elated, or humiliated; she took everythingas it came, making no comments or complaints. 

And so she sat quietly eating her lunch, and talking with us. After the lunch was over, as we sat on the piazza waiting for thesteamboat to take her back to Auburn, she said:

"I often think, Missus, of things I wish I had told you before youwrote de book. Now, as I come up on de boat I thought of one thingthet happened to me when I was very little. 

"I was only seven years old when I was sent away to take car' of ababy. I was so little dat I had to sit down on de flo' and hev debaby put in my lap. An' dat baby was allus in my lap 'cept when itwas asleep, or its mother was feedin' it. 

"One mornin' after breakfast she had de baby, an' I stood by detable waitin' till I was to take it; just by me was a bowl oflumps of white sugar. My Missus got into a great quarrel wid herhusband; she had an awful temper, an' she would scole an' storm, an' call him all sorts of names. Now you know, Missus, I never hadnothing good; no sweet, no sugar, an' dat sugar, right by me, didlook so nice, an' my Missus's back was turned to me while she wasfightin' wid her husband, so I jes' put my fingers in de sugarbowl to take one lump, an' maybe she heard me, an' she turned an'saw me. De nex' minute she had de raw hide down; I give one jumpout of de do', an' I saw dey came after me, but I jes' flew, anddey didn't catch me. I ran, an' I ran, an' I run, I passed many ahouse, but I didn't dar' to stop, for dey all knew my Missus an'dey would send me back. By an' by, when I was clar tuckered out, Icome to a great big pig-pen. Dar was an ole sow dar, an' perhapseight or ten little pigs. I was too little to climb into it, but Itumbled ober de high board, an' fell in on de ground; I was sobeat out I couldn't stir. 

"An' dere, Missus, I stayed from Friday till de nex' Chuesday, fightin' wid dose little pigs for de potato peelin's an" oderscraps dat came down in de trough. De ole sow would push me awaywhen I tried to git her chillen's food, an' I was awful afeard ofher. By Chuesday I was so starved I knowed I'd got to go back tomy Missus, I hadn't got no whar else to go, but I knowed what wascomin. ' So I went back. "

"And she gave you an awful flogging, I suppose, Harriet?"

"No, Missus, but _he_ did. "

This was all that was said, but probably that flogging left someof those scars which cover her neck and back to this day. 

Think of a poor little helpless thing seven years old enduring allthis terror and suffering, and yet few people are as charitable tothe slave-holders as Harriet. "Dey don' know no better, Missus;it's de way dey was brought up. 'Make de little nigs min' you, orflog 'em, ' was what was said to de chillen, and dey was brought upwid de whip in der hand. Now, min' you, Missus, dat wasn't de wayon all de plantations; dere was good Marsters an' Missuses, asI've heard tell, but I didn't happen to come across 'em. "

There is frequent mention made in the Memoir of Harriet's firm andunwavering trust in God in times of great perplexity or deadlyperil, when she often had occasion to say, "Vain is the help ofman, but in God is my help. " I have never known another instanceof such implicit trust and confidence. 

Very soon after the Civil War her house was turned into ahospital, and no poor helpless creature of her race was everturned from her door. Indeed, all through the war, and through thecruel reign of the fugitive slave law, her house was one of thedepots of the "Underground Railway, " as that secret and unseenmode of conveying the hunted fugitives was called, and when thewar was over she established a hospital, which for many years, indeed till she was too ill herself to take charge of it, has beenthe refuge of the sufferers of her race who had no earthlydependence but Harriet. 

Very often this woman, except for her trust in "de Lawd, " had hadno idea where the next meal was to come from, but she troubledherself no more about it than if she had been a Vanderbilt or anAstor. "De Lawd will provide" was her motto, and He never failedher. 

One day, in passing through Auburn, I was impelled to stop over atrain, and drive out to see what were the needs of my coloredfriend, and to take her some supplies. 

Her little house was always neat and comfortable, and the smallparlor was nicely and rather prettily furnished. The lame, thehalt, and the blind, the bruised and crippled little children, andone crazy woman, were all brought in to see me, and "the blindwoman" (she seemed to have no other name), a very old woman whohad been Harriet's care for eighteen years, was led into the room--aninteresting and pathetic group. 

On leaving, I said to her: "If you will come out to the carriage, Harriet, there are some provisions there for you. "

She turned to one of her poor dependents and said: "What did yousay to me dis mornin'? You said, 'We hadn't got nothin' to eat inde house, ' and what did I say to you? I said, 'I've got a richFather!'"

Nothing that comes to this remarkable woman ever surprises her. She says very little in the way of thanks, except to the Giver ofall good. How the knowledge comes to her no one can tell, but sheseems always to know when help is coming, and she is generally onhand to receive it, though it is never for herself she wants it, but only for those under her care. 

