NARRATIVE

OF

WILLIAM W. BROWN, A

FUGITIVE SLAVE. 

WRITTEN BY HIMSELF. 

 --Is there not some chosen curse, Some hidden thunder in the stores of heaven, Red with uncommon wrath, to blast the man Who gains his fortune from the blood of souls?

COWPER. 

BOSTON:

PUBLISHED AT THE ANTI-SLAVERY OFFICE, NO. 25 CORNHILL. 

1847. 

[Illustration: William W. Brown. ]

TO WELLS BROWN, OF OHIO. 

Thirteen years ago, I came to your door, a weary fugitive from chainsand stripes. I was a stranger, and you took me in. I was hungry, and youfed me. Naked was I, and you clothed me. Even a name by which to beknown among men, slavery had denied me. You bestowed upon me your own. Base indeed should I be, if I ever forget what I owe to you, or doanything to disgrace that honored name!

As a slight testimony of my gratitude to my earliest benefactor, I takethe liberty to inscribe to you this little Narrative of the sufferingsfrom which I was fleeing when you had compassion upon me. In themultitude that you have succored, it is very possible that you may notremember me; but until I forget God and myself, I can never forget you. 

Your grateful friend, WILLIAM WELLS BROWN. 

LETTER FROM

EDMUND QUINCY, ESQ. 

DEDHAM, JULY 1, 1847. 

TO WILLIAM W. BROWN. 

MY DEAR FRIEND:--I heartily thank you for the privilege of reading themanuscript of your Narrative. I have read it with deep interest andstrong emotion. I am much mistaken if it be not greatly successful andeminently useful. It presents a different phase of the infernalslave-system from that portrayed in the admirable story of Mr. Douglass, and gives us a glimpse of its hideous cruelties in other portions of itsdomain. 

Your opportunities of observing the workings of this accursed systemhave been singularly great. Your experiences in the Field, in the House, and especially on the River in the service of the slave-trader, Walker, have been such as few individuals have had;--no one, certainly, who hasbeen competent to describe them. What I have admired, and marvelled at, in your Narrative, is the simplicity and calmness with which youdescribe scenes and actions which might well "move the very stones torise and mutiny" against the National Institution which makes thempossible. 

You will perceive that I have made very sparing use of your flatteringpermission to alter what you had written. To correct a few errors, whichappeared to be merely clerical ones, committed in the hurry ofcomposition, under unfavorable circumstances, and to suggest a fewcurtailments, is all that I have ventured to do. I should be a bold man, as well as a vain one, if I should attempt to improve your descriptionsof what you have seen and suffered. Some of the scenes are not unworthyof De Foe himself. 

I trust and believe that your Narrative will have a wide circulation. Iam sure it deserves it. At least, a man must be differently constitutedfrom me, who can rise from the perusal of your Narrative without feelingthat he understands slavery better, and hates it worse, than he ever didbefore. 

I am, very faithfully and respectfully, Your friend, EDMUND QUINCY. 

PREFACE. 

The friends of freedom may well congratulate each other on theappearance of the following Narrative. It adds another volume to therapidly increasing anti-slavery literature of the age. It has beenremarked by a close observer of human nature, "Let me make the songs ofa nation, and I care not who makes its laws;" and it may with equaltruth be said, that, among a reading people like our own, their bookswill at least give character to their laws. It is an influence whichgoes forth noiselessly upon its mission, but fails not to find its wayto many a warm heart, to kindle on the altar thereof the fires offreedom, which will one day break forth in a living flame to consumeoppression. 

This little book is a voice from the prison-house, unfolding the deedsof darkness which are there perpetrated. Our cause has receivedefficient aid from this source. The names of those who have come fromthence, and battled manfully for the right, need not to be recordedhere. The works of some of them are an enduring monument of praise, andtheir perpetual record shall be found in the grateful hearts of theredeemed bondman. 

Few persons have had greater facilities for becoming acquainted withslavery, in all its horrible aspects, than William W. Brown. Hehas been behind the curtain. He has visited its secret chambers. Itsiron has entered his own soul. The dearest ties of nature have beenriven in his own person. A mother has been cruelly scourged before hisown eyes. A father, --alas! slaves have no father. A brother has beenmade the subject of its tender mercies. A sister has been given up tothe irresponsible control of the pale-faced oppressor. This nation lookson approvingly. The American Union sanctions the deed. The Constitutionshields the criminals. American religion sanctifies the crime. But thetide is turning. Already, a mighty under-current is sweeping onward. Thevoice of warning, of remonstrance, of rebuke, of entreaty, has goneforth. Hand is linked in hand, and heart mingles with heart, in thisgreat work of the slave's deliverance. 

The convulsive throes of the monster, even now, give evidence of deepwounds. 

The writer of this Narrative was hired by his master to a"_soul-driver_, " and has witnessed all the horrors of the traffic, fromthe buying up of human cattle in the slave-breeding States, whichproduced a constant scene of separating the victims from all those whomthey loved, to their final sale in the southern market, to be worked upin seven years, or given over to minister to the lust of southern_Christians_. 

Many harrowing scenes are graphically portrayed; and yet with thatsimplicity and ingenuousness which carries with it a conviction of thetruthfulness of the picture. 

This book will do much to unmask those who have "clothed themselves inthe livery of the court of heaven" to cover up the enormity of theirdeeds. 

During the past three years, the author has devoted his entire energiesto the anti-slavery cause. Laboring under all the disabilities anddisadvantages growing out of his education in slavery--subjected, as hehad been from his birth, to all the wrongs and deprivations incident tohis condition--he yet went forth, impelled to the work by a love ofliberty--stimulated by the remembrance of his own sufferings--urged onby the consideration that a mother, brothers, and sister, were stillgrinding in the prison-house of bondage, in common with three millionsof our Father's children--sustained by an unfaltering faith in theomnipotence of truth and the final triumph of justice--to plead thecause of the slave, and by the eloquence of earnestness carriedconviction to many minds, and enlisted the sympathy and secured theco-operation of many to the cause. 

His labors have been chiefly confined to Western New York, where he hassecured many warm friends, by his untiring zeal, persevering energy, continued fidelity, and universal kindness. 

Reader, are you an Abolitionist? What have you done for the slave? Whatare you doing in his behalf? What do you purpose to do? There is a greatwork before us! Who will be an idler now? This is the great humanitarymovement of the age, swallowing up, for the time being, all otherquestions, comparatively speaking. The course of human events, inobedience to the unchangeable laws of our being, is fast hastening thefinal crisis, and

 "Have ye chosen, O my people, on whose party ye shall stand, Ere the Doom from its worn sandal shakes the dust against our land?"

Are you a Christian? This is the carrying out of practical Christianity;and there is no other. Christianity is _practical_ in its very natureand essence. It is a life, springing out of a soul imbued with itsspirit. Are you a friend of the missionary cause? This is the greatestmissionary enterprize of the day. Three millions of _Christian_, law-manufactured heathen are longing for the glad tidings of the Gospelof freedom. Are you a friend of the Bible? Come, then, and help us torestore to these millions, whose eyes have been bored out by slavery, their sight, that they may see to read the Bible. Do you love God whomyou have not seen? Then manifest that love, by restoring to your brotherwhom you have seen, his rightful inheritance, of which he has been solong and so cruelly deprived. 

It is not for a single generation alone, numbering threemillions--sublime as would be that effort--that we are working. It isfor humanity, the wide world over, not only now, but for allcoming time, and all future generations:--

 "For he who settles Freedom's principles, Writes the death-warrant of all tyranny. "

It is a vast work--a glorious enterprize--worthy the unswerving devotionof the entire life-time of the great and the good. 

Slaveholding and slaveholders must be rendered disreputable and odious. They must be stripped of their respectability and Christian reputation. They must be treated as "men-stealers--guilty of the highestkind of theft, and sinners of the first rank. " Their more guiltyaccomplices in the persons of _northern apologists_, both in Church andState, must be placed in the same category. Honest men must be made tolook upon their crimes with the same abhorrence and loathing, withwhich they regard the less guilty robber and assassin, until

 "The common damned shun their society, And look upon themselves as fiends less foul. "

When a just estimate is placed upon the crime of slave-holding, the workwill have been accomplished, and the glorious day ushered in--

 "When man nor woman in all our wide domain, Shall buy, or sell, or hold, or be a slave. "

J. C. Hathaway. 

--Farmington, N. Y. , 1847. 

NARRATIVE. 