I must not forget to mention the Indian girls of the Fort WrangelSchool, who, having read a little notice of Harriet in the"Evangelist, " went to work, and by their daily labor raisedthirty-seven dollars which they sent to me for Harriet--and thisschool has been disbanded, and these educated girls have been sentback to their wretched homes, because our Government could notafford to support it any longer!

Pundita Ramabai went about this time to see Harriet and they hadan interesting talk together. Here was a remarkable trio takinghold of hands--the woman from East India, the Indian girl from thefar West, and the black woman from the Southern States only tworemoves from an African savage!

Once when she came to New York, where she had not been in twentyyears, and was starting off alone to find some friends miles awayin a part of the city which she had never seen, we remonstratedwith her, telling her she would surely be lost. 

"Now, Missus, " she said, "don't you t'ink dis ole head dat done denavigatin' down in Egypt can do de navigatin' up here in NewYork?"

And she walked many miles, scorning a "cyar, " and found all thepeople she wished to see. 

Harriet was known by various names among her Southern friends. Oneof these was "Ole Chariot, " perhaps as a rhyme to the name bywhich they called her. 

And so, often when she went to bring away a band of refugees, shewould sing as she walked the dark country roads by night:

 "When dat ar' ole chariot comes, Who's gwine wid me?"

And from some unseen singer would come the response:

 "When dat ar' ole chariot comes, I'se gwine wid you. "

And by some wireless telegraphy known only to the initiated itwould be made known in one cabin or another where their delivererwas waiting concealed, and when she would be ready to pilot themon their long journey to freedom. 

A Woman's Suffrage Meeting was held in Rochester a year or twoago, and Harriet came to attend it. She generally attended everymeeting of women, on whatever subject, if possible to do so. 

She was led into the church by an adopted daughter, whom she hadrescued from death when a baby, and had brought up as her own. 

The church was warm and Harriet was tired, and soon after sheentered deep sleep fell upon her. 

Susan B. Anthony and Mrs. Stanton were on the platform, and afterspeeches had been made and business accomplished, one of theseladies said:

"Friends, we have in the audience that wonderful woman, HarrietTubman, from whom we should like to hear, if she will kindly cometo the platform. "

People looked around at Harriet, but Harriet was fast asleep. 

"Mother! mother!" said the young girl; "they are calling for you, "but it was some time before Harriet could be made to understandwhere she was, or what was wanted of her. At length, she was ledout into the aisle and was assisted by one of these kind ladies onto the platform. 

Harriet looked around, wondering why so many white ladies weregathered there. I think it was Miss Anthony who led her forward, saying:

"Ladies, I am glad to present to you Harriet Tubman, 'theconductor of the Underground Railroad. '"

"Yes, ladies, " said Harriet, "I was de conductor ob de UndergroundRailroad for eight years, an' I can say what mos' conductors can'tsay--I nebber run my train off de track an' I nebber los' apassenger. " The audience laughed and applauded, and Harriet wasemboldened to go on and relate portions of her interestinghistory, which were most kindly received by the assembled ladies. 

After the passage of the iniquitous fugitive slave law, Harrietremoved all her dependents to Canada, and here John Brown and someof his followers took refuge with her, and she was his helper andadviser in many of his schemes. The papers of that time tell ofher helping him with his plans and of his dependence upon herjudgment. In one of his letters he says: "Harriet has hitched on, and with all her might; she is a whole team. "

For this large party added to her own family of several persons, she worked day and night in her usual self-forgetting manner. Herold father and mother were with her, and the mother, nearly ahundred years old and enfeebled in mind, was querulous andexacting, and most unreasonable in her temper, often reproachingthis faithful daughter as the Israelites did Moses of old, for"bringing them up into the wilderness to die there of hunger. "

There came a day when everything eatable was exhausted, and theprospect was dark, indeed. The old mother had no tobacco and notea--and these were more essential to her comfort than food orclothing; then reproaches thick and fast fell upon Harriet. Shemade no reply, but "went into her closet and shut the door"; whenshe came out she had a large basket on her arm. 

"Catharine, " she said, "take off dat small pot an' put on a largeone. "

"But, Harriet, der ain't not'ing in de house to eat. "

"Put on de large pot, Catharine; we're gwine to have soup to-day"--andHarriet started for the market. The day was nearly over, andthe market-men were anxious to be rid of their wares, and wereoffering them very cheap. Harriet walked along with the basket onher arm. "Old woman, don't you want a nice piece of meat?" calledout one; and another, "Here's a nice piece; only ten cents. Takethis soup-bone, you can have it for five cents. " But Harriet hadnot five cents. At length a kind-hearted butcher, judging of thetrouble from her face, said: "Look here, old woman, you look likean honest woman; take this soup-bone, and pay me when you get somemoney"; then another said, "Take this, " and others piled on piecesof meat till the basket was full. Harriet passed on, and when shecame to the vegetables she exchanged some of the meat forpotatoes, cabbage, and onions, and the big pot was in requisitionwhen she reached home. Harriet had not "gone into her closet andshut the door" for nothing. 

I hope I may be excused for sometimes telling my story in thefirst person, as I cannot conveniently do it in any other way. Ingetting ready a Thanksgiving box to send to Harriet, a few yearsago, I had ordered a turkey to be sent for it, but as the weathergrew quite warm, I was advised to send a ham instead. That box waslost for three weeks, and when I saw Harriet again and told herthat I had intended to send a turkey in it, she said, "Wal, derewas a clar Providence in dat, wa'n't dere, Missus?"

A friend, hearing that I was preparing a Christmas box in New Yorkfor this needy household, sent me a quantity of clothing and tendollars for them. As my box was not quite full, I expended threedollars of that money in groceries, and sent seven dollars to alady in Auburn who acted as treasurer for Harriet, giving hermoney as it was needed; for Harriet's heart is so large, and herfeelings are so easily wrought upon, that it was never wise togive her more than enough for present needs. 

Not long after, I received a letter from a well-known physician--awoman--in Auburn, in which she said:

"I want to tell you something about Harriet. She came to me lastFriday, and said, 'Doctah, I have got my taxes and insurance topay to-morrow, and I haven't a cent. Would you lend me sevendollars till next Chuesday?' More to try her than anything else, Isaid, 'Why, Harriet, I'm a poor, hard-working woman myself; how doyou know you'll pay me seven dollars next Tuesday?' 'Well, Doctah, I can't jes' tell you how, but I'll pay you next Chuesday. '" OnTuesday my letter with seven dollars enclosed arrived in Auburn, and Harriet took the money to the friend who had lent it to her. Others thought this strange, but there was nothing strange aboutit to her. 

A few years ago, when Harriet called on the writer, she wasintroduced to the husband of one of her daughters lately married. He told her how glad he was to see her, as he had heard so muchabout her. She made one of her humble courtesies, and said: "I'mpleased to see you, sir; it's de first time I've hed de pleasuremakin' yo' 'quaintance since you was 'dopted into my fam'bly. "

When the turns of somnolence come upon Harriet, her "sperrit, " asshe says, goes away from her body, and visits other scenes andplaces, and if she ever really sees them afterwards they areperfectly familiar to her and she can find her way about alone. Instances of this kind have lately been mentioned in some of themagazines, but Harriet had never heard of them. 

Sitting in her house one day, deep sleep fell upon her, and in adream or vision she saw a chariot in the air, going south, andempty, but soon it returned, and lying in it, cold and stiff, wasthe body of a young lady of whom Harriet was very fond, whose homewas in Auburn, but who had gone to Washington with her father, adistinguished officer of the Government there. [G]

[Footnote G: William H. Seward. ]

The shock roused Harriet from her sleep, and she ran into Auburn, to the house of her minister, crying out: "Oh, Miss Fanny isdead!" and the news had just been received. 

She woke from a sleep one day in great agitation, and ran to thehouses of her colored neighbors, exclaiming that "a drefful t'ingwas happenin' somewha', de ground was openin', an' de houses werefallin' in, and de people bein' killed faster 'n dey was in dewah--faster 'n dey was in de wah. "

At that very time, or near it, an earthquake was occurring in thenorthern part of South America, for the telegram came that day, though why a vision of it should be sent to Harriet no one candivine. 

Her expressions are often very peculiar; some ladies of a certainchurch who had become interested in her wished to see her, and shewas invited to come to their city, and attended the sewing circle, where twenty or thirty of them were gathered together. They askedher many questions, and she told stories, sang songs, danced, andimitated the talk of the Southern negroes; and went away loadedwith many tokens of the kind interest of these ladies. On the wayhome she said:

"What nice, kind-lookin' ladies dem was, Missus. I looked in alldere faces, an' I didn't see nothin' venomous in one of 'em!"

As has been said, Harriet can neither read nor write; her lettersare all written by an amanuensis, and she seems to have an ideathat by laying her hand on this person, her feelings may betransmitted to the one to whom she is writing. These feelings aresometimes very poetically expressed. I have by me some of thoseletters; in one of them she says: "I lay my hand on the shoulderof the writer of this letter, and I wish for you, and all youroffsprings, a through ticket in the Gospel train to Glory. "

In another letter she has dictated this sentence:

"I ask of my Heavenly Father, that when the last trump sounds, andmy name is called, I may stand close by your side, to answer tothe call. " Probably many of her friends and correspondents mightcontribute facts and incidents in Harriet's life quite asinteresting as any I have mentioned, but I have no way of gettingat them. 

Harriet had long cherished the idea of having her hospitalincorporated, and placed in charge of the Zion African MethodistChurch of Auburn, and she was particularly anxious to come intopossession of a lot of twenty-five acres of land, near her ownhome, to present to it as a little farm. This lot was to be soldat auction, and on the day of the sale Harriet appeared with avery little money, and a determination to have the land, cost whatit might. 