CHAPTER I. 

I was born in Lexington, Ky. The man who stole me as soon as I was born, recorded the births of all the infants which he claimed to be born hisproperty, in a book which he kept for that purpose. My mother's name wasElizabeth. She had seven children, viz: Solomon, Leander, Benjamin, Joseph, Millford, Elizabeth, and myself. No two of us were children ofthe same father. My father's name, as I learned from my mother, wasGeorge Higgins. He was a white man, a relative of my master, andconnected with some of the first families in Kentucky. 

My master owned about forty slaves, twenty-five of whom were fieldhands. He removed from Kentucky to Missouri, when I was quite young, andsettled thirty or forty miles above St. Charles, on the Missouri, where, in addition to his practice as a physician, he carried on milling, merchandizing and farming. He had a large farm, the principalproductions of which were tobacco and hemp. The slave cabins weresituated on the back part of the farm, with the house of the overseer, whose name was Grove Cook, in their midst. He had the entire charge ofthe farm, and having no family, was allowed a woman to keep house forhim, whose business it was to deal out the provisions for the hands. 

A woman was also kept at the quarters to do the cooking for the fieldhands, who were summoned to their unrequited toil every morning at fouro'clock, by the ringing of a bell, hung on a post near the house of theoverseer. They were allowed half an hour to eat their breakfast, and getto the field. At half past four, a horn was blown by the overseer, whichwas the signal to commence work; and every one that was not on the spotat the time, had to receive ten lashes from the negro-whip, with whichthe overseer always went armed. The handle was about three feet long, with the butt-end filled with lead, and the lash six or seven feet inlength, made of cowhide, with platted wire on the end of it. This whipwas put in requisition very frequently and freely, and a small offenceon the part of a slave furnished an occasion for its use. During thetime that Mr. Cook was overseer, I was a house servant--a situationpreferable to that of a field hand, as I was better fed, better clothed, and not obliged to rise at the ringing of the bell, but about half anhour after. I have often laid and heard the crack of the whip, and thescreams of the slave. My mother was a field hand, and one morning wasten or fifteen minutes behind the others in getting into the field. Assoon as she reached the spot where they were at work, the overseercommenced whipping her. She cried, "Oh! pray--Oh! pray--Oh! pray"--theseare generally the words of slaves, when imploring mercy at the hands oftheir oppressors. I heard her voice, and knew it, and jumped out of mybunk, and went to the door. Though the field was some distance from thehouse, I could hear every crack of the whip, and every groan and cry ofmy poor mother. I remained at the door, not daring to venture anyfarther. The cold chills ran over me, and I wept aloud. After giving herten lashes, the sound of the whip ceased, and I returned to my bed, andfound no consolation but in my tears. It was not yet daylight. 

CHAPTER II. 

My master being a political demagogue, soon found those whowere ready to put him into office, for the favors he could render them;and a few years after his arrival in Missouri, he was elected to a seatin the Legislature. In his absence from home, everything was left incharge of Mr. Cook, the overseer, and he soon became more tyrannical andcruel. Among the slaves on the plantation, was one by the name ofRandall. He was a man about six feet high, and well-proportioned, andknown as a man of great strength and power. He was considered the mostvaluable and able-bodied slave on the plantation; but no matter how goodor useful a slave may be, he seldom escapes the lash. But it was not sowith Randall. He had been on the plantation since my earliestrecollection, and I had never known of his being flogged. No thankswere due to the master or overseer for this. I have often heard himdeclare, that no white man should ever whip him--that he would diefirst. 

Cook, from the time that he came upon the plantation, had frequentlydeclared, that he could and would flog any nigger that was put into thefield to work under him. My master had repeatedly told him not toattempt to whip Randall, but he was determined to try it. As soon as hewas left sole dictator, he thought the time had come to put his threatsinto execution. He soon began to find fault with Randall, and threatenedto whip him, if he did not do better. One day he gave him a very hardtask, --more than he could possibly do; and at night, the task not beingperformed, he told Randall that he should remember him the next morning. On the following morning, after the hands had taken breakfast, Cookcalled out to Randall, and told him that he intended to whip him, andordered him to cross his hands and be tied. Randall asked why he wishedto whip him. He answered, because he had not finished his task the daybefore. Randall said that the task was too great, or he should have doneit. Cook said it made no difference, --he should whip him. Randall stoodsilent for a moment, and then said, "Mr. Cook, I have always tried toplease you since you have been on the plantation, and I find you aredetermined not to be satisfied with my work, let me do as well as I may. No man has laid hands on me, to whip me, for the last ten years, and Ihave long since come to the conclusion not to be whipped by any manliving. " Cook, finding by Randall's determined look and gestures, thathe would resist, called three of the hands from their work, andcommanded them to seize Randall, and tie him. The hands stoodstill;--they knew Randall--and they also knew him to be a powerful man, and were afraid to grapple with him. As soon as Cook had ordered the mento seize him, Randall turned to them, and said--"Boys, you all know me;you know that I can handle any three of you, and the man that lays handson me shall die. This white man can't whip me himself, and therefore hehas called you to help him. " The overseer was unable to prevail uponthem to seize and secure Randall, and finally ordered them all to go totheir work together. 

Nothing was said to Randall by the overseer, for more than a week. Onemorning, however, while the hands were at work in the field, he cameinto it, accompanied by three friends of his, Thompson, Woodbridge andJones. They came up to where Randall was at work, and Cook ordered himto leave his work, and go with them to the barn. He refused to go;whereupon he was attacked by the overseer and his companions, when heturned upon them, and laid them, one after another, prostrate on theground. Woodbridge drew out his pistol, and fired at him, and broughthim to the ground by a pistol ball. The others rushed upon him withtheir clubs, and beat him over the head and face, until they succeededin tying him. He was then taken to the barn, and tied to a beam. Cookgave him over one hundred lashes with a heavy cowhide, had him washedwith salt and water, and left him tied during the day. The next day hewas untied, and taken to a blacksmith's shop, and had a ball and chainattached to his leg. He was compelled to labor in the field, and performthe same amount of work that the other hands did. When his masterreturned home, he was much pleased to find that Randall had been subduedin his absence. 

CHAPTER III. 

Soon afterwards, my master removed to the city of St. Louis, and purchased a farm four miles from there, which he placed under thecharge of an overseer by the name of Friend Haskell. He was a regularYankee from New England. The Yankees are noted for making the most crueloverseers. 

My mother was hired out in the city, and I was also hired out there toMajor Freeland, who kept a public house. He was formerly from Virginia, and was a horse-racer, cock-fighter, gambler, and withal an inveteratedrunkard. There were ten or twelve servants in the house, and when hewas present, it was cut and slash--knock down and drag out. In his fitsof anger, he would take up a chair, and throw it at a servant; and inhis more rational moments, when he wished to chastise one, he would tiethem up in the smoke-house, and whip them; after which, he would causea fire to be made of tobacco stems, and smoke them. This he called"_Virginia play_. "

I complained to my master of the treatment which I received from MajorFreeland; but it made no difference. He cared nothing about it, so longas he received the money for my labor. After living with Major Freelandfive or six months, I ran away, and went into the woods back of thecity; and when night came on, I made my way to my master's farm, but wasafraid to be seen, knowing that if Mr. Haskell, the overseer, shoulddiscover me, I should be again carried back to Major Freeland; so I keptin the woods. One day, while in the woods, I heard the barking andhowling of dogs, and in a short time they came so near, that I knew themto be the blood-hounds of Major Benjamin O'Fallon. He kept five or six, to hunt runaway slaves with. 

As soon as I was convinced that it was them, I knew there was no chanceof escape. I took refuge in the top of a tree, and the hounds were soonat its base, and there remained until the hunters came up in a half orthree quarters of an hour afterwards. There were two men with the dogs, who, as soon as they came up, ordered me to descend. I came down, wastied, and taken to St. Louis jail. Major Freeland soon made hisappearance, and took me out, and ordered me to follow him, which I did. After we returned home, I was tied up in the smoke-house, and was veryseverely whipped. After the Major had flogged me to his satisfaction, hesent out his son Robert, a young man eighteen or twenty years of age, tosee that I was well smoked. He made a fire of tobacco stems, which soonset me to coughing and sneezing. This, Robert told me, was the way hisfather used to do to his slaves in Virginia. After giving me what theyconceived to be a decent smoking, I was untied and again set to work. 