"Dey was all white folks but me dere, Missus, and dere I was likea blackberry in a pail ob milk, but I hid down in a corner, and noone know'd who was biddin'. De man began down pretty low, and Ikept goin' up by fifties; he got up to twelve hundred, thirteenhundred, fourteen hundred, and still dat voice in the corner keptgoin' up by fifties. At last it got up to fourteen hundred andfifty, an' den oders stopped biddin', an' de man said, 'All done!who is de buyer?' 'Harriet Tubman, ' I shouted. 'What! dat olenigger?' dey said. 'Old woman, how you ebber gwine to pay fer datlot ob land?' 'I'm gwine home to tell de Lawd Jesus all about it, 'I said. "

After telling the Lord Jesus all about it, Harriet went down to abank, obtained the money by mortgaging the land, and thenrequested to have a deed made out, making the land over to theZion African Methodist Church. And her mind is easy about herhospital, though with many persons the trouble would be but justbeginning, as there is interest on the mortgage to be paid. 

Though the hospital is no longer on her hands, you will never findher without several poor creatures under her care. When I last sawher she was providing for five sick and injured ones. A blindwoman came one day to her door, led by four little children--herhusband had turned her out of his house, and like all other poordistressed black people, who could get there, she made her way toHarriet. Before the next morning a fifth was added to the group. As soon as it was possible Harriet dressed the whole six in whiteand took them to a Methodist church and had them baptized. 

A little account of this was sent to the "Evangelist, " and thealmost immediate response was seventy-five dollars, which was ofgreat benefit in providing for the needs of the growing family. 

This faithful creature will probably not live much longer, and herlike will not be seen again. But through the sale of the lastedition of her "Memoir, " and some other sources of income, herwants will be abundantly supplied. 

Harriet's friends will be glad to learn that she has lately beenfor some time in Boston, where a surgical operation was performedupon her head, the skull (which was crushed by a weight thrown byher master more than seventy years before) being successfullyraised. Harriet's account of this operation is rather amusing. 

"Harriet, " said Professor Hopkins, "what is the matter with yourhead? Your hair is all gone!"

"Why, dat's where dey shaved it off befo' dey cut my head open. "

"Cut your head open, Harriet? What do you mean?"

"Wal, sir, when I was in Boston I walked out one day, an' I saw agreat big buildin', an' I asked a man what it was, an' he said itwas a hospital. So I went right in, an' I saw a young man dere, an' I said, 'Sir, are you a doctah?' an' he said he was; den Isaid, 'Sir, do you t'ink you could cut my head open?'

"'What do you want your head cut open fer?' he said. 

"Den I tol' him de whole story, an' how my head was givin' me apowerful sight of trouble lately, with achin' an' buzzin', so Icouldn' get no sleep at night. 

"An' he said, 'Lay right down on dis yer table, ' an' I lay down. "

"Didn't he give you anything to deaden the pain, Harriet?"

"No, sir; I jes' lay down like a lamb fo' de slaughter, an' hesawed open my skull, an' raised it up, an' now it feels morecomfortable. " "Did you suffer very much?"

"Yes, sir, it hurt, ob cose; but I got up an' put on my bonnet an'started to walk home, but my legs kin' o' gin out under me, an'dey sont fer a ambulance an' sont me home. "

It has been hoped that this remarkable experience might result ingiving Harriet a new lease of life, but I am sorry to say she isvery feeble, and I fear will not be with us much longer. 

Her "through ticket" has long been ready for her, and when herlast journey is accomplished can we doubt that she will bewelcomed to one of those many mansions prepared for those who havespent their lives in the Master's service?

THE END

APPENDIX. 

The following letters to the writer from those well-known anddistinguished philanthropists, Hon. Gerrit Smith and WendellPhillips, and one from Frederick Douglass, addressed to Harriet, will serve as the best introduction that can be given of thesubject of this memoir to its readers:

_Letter from Hon. Gerrit Smith_. 

 PETERBORO, _June_ 13, 1868. 

MY DEAR MADAME: I am happy to learn that you are to speak to thepublic of Mrs. Harriet Tubman. Of the remarkable events of herlife I have no _personal_ knowledge, but of the truth of them asshe describes them I have no doubt. 

I have often listened to her, in her visits to my family, and I amconfident that she is not only truthful, but that she has a rarediscernment, and a deep and sublime philanthropy. 

 With great respect your friend, GERRIT SMITH. 

 * * * * *

_Letter from Wendell Phillips_. 

 _June_ 16, 1868. 

DEAR MADAME: The last time I ever saw John Brown was under my ownroof, as he brought Harriet Tubman to me, saying: "Mr. Phillips, Ibring you one of the best and bravest persons on this continent--_General_ Tubman, as we call her. "

He then went on to recount her labors and sacrifices in behalf ofher race. After that, Harriet spent some time in Boston, earningthe confidence and admiration of all those who were working forfreedom. With their aid she went to the South more than once, returning always with a squad of self-emancipated men, women, andchildren, for whom her marvelous skill had opened the way ofescape. After the war broke out, she was sent with indorsementsfrom Governor Andrew and his friends to South Carolina, where inthe service of the Nation she rendered most important andefficient aid to our army. 