Robert Freeland was a "chip of the old block. " Though quite young, itwas not unfrequently that he came home in a state of intoxication. He isnow, I believe, a popular commander of a steamboat on the Mississippiriver. Major Freeland soon after failed in business, and I was put onboard the steamboat Missouri, which plied between St. Louis and Galena. The commander of the boat was William B. Culver. I remained on herduring the sailing season, which was the most pleasant time for me thatI had ever experienced. At the close of navigation, I was hired to Mr. John Colburn, keeper of the Missouri Hotel. He was from one of the FreeStates; but a more inveterate hater of the negro, I do not believe everwalked on God's green earth. This hotel was at that time one of thelargest in the city, and there were employed in it twenty or thirtyservants, mostly slaves. 

Mr. Colburn was very abusive, not only to the servants, but to his wifealso, who was an excellent woman, and one from whom I never knew aservant to receive a harsh word; but never did I know a kind one to aservant from her husband. Among the slaves employed in the hotel, wasone by the name of Aaron, who belonged to Mr. John F. Darby, a lawyer. Aaron was the knife-cleaner. One day, one of the knives was put on thetable, not as clean as it might have been. Mr. Colburn, for thisoffence, tied Aaron up in the wood-house, and gave him over fifty lasheson the bare back with a cowhide, after which, he made me wash him downwith rum. This seemed to put him into more agony than the whipping. After being untied, he went home to his master, and complained of thetreatment which he had received. Mr. Darby would give no heed toanything he had to say, but sent him directly back. Colburn, learningthat he had been to his master with complaints, tied him up again, andgave him a more severe whipping than before. The poor fellow's back wasliterally cut to pieces; so much so, that he was not able to work forten or twelve days. 

There was also, among the servants, a girl whose master resided in thecountry. Her name was Patsey. Mr. Colburn tied her up one evening, andwhipped her until several of the boarders came out and begged him todesist. The reason for whipping her was this. She was engaged to bemarried to a man belonging to Major William Christy, who resided four orfive miles north of the city. Mr. Colburn had forbid her to see JohnChristy. The reason of this was said to be the regard which he himselfhad for Patsey. She went to meeting that evening, and John returned homewith her. Mr. Colburn had intended to flog John, if he came within theinclosure; but John knew too well the temper of his rival, and kept at asafe distance;--so he took vengeance on the poor girl. If all theslave-drivers had been called together, I do not think a more cruel manthan John Colburn, --and he too a northern man, --could have been foundamong them. 

While living at the Missouri Hotel, a circumstance occurred which causedme great unhappiness. My master sold my mother, and all her children, except myself. They were sold to different persons in the city of St. Louis. 

CHAPTER IV. 

I was soon after taken from Mr. Colburn's, and hired to ElijahP. Lovejoy, who was at that time publisher and editor of the "St. LouisTimes. " My work, while with him, was mainly in the printing office, waiting on the hands, working the press, &c. Mr. Lovejoy was a very goodman, and decidedly the best master that I had ever had. I am chieflyindebted to him, and to my employment in the printing office, for whatlittle learning I obtained while in slavery. 

Though slavery is thought, by some, to be mild in Missouri, whencompared with the cotton, sugar and rice growing States, yet no part ofour slave-holding country, is more noted for the barbarity of itsinhabitants, than St. Louis. It was here that Col. Harney, a UnitedStates officer, whipped a slave woman to death. It was here that FrancisMcIntosh, a free colored man from Pittsburgh, was taken from thesteamboat Flora, and burned at the stake. During a residence of eightyears in this city, numerous cases of extreme cruelty came under my ownobservation;--to record them all, would occupy more space than couldpossibly be allowed in this little volume. I shall, therefore, give buta few more, in addition to what I have already related. 

Capt. J. B. Brunt, who resided near my master, had a slave named John. Hewas his body servant, carriage driver, &c. On one occasion, whiledriving his master through the city, --the streets being very muddy, andthe horses going at a rapid rate, --some mud spattered upon a gentlemanby the name of Robert More. More was determined to be revenged. Somethree or four months after this occurrence, he purchased John, for theexpress purpose, as he said, "to tame the d----d nigger. " After thepurchase, he took him to a blacksmith's shop, and had a ball and chainfastened to his leg, and then put him to driving a yoke of oxen, andkept him at hard labor, until the iron around his leg was so worn intothe flesh, that it was thought mortification would ensue. In addition tothis, John told me that his master whipped him regularly three times aweek for the first two months:--and all this to "_tame him_. " A morenoble looking man than he, was not to be found in all St. Louis, beforehe fell into the hands of More; and a more degraded and spirit-crushedlooking being was never seen on a southern plantation, after he had beensubjected to this "_taming_" process for three months. The last timethat I saw him, he had nearly lost the entire use of his limbs. 

While living with Mr. Lovejoy, I was often sent on errands to the officeof the "Missouri Republican, " published by Mr. Edward Charles. Once, while returning to the office with type, I was attacked by several largeboys, sons of slave-holders, who pelted me with snow-balls. Having theheavy form of type in my hands, I could not make my escape by running;so I laid down the type and gave them battle. They gathered around me, pelting me with stones and sticks, until they overpowered me, and wouldhave captured me, if I had not resorted to my heels. Upon my retreat, they took possession of the type; and what to do to regain it I couldnot devise. Knowing Mr. Lovejoy to be a very humane man, I went to theoffice, and laid the case before him. He told me to remain in theoffice. He took one of the apprentices with him, and went after thetype, and soon returned with it; but on his return informed me thatSamuel McKinney had told him that he would whip me, because I had hurthis boy. Soon after, McKinney was seen making his way to the office byone of the printers, who informed me of the fact, and I made my escapethrough the back door. 

McKinney not being able to find me on his arrival, left the office in agreat rage, swearing that he would whip me to death. A few days after, as I was walking along Main Street, he seized me by the collar, andstruck me over the head five or six times with a large cane, whichcaused the blood to gush from my nose and ears in such a manner that myclothes were completely saturated with blood. After beating me to hissatisfaction, he let me go, and I returned to the office so weak fromthe loss of blood, that Mr. Lovejoy sent me home to my master. It wasfive weeks before I was able to walk again. During this time, it wasnecessary to have some one to supply my place at the office, and I lostthe situation. 

After my recovery, I was hired to Capt. Otis Reynolds, as a waiter onboard the steamboat Enterprize, owned by Messrs. John and Edward Walsh, commission merchants at St. Louis. This boat was then running on theupper Mississippi. My employment on board was to wait on gentlemen, andthe captain being a good man, the situation was a pleasant one tome;--but in passing from place to place, and seeing new faces every day, and knowing that they could go where they pleased, I soon becameunhappy, and several times thought of leaving the boat at some landingplace, and trying to make my escape to Canada, which I had heard muchabout as a place where the slave might live, be free, and be protected. 

But whenever such thoughts would come into my mind, my resolution wouldsoon be shaken by the remembrance that my dear mother was a slave in St. Louis, and I could not bear the idea of leaving her in that condition. She had often taken me upon her knee, and told me how she had carried meupon her back to the field when I was an infant--how often she had beenwhipped for leaving her work to nurse me--and how happy I would appearwhen she would take me into her arms. When these thoughts came over me, I would resolve never to leave the land of slavery without my mother. Ithought that to leave her in slavery, after she had undergone andsuffered so much for me, would be proving recreant to the duty which Iowed to her. Besides this, I had three brothers and a sister there, --twoof my brothers having died. 

My mother, my brothers Joseph and Millford, and my sister Elizabeth, belonged to Mr. Isaac Mansfield, formerly from one of the Free States, (Massachusetts, I believe. ) He was a tinner by trade, and carried on alarge manufacturing establishment. Of all my relatives, mother wasfirst, and sister next. One evening, while visiting them, I made someallusion to a proposed journey to Canada, and sister took her seat bymy side, and taking my hand in hers, said, with tears in her eyes, --

"Brother, you are not going to leave mother and your dear sister herewithout a friend, are you?"