In my opinion there are few captains, perhaps few colonels, whohave done more for the loyal cause since the war began, and fewmen who did before that time more for the colored race, than ourfearless and most sagacious friend, Harriet. 

 Faithfully yours, WENDELL PHILLIPS. 

 * * * * *

_Letter from Frederick Douglass_. 

 ROCHESTER, _August_ 29, 1868. 

DEAR HARRIET: I am glad to know that the story of your eventfullife has been written by a kind lady, and that the same is soon tobe published. You ask for what you do not need when you call uponme for a word of commendation. I need such words from you far morethan you can need them from me, especially where your superiorlabors and devotion to the cause of the lately enslaved of ourland are known as I know them. The difference between us is verymarked. Most that I have done and suffered in the service of ourcause has been in public, and I have received much encouragementat every step of the way. You, on the other hand, have labored ina private way. I have wrought in the day--you in the night. I havehad the applause of the crowd and the satisfaction that comes ofbeing approved by the multitude, while the most that you have donehas been witnessed by a few trembling, scarred, and foot-sorebondmen and women, whom you have led out of the house of bondage, and whose heartfelt "_God bless you_" has been your only reward. The midnight sky and the silent stars have been the witnesses ofyour devotion to freedom and of your heroism. Excepting JohnBrown--of sacred memory--I know of no one who has willinglyencountered more perils and hardships to serve our enslaved peoplethan you have. Much that you have done would seem improbable tothose who do not know you as I know you. It is to me a greatpleasure and a great privilege to bear testimony to your characterand your works, and to say to those to whom you may come, that Iregard you in every way truthful and trustworthy. 

 Your friend, FREDERICK DOUGLASS. 

 * * * * *

_Extracts from a Letter written by Mr. Sanborn, Secretary of theMassachusetts Board of State Charities. _

MY DEAR MADAME: Mr. Phillips has sent me your note, asking forreminiscences of Harriet Tubman, and testimonials to herextraordinary story, which all her New England friends will, I amsure, be glad to furnish. 

I never had reason to doubt the truth of what Harriet said inregard to her own career, for I found her singularly truthful. Herimagination is warm and rich, and there is a whole region of themarvelous in her nature, which has manifested itself at timesremarkably. Her dreams and visions, misgivings and forewarnings, ought not to be omitted in any life of her, particularly thoserelating to John Brown. 

She was in his confidence in 1858-9, and he had a great regard forher, which he often expressed to me. She aided him in his plans, and expected to do so still further, when his career was closed bythat wonderful campaign in Virginia. The first time she came to myhouse, in Concord, after that tragedy, she was shown into a roomin the evening, where Brackett's bust of John Brown was standing. The sight of it, which was new to her, threw her into a sort ofecstacy of sorrow and admiration, and she went on in herrhapsodical way to pronounce his apotheosis. 

She has often been in Concord, where she resided at the houses ofEmerson, Alcott, the Whitneys, the Brooks family, Mrs. HoraceMann, and other well-known persons. They all admired and respectedher, and nobody doubted the reality of her adventures. She was too_real_ a person to be suspected. In 1862, I think it was, she wentfrom Boston to Port Royal, under the advice and encouragement ofMr. Garrison, Governor Andrew, Dr. Howe, and other leading people. Her career in South Carolina is well known to some of ourofficers, and I think to Colonel Higginson, now of Newport, R. I. , and Colonel James Montgomery, of Kansas, to both of whom she wasuseful as a spy and guide, if I mistake not. I regard her as, onthe whole, the most extraordinary person of her race I have evermet. She is a negro of pure, or almost pure blood, can neitherread nor write, and has the characteristics of her race andcondition. But she has done what can scarcely be credited on thebest authority, and she has accomplished her purposes with acoolness, foresight, patience and wisdom, which in a _white man_would have raised him to the highest pitch of reputation. 

I am, dear Madame, very truly your servant, F. B. SANBORN. 

 * * * * *

_Letter from Hon. Wm. H. Seward_. 

 WASHINGTON, _July_ 25, 1868. 

MAJ. -GEN. HUNTER--

MY DEAR SIR: Harriet Tubman, a colored woman, has been nursing oursoldiers during nearly all the war. She believes she has a claimfor faithful services to the command in South Carolina with whichyou are connected, and she thinks that you would be disposed tosee her claim justly settled. 

I have known her long, and a nobler, higher spirit, or a truer, seldom dwells in the human form. I commend her, therefore, to yourkind and best attentions. 

 Faithfully your friend, WILLIAM H. SEWARD. 

 * * * * *

_Letter from Col. James Montgomery_. 

 ST. HELENA ISLAND, S. C. , _July_ 6, 1863. HEADQUARTERS COLORED BRIGADE. 

BRIG. -GEN. GILMORE, Commanding Department of the South--

GENERAL: I wish to commend to your attention, Mrs. Harriet Tubman, a most remarkable woman, and invaluable as a scout. I have beenacquainted with her character and actions for several years. 

I am, General, your most ob't servant, JAMES MONTGOMERY, Col. Com. Brigade. 

 * * * * *

_Letter from Mrs. Gen. A. Baird_. 

 PETERBORO, _Nov_. 24, 1864. 

The bearer of this, Harriet Tubman, a most excellent woman, whohas rendered faithful and good services to our Union army, notonly in the hospital, but in various capacities, having beenemployed under Government at Hilton Head, and in Florida; and Icommend her to the protection of all officers in whose departmentshe may happen to be. 

She has been known and esteemed for years by the family of myuncle, Hon. Gerrit Smith, as a person of great rectitude andcapabilities. 

 MRS. GEN. A. BAIRD. 

 * * * * *

_Letter from Hon. Gerrit Smith_. 

 PETERBORO, N. Y. , _Nov_. 4, 1867. 

I have known Mrs. Harriet Tubman for many years. Seldom, if ever, have I met with a person more philanthropic, more self-denying, and of more bravery. Nor must I omit to say that she combines withher sublime spirit, remarkable discernment and judgment. 

During the late war, Mrs. Tubman was eminently faithful and usefulto the cause of our country. She is poor and has poor parents. Such a servant of the country should be well paid by the country. I hope that the Government will look into her case. 

 GERRIT SMITH. 

 * * * * *

_Testimonial from Gerrit Smith_. 

 PETERBORO, _Nov. _ 22, 1864. 

The bearer, Harriet Tubman, needs not any recommendation. Nearlyall the nation over, she has been heard of for her wisdom, integrity, patriotism, and bravery. The cause of freedom owes hermuch. The country owes her much. 

I have known Harriet for many years, and I hold her in my highesteem. 

 GERRIT SMITH. 

 * * * * *

_Certificate from Henry K. Durrant, Acting Asst. Surgeon, U. S. A. _

I certify that I have been acquainted with Harriet Tubman fornearly two years; and my position as Medical Officer in charge of"contrabands" in this town and in hospital, has given me frequentand ample opportunities to observe her general deportment;particularly her kindness and attention to the sick and sufferingof her own race. I take much pleasure in testifying to the esteemin which she is generally held. 

 HENRY K. DURRANT, Acting Assistant Surgeon, U. S. A. In charge "Contraband" Hospital. 

Dated at Beaufort, S. C. , the 3d day of May, 1864. 

I concur fully in the above. 

 R. SAXTON, Brig. -Gen. Vol. 

 * * * * *

The following are a few of the passes used by Harriet throughoutthe war. Many others are so defaced that it is impossible todecipher them. 

HEADQUARTERS DEPARTMENT OF THE SOUTH, HILTON HEAD, PORT ROYAL, S. C. , _Feb_. 19, 1863. 

Pass the bearer, Harriet Tubman, to Beaufort and back to thisplace, and wherever she wishes to go; and give her free passage atall times, on all Government transports. Harriet was sent to mefrom Boston by Governor Andrew, of Massachusetts, and is avaluable woman. She has permission, as a servant of theGovernment, to purchase such provisions from the Commissary as shemay need. 

 D. HUNTER, Maj. -Gen. Com. 

 * * * * *

General Gilmore, who succeeded General Hunter in command of theDepartment of the South, appends his signature to the same pass. 

HEADQUARTERS OF THE DEPARTMENT OF THE SOUTH, _July_ 1, 1863. 

Continued in force. 

 Q. A. GILMORE, Brig. -Gen. Com. 

 * * * * *

 BEAUFORT, _Aug_. 28, 1862. 

Will Capt. Warfield please let "Moses" have a little Bourbonwhiskey for medicinal purposes. 

 HENRY K. DURANT, Act. Ass. Surgeon. 

 * * * * *

WAR DEPARTMENT, WASHINGTON, D. C, _March_ 20, 1865. 

Pass Mrs. Harriet Tubman (colored) to Hilton Head and Charleston, S. C. , with free transportation on a Government transport, By order of the Sec. Of War. Louis H. , Asst. Adj. -Gen. , U. S. A. To Bvt. Brig. -Gen. Van Vliet, U. S. Q. M. , N. Y. Not transferable. 

 * * * * *

WAR DEPARTMENT, WASHINGTON, D. C. , _July_ 22, 1865. 

Permit Harriet Tubman to proceed to Fortress Monroe, Va. , on aGovernment transport. Transportation will be furnished free ofcost. 

By order of the Secretary of War. L. H. , Asst. Adj. -Gen. Not transferable. 

 * * * * *

 _Appointment as Nurse_. 

SIR: I have the honor to inform you that the Medical DirectorDepartment of Virginia has been instructed to appoint HarrietTubman nurse or matron at the Colored Hospital, Fort Monroe, Va. 