I looked into her face, as the tears coursed swiftly down her cheeks, and bursting into tears myself, said--

"No, I will never desert you and mother. "

She clasped my hand in hers, and said--

"Brother, you have often declared that you would not end your days inslavery. I see no possible way in which you can escape with us; and now, brother, you are on a steamboat where there is some chance for you toescape to a land of liberty. I beseech you not to let us hinder you. Ifwe cannot get our liberty, we do not wish to be the means of keeping youfrom a land of freedom. "

I could restrain my feelings no longer, and an outburst of my ownfeelings, caused her to cease speaking upon that subject. In oppositionto their wishes, I pledged myself not to leave them in the hand of theoppressor. I took leave of them, and returned to the boat, and laid downin my bunk; but "sleep departed from my eyes, and slumber from myeyelids. "

A few weeks after, on our downward passage, the boat took on board, atHannibal, a drove of slaves, bound for the New Orleans market. Theynumbered from fifty to sixty, consisting of men and women from eighteento forty years of age. A drove of slaves on a southern steamboat, boundfor the cotton or sugar regions, is an occurrence so common, that noone, not even the passengers, appear to notice it, though they clanktheir chains at every step. There was, however, one in this gang thatattracted the attention of the passengers and crew. It was a beautifulgirl, apparently about twenty years of age, perfectly white, withstraight light hair and blue eyes. But it was not the whiteness of herskin that created such a sensation among those who gazed upon her--itwas her almost unparalleled beauty. She had been on the boat but a shorttime, before the attention of all the passengers, including the ladies, had been called to her, and the common topic of conversation was aboutthe beautiful slave-girl. She was not in chains. The man who claimedthis article of human merchandize was a Mr. Walker, --a well knownslave-trader, residing in St. Louis. There was a general anxiety amongthe passengers and crew to learn the history of the girl. Her masterkept close by her side, and it would have been considered impudent forany of the passengers to have spoken to her, and the crew were notallowed to have any conversation with them. When we reached St. Louis, the slaves were removed to a boat bound for New Orleans, and the historyof the beautiful slave-girl remained a mystery. 

I remained on the boat during the season, and it was not an unfrequentoccurrence to have on board gangs of slaves on their way to the cotton, sugar and rice plantations of the South. 

Toward the latter part of the summer, Captain Reynolds left the boat, and I was sent home. I was then placed on the farm under Mr. Haskell, the overseer. As I had been some time out of the field, and notaccustomed to work in the burning sun, it was very hard; but I wascompelled to keep up with the best of the hands. 

I found a great difference between the work in a steamboat cabin andthat in a corn-field. 

My master, who was then living in the city, soon after removed to thefarm, when I was taken out of the field to work in the house as awaiter. Though his wife was very peevish, and hard to please, I muchpreferred to be under her control than the overseer's. They brought withthem Mr. Sloane, a Presbyterian minister; Miss Martha Tulley, a neice oftheirs from Kentucky; and their nephew William. The latter had been inthe family a number of years, but the others were all new-comers. 

Mr. Sloane was a young minister, who had been at the South but a shorttime, and it seemed as if his whole aim was to please the slaveholders, especially my master and mistress. He was intending to make a visitduring the winter, and he not only tried to please them, but I think hesucceeded admirably. When they wanted singing, he sung; when they wantedpraying, he prayed; when they wanted a story told, he told a story. Instead of his teaching my master theology, my master taught theology tohim. While I was with Captain Reynolds, my master "got religion, " andnew laws were made on the plantation. Formerly, we had the privilege ofhunting, fishing, making splint brooms, baskets, &c. On Sunday; but thiswas all stopped. Every Sunday, we were all compelled to attend meeting. Master was so religious, that he induced some others to join him inhiring a preacher to preach to the slaves. 

CHAPTER V. 

My master had family worship, night and morning. At night, theslaves were called in to attend; but in the mornings, they had to be attheir work, and master did all the praying. My master and mistress weregreat lovers of mint julep, and every morning, a pitcher-full was made, of which they all partook freely, not excepting little master William. After drinking freely all round, they would have family worship, andthen breakfast. I cannot say but I loved the julep as well as any ofthem, and during prayer was always careful to seat myself close to thetable where it stood, so as to help myself when they were all busilyengaged in their devotions. By the time prayer was over, I was about ashappy as any of them. A sad accident happened one morning. In helpingmyself, and at the same time keeping an eye on my old mistress, Iaccidentally let the pitcher fall upon the floor, breaking it in pieces, and spilling the contents. This was a bad affair for me; for as soon asprayer was over, I was taken and severely chastised. 

My master's family consisted of himself, his wife, and their nephew, William Moore. He was taken into the family, when only a few weeks ofage. His name being that of my own, mine was changed, for the purpose ofgiving precedence to his, though I was his senior by ten or twelveyears. The plantation being four miles from the city, I had to drive thefamily to church. I always dreaded the approach of the Sabbath; for, during service, I was obliged to stand by the horses in the hot broilingsun, or in the rain, just as it happened. 

One Sabbath, as we were driving past the house of D. D. Page, a gentlemanwho owned a large baking establishment, as I was sitting upon the box ofthe carriage, which was very much elevated, I saw Mr. Page pursuing aslave around the yard, with a long whip, cutting him at every jump. Theman soon escaped from the yard, and was followed by Mr. Page. They camerunning past us, and the slave perceiving that he would be overtaken, stopped suddenly, and Page stumbled over him, and falling on the stonepavement, fractured one of his legs, which crippled him for life. Thesame gentleman, but a short time previous, tied up a woman of his, bythe name of Delphia, and whipped her nearly to death; yet he was adeacon in the Baptist church, in good and regular standing. PoorDelphia! I was well acquainted with her, and called to see her whileupon her sick bed; and I shall never forget her appearance. She was amember of the same church with her master. 

Soon after this, I was hired out to Mr. Walker; the same man whom I havementioned as having carried a gang of slaves down the river, on thesteamboat Enterprize. Seeing me in the capacity of steward on the boat, and thinking that I would make a good hand to take care of slaves, hedetermined to have me for that purpose; and finding that my master wouldnot sell me, he hired me for the term of one year. 

When I learned the fact of my having been hired to a negro speculator, or a "soul-driver" as they are generally called among slaves, no one cantell my emotions. Mr. Walker had offered a high price for me, as Iafterwards learned, but I suppose my master was restrained from sellingme by the fact that I was a near relative of his. On entering theservice of Mr. Walker, I found that my opportunity of getting to a landof liberty was gone, at least for the time being. He had a gang ofslaves in readiness to start for New Orleans, and in a few days we wereon our journey. I am at a loss for language to express my feelings onthat occasion. Although my master had told me that he had not sold me, and Mr. Walker had told me that he had not purchased me, I did notbelieve them; and not until I had been to New Orleans, and was on myreturn, did I believe that I was not sold. 

There was on the boat a large room on the lower deck, in which theslaves were kept, men and women, promiscuously--all chained two and two, and a strict watch kept that they did not get loose; for cases haveoccurred in which slaves have got off their chains, and made theirescape at landing-places, while the boats were taking in wood;--and withall our care, we lost one woman who had been taken from her husband andchildren, and having no desire to live without them, in the agony of hersoul jumped overboard, and drowned herself. She was not chained. 

It was almost impossible to keep that part of the boat clean. 

On landing at Natchez, the slaves were all carried to the slave-pen, andthere kept one week, during which time, several of them were sold. Mr. Walker fed his slaves well. We took on board, at St. Louis, severalhundred pounds of bacon (smoked meat) and corn-meal, and his slaves werebetter fed than slaves generally were in Natchez, so far as myobservation extended. 

At the end of a week, we left for New Orleans, the place of our finaldestination, which we reached in two days. Here the slaves were placedin a negro-pen, where those who wished to purchase could call andexamine them. The negro-pen is a small yard, surrounded by buildings, from fifteen to twenty feet wide, with the exception of a large gatewith iron bars. The slaves are kept in the buildings during the night, and turned out into the yard during the day. After the best of the stockwas sold at private sale at the pen, the balance were taken to theExchange Coffee House Auction Rooms, kept by Isaac L. McCoy, and sold atpublic auction. After the sale of this lot of slaves, we left NewOrleans for St. Louis. 

CHAPTER VI. 

On our arrival at St. Louis, I went to Dr. Young, and told himthat I did not wish to live with Mr. Walker any longer. I was heart-sickat seeing my fellow-creatures bought and sold. But the Dr. Had hired mefor the year, and stay I must. Mr. Walker again commenced purchasinganother gang of slaves. He bought a man of Colonel John O'Fallon, whoresided in the suburbs of the city. This man had a wife and threechildren. As soon as the purchase was made, he was put in jail for safekeeping, until we should be ready to start for New Orleans. His wifevisited him while there, several times, and several times when she wentfor that purpose was refused admittance. 