 Very respectfully, your obdt. Servant, V. K. BARNES, Surgeon-General. Hon. WM. H. SEWARD, Secretary of State, Washington, D. C. 

Of the many letters, testimonials, and passes, placed in the handsof the writer by Harriet, the following are selected for insertionin this book, and are quite sufficient to verify her statements. 

_A Letter from Gen. Saxton to a lady of Auburn_. 

 ATLANTA, GA. , _March_ 21, 1868. 

MY DEAR MADAME: I have just received your letter informing me thatHon. Wm. H. Seward, Secretary of State, would present a petition toCongress for a pension to Harriet Tubman, for services rendered inthe Union Army during the late war. I can bear witness to thevalue of her services in South Carolina and Florida. She wasemployed in the hospitals and as a spy. She made many a raidinside the enemy's lines, displaying remarkable courage, zeal, andfidelity. She was employed by General Hunter, and I think byGenerals Stevens and Sherman, and is as deserving of a pensionfrom the Government for her services as any other of its faithfulservants. 

 I am very truly yours, RUFUS SAXTON, Bvt. Brig. -Gen. , U. S. A. 

Rev. Samuel I. May, in his recollections of the anti-slaveryconflict, after mentioning the case of an old slave mother, whomhe vainly endeavored to assist her son in buying from her master, says:

"I did not until four years after know that remarkable womanHarriet, or I might have engaged her services, in the assurancethat she would have bought off the old woman without _paying_ forher inalienable right--her liberty. "

Mr. May in another place says of Harriet, that she deserves to beplaced _first_ on the list of American heroines, and then proceedsto give a short account of her labors, varying very little fromthat given in this book. 

FUGITIVE SLAVE RESCUE IN TROY. 

From the _Troy Whig_, April 28, 1859. 

Yesterday afternoon, the streets of this city and West Troy weremade the scenes of unexampled excitement. For the first time sincethe passage of the Fugitive Slave Law, an attempt was made here tocarry its provisions into execution, and the result was a terrificencounter between the officers and the prisoner's friends, thetriumph of mob law, and the final rescue of the fugitive. Our citywas thrown into a grand state of turmoil, and for a time everyother topic was forgotten, to give place to this new excitement. People did not think last evening to ask who was nominated atCharleston, or whether the news of the Heenan and Sayers battlehad arrived--everything was merged into the fugitive slave case, of which it seems the end is not yet. 

Charles Nalle, the fugitive, who was the cause of all thisexcitement, was a slave on the plantation of B. W. Hansborough, inCulpepper County, Virginia, till the 19th of October, 1858, whenhe made his escape, and went to live in Columbia, Pennsylvania. Awife and five children are residing there now. Not long since hecame to Sandlake, in this county, and resided in the family of Mr. Crosby until about three weeks ago. Since that time, he has beenemployed as coachman by Uri Gilbert, Esq. , of this city. He isabout thirty years of age, tall, quite light-complexioned, andgood-looking. He is said to have been an excellent and faithfulservant. 

At Sandlake, we understand that Nalle was often seen by one H. F. Averill, formerly connected with one of the papers of this city, who communicated with his reputed owner in Virginia, and gave theinformation that led to a knowledge of the whereabouts of thefugitive. Averill wrote letters for him, and thus obtained anacquaintance with his history. Mr. Hansborough sent on an agent, Henry J. Wall, by whom the necessary papers were got out to arrestthe fugitive. 

Yesterday morning about 11 o'clock, Charles Nalle was sent toprocure some bread for the family by whom he was employed. Hefailed to return. At the baker's he was arrested by Deputy UnitedStates Marshal J. W. Holmes, and immediately taken before UnitedStates Commissioner Miles Beach. The son of Mr. Gilbert, thinkingit strange that he did not come back, sent to the house of WilliamHenry, on Division Street, where he boarded, and his whereaboutswas discovered. 

The examination before Commissioner Beach was quite brief. Theevidence of Averill and the agent was taken, and the Commissionerdecided to remand Nalle to Virginia. The necessary papers weremade out and given to the Marshal. 

By this time it was two o'clock, and the fact began to be noisedabroad that there was a fugitive slave in Mr. Beach's office, corner of State and First Streets. People in knots of ten ortwelve collected near the entrance, looking at Nalle, who could beseen at an upper window. William Henry, a colored man, with whomNalle boarded, commenced talking from the curb-stone in a loudvoice to the crowd. He uttered such sentences as, "There is afugitive slave in that office--pretty soon you will see him comeforth. He is going to be taken down South, and you will have achance to see him. He is to be taken to the depot, to go toVirginia in the first train. Keep watch of those stairs, and youwill have a sight. " A number of women kept shouting, crying, andby loud appeals excited the colored persons assembled. 

Still the crowd grew in numbers. Wagons halted in front of thelocality, and were soon piled with spectators. An alarm of firewas sounded, and hose carriages dashed through the ranks of men, women, and boys; but they closed again, and kept looking withexpectant eyes at the window where the negro was visible. Meanwhile, angry discussions commenced. Some persons agitated arescue, and others favored law and order. Mr. Brockway, a lawyer, had his coat torn for expressing his sentiments, and other_mêlées_ kept the interest alive. 

All at once there was a wild halloo, and every eye was turned upto see the legs and part of the body of the prisoner protrudingfrom the second story window, at which he was endeavoring toescape. Then arose a shout! "Drop him!" "Catch him!" "Hurrah!" Butthe attempt was a fruitless one, for somebody in the office pulledNalle back again, amid the shouts of a hundred pairs of lungs. Thecrowd at this time numbered nearly a thousand persons. Many ofthem were black, and a good share were of the female sex. Theyblocked up State Street from First Street to the alley, and keptsurging to and fro. 

Martin I. Townsend, Esq. , who acted as counsel for the fugitive, did not arrive in the Commissioner's office until a decision hadbeen rendered. He immediately went before Judge Gould, of theSupreme Court, and procured a writ of habeas corpus in the usualform, _returnable_ immediately. This was given Deputy-SheriffNathaniel Upham, who at once proceeded to Commissioner Beach'soffice, and served it on Holmes. Very injudiciously, the officersproceeded at once to Judge Gould's office, although it was evidentthey would have to pass through an excited, unreasonable crowd. Assoon as the officers and their prisoner emerged from the door, anold negro, who had been standing at the bottom of the stairs, shouted, "Here they come, " and the crowd made a terrific rush atthe party. 

From the office of Commissioner Beach, in the Mutual Building, tothat of Judge Gould, in Congress Street, is less than two blocks, but it was made a regular battlefield. The moment the prisoneremerged from the doorway, in custody of Deputy-Sheriff Upham, Chief of Police Quin, Officers Cleveland and Holmes, the crowdmade one grand charge, and those nearest the prisoner seized himviolently, with the intention of pulling him away from theofficers, but they were foiled; and down First to Congress Street, and up the latter in front of Judge Gould's chambers, went thesurging mass. Exactly what did go on in the crowd, it isimpossible to say, but the pulling, hauling, mauling, andshouting, gave evidences of frantic efforts on the part of therescuers, and a stern resistance from the conservators of the law. In front of Judge Gould's office the combat was at its height. Nostones or other missiles were used; the battle was fist to fist. We believe an order was given to take the prisoner the other way, and there was a grand rush towards the West, past First and RiverStreets, as far as Dock Street. All this time there was acontinual _mêlée_. Many of the officers were hurt--among them Mr. Upham, whose object was solely to do his duty by taking Nallebefore Judge Gould in accordance with the writ of habeas corpus. Anumber in the crowd were more or less hurt, and it is a wonderthat these were not badly injured, as pistols were drawn andchisels used. 

The battle had raged as far as the corner of Dock and CongressStreets, and the victory remained with the rescuers at last. Theofficers were completely worn out with their exertions, and it wasimpossible to continue their hold upon him any longer. Nalle wasat liberty. His friends rushed him down Dock Street to the lowerferry, where there was a skiff lying ready to start. The fugitivewas put in, the ferryman rowed off, and amid the shouts ofhundreds who lined the banks of the river, Nalle was carried intoAlbany County. 

As the skiff landed in West Troy, a negro sympathizer waded up tothe waist, and pulled Nalle out of the boat. He went up the hillalone, however, and there who should he meet but Constable Becker!The latter official seeing a man with manacles on, considered ithis duty to arrest him. He did so, and took him in a wagon to theoffice of Justice Stewart, on the second floor of the cornerbuilding near the ferry. The justice was absent. 

When the crowd on the Troy bank had seen Nalle safely landed, itwas suggested that he might be recaptured. Then there was anotherrush made for the steam ferry-boat, which carried over about 400persons, and left as many more--a few of the latter being sousedin their efforts to get on the boat. On landing in West Troy, there, sure enough, was the prisoner, locked up in a strongoffice, protected by Officers Becker, Brown and Morrison, and thedoor barricaded. 

Not a moment was lost. Up stairs went a score or more of resolutemen--the rest "piling in" promiscuously, shouting and execratingthe officers. Soon a stone flew against the door--then another--and bang, bang! went off a couple of pistols, but the officers whofired them took good care to aim pretty high. The assailants wereforced to retreat for a moment. "They've got pistols, " said one. "Who cares?" was the reply; "they can only kill a dozen of us--come on. " More stones and more pistol-shots ensued. At last thedoor was pulled open by an immense negro, and in a moment he wasfelled by a hatchet in the hands of Deputy-Sheriff Morrison; butthe body of the fallen man blocked up the door so that it couldnot be shut, and a friend of the prisoner pulled him out. Poorfellow! he might well say, "Save me from my friends. " Amid thepulling and hauling, the iron had cut his arms, which werebleeding profusely, and he could hardly walk, owing to fatigue. 

He has since arrived safely in Canada. 

THE END.