In the course of eight or nine weeks Mr. Walker had his cargo of humanflesh made up. There was in this lot a number of old men and women, someof them with gray locks. We left St. Louis in the steamboat Carlton, Captain Swan, bound for New Orleans. On our way down, and before wereached Rodney, the place where we made our first stop, I had to preparethe old slaves for market. I was ordered to have the old men's whiskersshaved off, and the grey hairs plucked out, where they were not toonumerous, in which case he had a preparation of blacking to color it, and with a blacking-brush we would put it on. This was new business tome, and was performed in a room where the passengers could not see us. These slaves were also taught how old they were by Mr. Walker, and aftergoing through the blacking process, they looked ten or fifteen yearsyounger; and I am sure that some of those who purchased slaves of Mr. Walker, were dreadfully cheated, especially in the ages of the slaveswhich they bought. 

We landed at Rodney, and the slaves were driven to the pen in the backpart of the village. Several were sold at this place, during our stay offour or five days, when we proceeded to Natchez. There we landed atnight, and the gang were put in the warehouse until morning, when theywere driven to the pen. As soon as the slaves are put in these pens, swarms of planters may be seen in and about them. They knew when Walkerwas expected, as he always had the time advertised beforehand when hewould be in Rodney, Natchez, and New Orleans. These were the principalplaces where he offered his slaves for sale. 

When at Natchez the second time, I saw a slave very cruelly whipped. Hebelonged to a Mr. Broadwell, a merchant who kept a store on the wharf. The slave's name was Lewis. I had known him several years, as he wasformerly from St. Louis. We were expecting a steamboat down the river, in which we were to take passage for New Orleans. Mr. Walker sent me tothe landing to watch for the boat, ordering me to inform him on itsarrival. While there, I went into the store to see Lewis. I saw a slavein the store, and asked him where Lewis was. Said he, "They have gotLewis hanging between the heavens and the earth. " I asked him what hemeant by that. He told me to go into the warehouse and see. I went in, and found Lewis there. He was tied up to a beam, with his toes justtouching the floor. As there was no one in the warehouse but himself, Iinquired the reason of his being in that situation. He said Mr. Broadwell had sold his wife to a planter six miles from the city, andthat he had been to visit her, --that he went in the night, expecting toreturn before daylight, and went without his master's permission. Thepatrol had taken him up before he reached his wife. He was put in jail, and his master had to pay for his catching and keeping, and that waswhat he was tied up for. 

Just as he finished his story, Mr. Broadwell came in, and inquired whatI was doing there. I knew not what to say, and while I was thinking whatreply to make, he struck me over the head with the cowhide, the end ofwhich struck me over my right eye, sinking deep into the flesh, leavinga scar which I carry to this day. Before I visited Lewis, he hadreceived fifty lashes. Mr. Broadwell gave him fifty lashes more after Icame out, as I was afterwards informed by Lewis himself. 

The next day we proceeded to New Orleans, and put the gang in the samenegro-pen which we occupied before. In a short time, the planters cameflocking to the pen to purchase slaves. Before the slaves were exhibitedfor sale, they were dressed and driven out into the yard. Some were setto dancing, some to jumping, some to singing, and some to playing cards. This was done to make them appear cheerful and happy. My business was tosee that they were placed in those situations before the arrival of thepurchasers, and I have often set them to dancing when their cheeks werewet with tears. As slaves were in good demand at that time, they wereall soon disposed of, and we again set out for St. Louis. 

On our arrival, Mr. Walker purchased a farm five or six miles from thecity. He had no family, but made a housekeeper of one of his femaleslaves. Poor Cynthia! I knew her well. She was a quadroon, and one ofthe most beautiful women I ever saw. She was a native of St. Louis, andbore an irreproachable character for virtue and propriety of conduct. Mr. Walker bought her for the New Orleans market, and took her down withhim on one of the trips that I made with him. Never shall I forget thecircumstances of that voyage! On the first night that we were on boardthe steamboat, he directed me to put her into a state-room he hadprovided for her, apart from the other slaves. I had seen too much ofthe workings of slavery, not to know what this meant. I accordinglywatched him into the state-room, and listened to hear what passedbetween them. I heard him make his base offers, and her reject them. Hetold her that if she would accept his vile proposals, he would take herback with him to St. Louis, and establish her as his housekeeper at hisfarm. But if she persisted in rejecting them, he would sell her as afield hand on the worst plantation on the river. Neither threats norbribes prevailed, however, and he retired, disappointed of his prey. 

The next morning, poor Cynthia told me what had past, and bewailed hersad fate with floods of tears. I comforted and encouraged her all Icould; but I foresaw but too well what the result must be. Withoutentering into any farther particulars, suffice it to say that Walkerperformed his part of the contract, at that time. He took her back toSt. Louis, established her as his mistress and housekeeper at his farm, and before I left, he had two children by her. But, mark the end! SinceI have been at the North, I have been credibly informed that Walker hasbeen married, and, as a previous measure, sold poor Cynthia and her fourchildren (she having had two more since I came away) into hopelessbondage!

He soon commenced purchasing to make up the third gang. We tooksteamboat, and went to Jefferson City, a town on the Missouri river. Here we landed, and took stage for the interior of the State. He boughta number of slaves as he passed the different farms and villages. Aftergetting twenty-two or twenty-three men and women, we arrived at St. Charles, a village on the banks of the Missouri. Here he purchased awoman who had a child in her arms, appearing to be four or five weeksold. 

We had been travelling by land for some days, and were in hopes to havefound a boat at this place for St. Louis, but were disappointed. As noboat was expected for some days, we started for St. Louis by land. Mr. Walker had purchased two horses. He rode one, and I the other. Theslaves were chained together, and we took up our line of march, Mr. Walker taking the lead, and I bringing up the rear. Though the distancewas not more than twenty miles, we did not reach it the first day. Theroad was worse than any that I have ever travelled. 

Soon after we left St. Charles, the young child grew very cross, andkept up a noise during the greater part of the day. Mr. Walkercomplained of its crying several times, and told the mother to stop thechild's d----d noise, or he would. The woman tried to keep the childfrom crying, but could not. We put up at night with an acquaintance ofMr. Walker, and in the morning, just as we were about to start, thechild again commenced crying. Walker stepped up to her, and told her togive the child to him. The mother tremblingly obeyed. He took the childby one arm, as you would a cat by the leg, walked into the house, andsaid to the lady, "Madam, I will make you a present of this little nigger; it keeps such anoise that I can't bear it. "

"Thank you, sir, " said the lady. 

The mother, as soon as she saw that her child was to be left, ran up toMr. Walker, and falling upon her knees begged him to let her have herchild; she clung around his legs, and cried, "Oh, my child! my child!master, do let me have my child! oh, do, do, do. I will stop its crying, if you will only let me have it again. " When I saw this woman crying forher child so piteously, a shudder, --a feeling akin to horror, shotthrough my frame. I have often since in imagination heard her crying forher child:--

 "O, master, let me stay to catch My baby's sobbing breath, His little glassy eye to watch, And smooth his limbs in death, And cover him with grass and leaf, Beneath the large oak tree: It is not sullenness, but grief, -- O, master, pity me!

 The morn was chill--I spoke no word, But feared my babe might die, And heard all day, or thought I heard, My little baby cry. 

 At noon, oh, how I ran and took My baby to my breast! I lingered--and the long lash broke My sleeping infant's rest. 

 I worked till night--till darkest night, In torture and disgrace; Went home and watched till morning light, To see my baby's face. 

 Then give me but one little hour-- O! do not lash me so! One little hour--one little hour-- And gratefully I'll go. "

Mr. Walker commanded her to return into the ranks with the other slaves. Women who had children were not chained, but those that had none were. As soon as her child was disposed of, she was chained in the gang. 

The following song I have often heard the slaves sing, when about to becarried to the far south. It is said to have been composed by a slave. 

 "See these poor souls from Africa Transported to America; We are stolen, and sold to Georgia, Will you go along with me? We are stolen, and sold to Georgia, Come sound the jubilee!

 See wives and husbands sold apart, Their children's screams will break my heart;-- There's a better day a coming, Will you go along with me? There's a better day a coming, Go sound the jubilee!

 O, gracious Lord! when shall it be, That we poor souls shall all be free; Lord, break them slavery powers-- Will you go along with me? Lord break them slavery powers, Go sound the jubilee!

 Dear Lord, dear Lord, when slavery'll cease, Then we poor souls will have our peace;-- There's a better day a coming, Will you go along with me? There's a better day a coming, Go sound the jubilee!"

We finally arrived at Mr. Walker's farm. He had a house built during ourabsence to put slaves in. It was a kind of domestic jail. The slaveswere put in the jail at night, and worked on the farm during the day. They were kept here until the gang was completed, when we again startedfor New Orleans, on board the steamboat North America, Capt. AlexanderScott. We had a large number of slaves in this gang. One, by the name ofJoe, Mr. Walker was training up to take my place, as my time was nearlyout, and glad was I. We made our first stop at Vicksburg, where weremained one week and sold several slaves. 

Mr. Walker, though not a good master, had not flogged a slave since Ihad been with him, though he had threatened me. The slaves were kept inthe pen, and he always put up at the best hotel, and kept his wines inhis room, for the accommodation of those who called to negotiate withhim for the purchase of slaves. One day while we were at Vicksburg, several gentlemen came to see him for this purpose, and as usual thewine was called for. I took the tray and started around with it, andhaving accidentally filled some of the glasses too full, the gentlemenspilled the wine on their clothes as they went to drink. Mr. Walkerapologized to them for my carelessness, but looked at me as though hewould see me again on this subject. 

After the gentlemen had left the room, he asked me what I meant by mycarelessness, and said that he would attend to me. The next morning, hegave me a note to carry to the jailer, and a dollar in money to give tohim. I suspected that all was not right, so I went down near the landingwhere I met with a sailor, and walking up to him, asked him if he wouldbe so kind as to read the note for me. He read it over, and then lookedat me. I asked him to tell me what was in it. Said he, "They are going to give you hell. "

"Why?" said I. 

He said, "This is a note to have you whipped, and says that you have adollar to pay for it. "

He handed me back the note, and off I started. I knew not what to do, but was determined not to be whipped. I went up to the jail--took a lookat it, and walked off again. As Mr. Walker was acquainted with thejailer, I feared that I should be found out if I did not go, and betreated in consequence of it still worse. 

While I was meditating on the subject, I saw a colored man about my sizewalk up, and the thought struck me in a moment to send him with my note. I walked up to him, and asked him who he belonged to. He said he was afree man, and had been in the city but a short time. I told him I had anote to go into the jail, and get a trunk to carry to one of thesteamboats; but was so busily engaged that I could not do it, although Ihad a dollar to pay for it. He asked me if I would not give him the job. I handed him the note and the dollar, and off he started for the jail. 

I watched to see that he went in, and as soon as I saw the door closebehind him, I walked around the corner, and took my station, intendingto see how my friend looked when he came out. I had been there but ashort time, when a colored man came around the corner, and said toanother colored man with whom he was acquainted--

"They are giving a nigger scissors in the jail. "

"What for?" said the other. The man continued, "A nigger came into the jail, and asked for the jailer. The jailer cameout, and he handed him a note, and said he wanted to get a trunk. Thejailer told him to go with him, and he would give him the trunk. So hetook him into the room, and told the nigger to give up the dollar. Hesaid a man had given him the dollar to pay for getting the trunk. Butthat lie would not answer. So they made him strip himself, and then theytied him down, and are now whipping him. "

I stood by all the while listening to their talk, and soon found outthat the person alluded to was my customer. I went into the streetopposite the jail, and concealed myself in such a manner that I couldnot be seen by any one coming out. I had been there but a short time, when the young man made his appearance, and looked around for me. I, unobserved, came forth from my hiding-place, behind a pile of brick, andhe pretty soon saw me and came up to me complaining bitterly, sayingthat I had played a trick upon him. I denied any knowledge of what thenote contained, and asked him what they had done to him. He told me insubstance what I heard the man tell who had come out of the jail. 

"Yes, " said he, "they whipped me and took my dollar, and gave me thisnote. "

He showed me the note which the jailer had given him, telling him togive it to his master. I told him I would give him fifty cents forit, --that being all the money I had. He gave it to me, and took hismoney. He had received twenty lashes on his bare back, with thenegro-whip. 

I took the note and started for the hotel where I had left Mr. Walker. Upon reaching the hotel, I handed it to a stranger whom I had not seenbefore, and requested him to read it to me. As near as I can recollect, it was as follows:--

 "DEAR SIR:--By your direction, I have given your boy twenty lashes. He is a very saucy boy, and tried to make me believe that he did not belong to you, and I put it on to him well for lying to me. 

 I remain, Your obedient servant. "

It is true that in most of the slave-holding cities, when a gentlemanwishes his servants whipped, he can send him to the jail and have itdone. Before I went in where Mr. Walker was, I wet my cheeks a little, as though I had been crying. He looked at me, and inquired what was thematter. I told him that I had never had such a whipping in my life, andhanded him the note. He looked at it and laughed;--"and so you told himthat you did not belong to me. " "Yes, sir, " said I. "I did not know thatthere was any harm in that. " He told me I must behave myself, if I didnot want to be whipped again. 

This incident shows how it is that slavery makes its victims lying andmean; for which vices it afterwards reproaches them, and uses them asarguments to prove that they deserve no better fate. I have often, since my escape, deeply regretted the deception I practised upon thispoor fellow; and I heartily desire that it may be, at some time orother, in my power to make him amends for his vicarious sufferings in mybehalf. 

CHAPTER VII. 

In a few days we reached New Orleans, and arriving there in thenight, remained on board until morning. While at New Orleans this time, I saw a slave killed; an account of which has been published by TheodoreD. Weld, in his book entitled, "Slavery as it is. " The circumstanceswere as follows. In the evening, between seven and eight o'clock, aslave came running down the levee, followed by several men and boys. Thewhites were crying out, "Stop that nigger; stop that nigger;" while thepoor panting slave, in almost breathless accents, was repeating, "I didnot steal the meat--I did not steal the meat. " The poor man at last tookrefuge in the river. The whites who were in pursuit of him, run on boardof one of the boats to see if they could discover him. They finallyespied him under the bow of the steamboat Trenton. They got a pike-pole, and tried to drive him from his hiding place. When they would strike athim, he would dive under the water. The water was so cold, that it soonbecame evident that he must come out or be drowned. 

While they were trying to drive him from under the bow of the boat ordrown him, he would in broken and imploring accents say, "I did notsteal the meat; I did not steal the meat. My master lives up the river. I want to see my master. I did not steal the meat. Do let me go home tomaster. " After punching him, and striking him over the head for sometime, he at last sunk in the water, to rise no more alive. 

On the end of the pike-pole with which they were striking him was a hookwhich caught in his clothing, and they hauled him up on the bow of theboat. Some said he was dead, others said he was "_playing possum_" whileothers kicked him to make him get up, but it was of no use--he was dead. 

As soon as they became satisfied of this, they commenced leaving, oneafter another. One of the hands on the boat informed the captain thatthey had killed the man, and that the dead body was lying on the deck. The captain came on deck, and said to those who were remaining, "Youhave killed this nigger; now take him off of my boat. " The captain'sname was Hart. The dead body was dragged on shore and left there. I wenton board of the boat where our gang of slaves were, and during the wholenight my mind was occupied with what I had seen. Early in the morning, Iwent on shore to see if the dead body remained there. I found it in thesame position that it was left the night before. I watched to see whatthey would do with it. It was left there until between eight and nineo'clock, when a cart, which takes up the trash out of the streets, camealong, and the body was thrown in, and in a few minutes more was coveredover with dirt which they were removing from the streets. During thewhole time, I did not see more than six or seven persons around it, who, from their manner, evidently regarded it as no uncommon occurrence. 

During our stay in the city, I met with a young white man with whom Iwas well acquainted in St. Louis. He had been sold into slavery, underthe following circumstances. His father was a drunkard, and very poor, with a family of five or six children. The father died, and left themother to take care of and provide for the children as best she might. The eldest was a boy, named Burrill, about thirteen years of age, whodid chores in a store kept by Mr. Riley, to assist his mother inprocuring a living for the family. After working with him two years, Mr. Riley took him to New Orleans to wait on him while in that city on avisit, and when he returned to St. Louis, he told the mother of the boythat he had died with the yellow fever. Nothing more was heard from him, no one supposing him to be alive. I was much astonished when Burrilltold me his story. Though I sympathized with him, I could not assisthim. We were both slaves. He was poor, uneducated, and without friends;and if living, is, I presume, still held as a slave. 

After selling out this cargo of human flesh, we returned to St. Louis, and my time was up with Mr. Walker. I had served him one year, and itwas the longest year I ever lived. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

I was sent home, and was glad enough to leave the service of one who wastearing the husband from the wife, the child from the mother, and thesister from the brother, --but a trial more severe and heart-rending thanany which I had yet met with awaited me. My dear sister had been sold toa man who was going to Natchez, and was lying in jail awaiting the hourof his departure. She had expressed her determination to die, ratherthan go to the far south, and she was put in jail for safe keeping. Iwent to the jail the same day that I arrived, but as the jailor was notin, I could not see her. 

I went home to my master, in the country, and the first day after myreturn, he came where I was at work, and spoke to me very politely. Iknew from his appearance that something was the matter. After talkingabout my several journeys to New Orleans with Mr. Walker, he told methat he was hard pressed for money, and as he had sold my mother and allher children except me, he thought it would be better to sell me thanany other one, and that as I had been used to living in the city, hethought it probable that I would prefer it to a country life. I raisedup my head, and looked him full in the face. When my eyes caught his, heimmediately looked to the ground. After a short pause, I said, "Master, mother has often told me that you are a near relative of mine, and I have often heard you admit the fact; and after you have hired meout, and received, as I once heard you say, nine hundred dollars for myservices, --after receiving this large sum, will you sell me to becarried to New Orleans or some other place?"

"No, " said he, "I do not intend to sell you to a negro trader. If I hadwished to have done that, I might have sold you to Mr. Walker for alarge sum, but I would not sell you to a negro trader. You may go to thecity, and find you a good master. "

"But, " said I, "I cannot find a good master in the whole city of St. Louis. "

"Why?" said he. 

"Because there are no good masters in the State. "

"Do you not call me a good master?"

"If you were, you would not sell me. "

"Now I will give you one week to find a master in, and surely you can doit in that time. "

The price set by my evangelical master upon my soul and body was thetrifling sum of five hundred dollars. I tried to enter into somearrangement by which I might purchase my freedom; but he would enterinto no such arrangement. 

I set out for the city with the understanding that I was to return in aweek with some one to become my new master. Soon after reaching thecity, I went to the jail, to learn if I could once more see my sister;but could not gain admission. I then went to mother, and learned fromher that the owner of my sister intended to start for Natchez in a fewdays. 

I went to the jail again the next day, and Mr. Simonds, the keeper, allowed me to see my sister for the last time. I cannot give a justdescription of the scene at that parting interview. Never, never can beerased from my heart the occurrences of that day! When I entered theroom where she was, she was seated in one corner, alone. There were fourother women in the same room, belonging to the same man. He hadpurchased them, he said, for his own use. She was seated with her facetowards the door where I entered, yet she did not look up until I walkedup to her. As soon as she observed me, she sprung up, threw her armsaround my neck, leaned her head upon my breast, and, without uttering aword, burst into tears. As soon as she recovered herself sufficiently tospeak, she advised me to take mother, and try to get out of slavery. Shesaid there was no hope for herself, --that she must live and die a slave. After giving her some advice, and taking from my finger a ring andplacing it upon hers, I bade her farewell forever, and returned to mymother, and then and there made up my mind to leave for Canada as soonas possible. 

I had been in the city nearly two days, and as I was to be absent only aweek, I thought best to get on my journey as soon as possible. Inconversing with mother, I found her unwilling to make the attempt toreach a land of liberty, but she counselled me to get my liberty if Icould. She said, as all her children were in slavery, she did not wishto leave them. I could not bear the idea of leaving her among thosepirates, when there was a prospect of being able to get away from them. After much persuasion, I succeeded in inducing her to make the attemptto get away. 

The time fixed for our departure was the next night. I had with me alittle money that I had received, from time to time, from gentlemen forwhom I had done errands. I took my scanty means and purchased some driedbeef, crackers and cheese, which I carried to mother, who had providedherself with a bag to carry it in. I occasionally thought of my oldmaster, and of my mission to the city to find a new one. I waited withthe most intense anxiety for the appointed time to leave the land ofslavery, in search of a land of liberty. 

The time at length arrived, and we left the city just as the clockstruck nine. We proceeded to the upper part of the city, where I hadbeen two or three times during the day, and selected a skiff to carry usacross the river. The boat was not mine, nor did I know to whom it didbelong; neither did I care. The boat was fastened with a small pole, which, with the aid of a rail, I soon loosened from its moorings. Afterhunting round and finding a board to use as an oar, I turned to thecity, and bidding it a long farewell, pushed off my boat. The currentrunning very swift, we had not reached the middle of the stream beforewe were directly opposite the city. 

We were soon upon the Illinois shore, and, leaping from the boat, turnedit adrift, and the last I saw of it, it was going down the river at goodspeed. We took the main road to Alton, and passed through just atdaylight, when we made for the woods, where we remained during the day. Our reason for going into the woods was, that we expected that Mr. Mansfield (the man who owned my mother) would start in pursuit of her assoon as he discovered that she was missing. He also knew that I had beenin the city looking for a new master, and we thought probably he wouldgo out to my master's to see if he could find my mother, and in sodoing, Dr. Young might be led to suspect that I had gone to Canada tofind a purchaser. 

We remained in the woods during the day, and as soon as darknessovershadowed the earth, we started again on our gloomy way, having noguide but the north star. We continued to travel by night, andsecrete ourselves in woods by day; and every night, before emergingfrom our hiding-place, we would anxiously look for our friend andleader, --the NORTH STAR. 

CHAPTER IX. 

As we travelled towards a land of liberty, my heart would at times leapfor joy. At other times, being, as I was, almost constantly on my feet, I felt as though I could travel no further. But when I thought ofslavery with its Democratic whips--its Republican chains--itsevangelical blood-hounds, and its religious slave-holders--when Ithought of all this paraphernalia of American Democracy and Religionbehind me, and the prospect of liberty before me, I was encouraged topress forward, my heart was strengthened, and I forgot that I was tiredor hungry. 

On the eighth day of our journey, we had a very heavy rain, and in a fewhours after it commenced, we had not a dry thread upon our bodies. Thismade our journey still more unpleasant. On the tenth day, we foundourselves entirely destitute of provisions, and how to obtain any wecould not tell. We finally resolved to stop at some farmhouse, and tryto get something to eat. We had no sooner determined to do this, than wewent to a house, and asked them for some food. We were treated withgreat kindness, and they not only gave us something to eat, but gave usprovisions to carry with us. They advised us to travel by day, and lyeby at night. Finding ourselves about one hundred and fifty miles fromSt. Louis, we concluded that it would be safe to travel by daylight, anddid not leave the house until the next morning. We travelled on that daythrough a thickly settled country, and through one small village. Thoughwe were fleeing from a land of oppression, our hearts were still there. My dear sister and two beloved brothers were behind us, and the idea ofgiving them up, and leaving them forever, made us feel sad. But with allthis depression of heart, the thought that I should one day be free, andcall my body my own, buoyed me up, and made my heart leap for joy. I hadjust been telling mother how I should try to get employment as soon aswe reached Canada, and how I intended to purchase us a little farm, andhow I would earn money enough to buy sister and brothers, and how happywe would be in our own Free Home, --when three men came up onhorseback, and ordered us to stop. 

I turned to the one who appeared to be the principal man, and asked himwhat he wanted. He said he had a warrant to take us up. The threeimmediately dismounted, and one took from his pocket a handbill, advertising us as runaways, and offering a reward of two hundred dollarsfor our apprehension, and delivery in the city of St. Louis. Theadvertisement had been put out by Isaac Mansfield and John Young. 

While they were reading the advertisement, mother looked me in the face, and burst into tears. A cold chill ran over me, and such a sensation Inever experienced before, and I hope never to again. They took out arope and tied me, and we were taken back about six miles, to the houseof the individual who appeared to be the leader. We reached there aboutseven o'clock in the evening, had supper, and were separated for thenight. Two men remained in the room during the night. Before the familyretired to rest, they were all called together to attend prayers. Theman who but a few hours before had bound my hands together with a strongcord, read a chapter from the Bible, and then offered up prayer, just asthough God sanctioned the act he had just committed upon a poor panting, fugitive slave. 

The next morning, a blacksmith came in, and put a pair of handcuffs onme, and we started on our journey back to the land of whips, chains andBibles. Mother was not tied, but was closely watched at night. We werecarried back in a wagon, and after four days travel, we came in sight ofSt. Louis. I cannot describe my feelings upon approaching the city. 

As we were crossing the ferry, Mr. Wiggins, the owner of the ferry, cameup to me, and inquired what I had been doing that I was in chains. Hehad not heard that I had run away. In a few minutes, we were on theMissouri side, and were taken directly to the jail. On the way thither, I saw several of my friends, who gave me a nod of recognition as Ipassed them. After reaching the jail, we were locked up in differentapartments. 

CHAPTER X. 

I had been in jail but a short time when I heard that my master wassick, and nothing brought more joy to my heart than that intelligence. Iprayed fervently for him--not for his recovery, but for his death. Iknew he would be exasperated at having to pay for my apprehension, andknowing his cruelty, I feared him. While in jail, I learned that mysister Elizabeth, who was in prison when we left the city, had beencarried off four days before our arrival. 

I had been in jail but a few hours when three negro-traders, learningthat I was secured thus for running away, came to my prison-house andlooked at me, expecting that I would be offered for sale. Mr. Mansfield, the man who owned mother, came into the jail as soon as Mr. Jones, theman who arrested us, informed him that he had brought her back. He toldher that he would not whip her, but would sell her to a negro-trader, ortake her to New Orleans himself. After being in jail about one week, master sent a man to take me out of jail, and send me home. I was takenout and carried home, and the old man was well enough to sit up. He hadme brought into the room where he was, and as I entered, he asked mewhere I had been? I told I had acted according to his orders. He hadtold me to look for a master, and I had been to look for one. Heanswered that he did not tell me to go to Canada to look for a master. Itold him that as I had served him faithfully, and had been the means ofputting a number of hundreds of dollars into his pocket, I thought I hada right to my liberty. He said he had promised my father that I shouldnot be sold to supply the New Orleans market, or he would sell me to anegro-trader. 

I was ordered to go into the field to work, and was closely watched bythe overseer during the day, and locked up at night. The overseer gaveme a severe whipping on the second day that I was in the field. I hadbeen at home but a short time, when master was able to ride to the city;and on his return, he informed me that he had sold me to Samuel Willi, amerchant tailor. I knew Mr. Willi. I had lived with him three or fourmonths some years before, when he hired me of my master. 

Mr. Willi was not considered by his servants as a very bad man, nor washe the best of masters. I went to my new home, and found my new mistressvery glad to see me. Mr. Willi owned two servants before he purchasedme, --Robert and Charlotte. Robert was an excellent white-washer, andhired his time from his master, paying him one dollar per day, besidestaking care of himself. He was known in the city by the name of BobMusic. Charlotte was an old woman, who attended to the cooking, washing, &c. Mr. Willi was not a wealthy man, and did not feel able to keep manyservants around his house; so he soon decided to hire me out, and as Ihad been accustomed to service in steamboats, he gave me the privilegeof finding such employment. 

I soon secured a situation on board the steamer Otto, Capt. J. B. Hill, which sailed from St. Louis to Independence, Missouri. My former master, Dr. Young, did not let Mr. Willi know that I had run away, or he wouldnot have permitted me to go on board a steamboat. The boat was not quiteready to commence running, and therefore I had to remain with Mr. Willi. But during this time, I had to undergo a trial, for which I was entirelyunprepared. My mother, who had been in jail since her return until thepresent time, was now about being carried to New Orleans, to die on acotton, sugar, or rice plantation!

I had been several times to the jail, but could obtain no interview withher. I ascertained, however, the time the boat in which she was toembark would sail, and as I had not seen mother since her being throwninto prison, I felt anxious for the hour of sailing to come. At last, the day arrived when I was to see her for the first time after ourpainful separation, and, for aught that I knew, for the last time inthis world!

At about ten o'clock in the morning I went on board of the boat, andfound her there in company with fifty or sixty other slaves. She waschained to another woman. On seeing me, she immediately dropped her headupon her heaving bosom. She moved not, neither did she weep. Heremotions were too deep for tears. I approached, threw my arms around herneck, kissed her, and fell upon my knees, begging her forgiveness, for Ithought myself to blame for her sad condition; for if I had notpersuaded her to accompany me, she would not then have been in chains. 

She finally raised her head, looked me in the face, (and such a looknone but an angel can give!) and said, "_My dear son, you are not toblame for my being here. You have done nothing more nor less than yourduty. Do not, I pray you, weep for me. I cannot last long upon a cottonplantation. I feel that my heavenly master will soon call me home, andthen I shall be out of the hands of the slave-holders!_"

I could bear no more--my heart struggled to free itself from the humanform. In a moment she saw Mr. Mansfield coming toward that part of theboat, and she whispered into my ear, "_My child, we must soon part tomeet no more this side of the grave. You have ever said that you wouldnot die a slave; that you would be a freeman. Now try to get yourliberty! You will soon have no one to look after but yourself!_" andjust as she whispered the last sentence into my ear, Mansfield came upto me, and with an oath, said, "Leave here this instant; you have beenthe means of my losing one hundred dollars to get this wench back, "--atthe same time kicking me with a heavy pair of boots. As I left her, shegave one shriek, saying, "God be with you!" It was the last time that Isaw her, and the last word I heard her utter. 

I walked on shore. The bell was tolling. The boat was about to start. Istood with a heavy heart, waiting to see her leave the wharf. As Ithought of my mother, I could but feel that I had lost

 "--the glory of my life, My blessing and my pride! I half forgot the name of slave, When she was by my side. "

CHAPTER XI. 

The love of liberty that had been burning in my bosom, had well nighgone out. I felt as though I was ready to die. The boat moved gentlyfrom the wharf, and while she glided down the river, I realized that mymother was indeed

 "Gone, --gone, --sold and gone, To the rice swamp dank and lone!"

After the boat was out of sight, I returned home; but my thoughts wereso absorbed in what I had witnessed, that I knew not what I was abouthalf of the time. Night came, but it brought no sleep to my eyes. 

In a few days, the boat upon which I was to work being ready, I went onboard to commence. This employment suited me better than living in thecity, and I remained until the close of navigation; though it provedanything but pleasant. The captain was a drunken, profligate, hard-hearted creature, not knowing how to treat himself, or any otherperson. 

The boat, on its second trip, brought down Mr. Walker, the man of whom Ihave spoken in a previous chapter, as hiring my time. He had between oneand two hundred slaves, chained and manacled. Among them was a man thatformerly belonged to my old master's brother, Aaron Young. His name wasSolomon. He was a preacher, and belonged to the same church with hismaster. I was glad to see the old man. He wept like a child when he toldme how he had been sold from his wife and children. 

The boat carried down, while I remained on board, four or five gangs ofslaves. Missouri, though a comparatively new State, is very much engagedin raising slaves to supply the southern market. In a former chapter, Ihave mentioned that I was once in the employ of a slave-trader, ordriver, as he is called at the south. For fear that some may think thatI have misrepresented a slave-driver, I will here give an extract from apaper published in a slaveholding State, Tennessee, called the"Millennial Trumpeter. "

"Droves of negroes, chained together in dozens and scores, andhand-cuffed, have been driven through our country in numbers farsurpassing any previous year, and these vile slave-drivers and dealersare swarming like buzzards around a carrion. Through this county, youcannot pass a few miles in the great roads without having every feelingof humanity insulted and lacerated by this spectacle, nor can you gointo any county or any neighborhood, scarcely, without seeing or hearingof some of these despicable creatures, called negro-drivers. 

"Who is a negro-driver? One whose eyes dwell with delight on laceratedbodies of helpless men, women and children; whose soul feels diabolicalraptures at the chains, and handcuffs, and cart-whips, for inflictingtortures on weeping mothers torn from helpless babes, and on husbandsand wives torn asunder forever!"

Dark and revolting as is the picture here drawn, it is from the pen ofone living in the midst of slavery. But though these men may cant aboutnegro-drivers, and tell what despicable creatures they are, who is it, Iask, that supplies them with the human beings that they are tearingasunder? I answer, as far as I have any knowledge of the State where Icame from, that those who raise slaves for the market are to be foundamong all classes, from Thomas H. Benton down to the lowest politicaldemagogue, who may be able to purchase a woman for the purpose ofraising stock, and from the Doctor of Divinity down to the most humblelay member in the church. 

It was not uncommon in St. Louis to pass by an auction-stand, and beholda woman upon the auction-block, and hear the seller crying out, "_Howmuch is offered for this woman? She is a good cook, good washer, a goodobedient servant. She has got religion!_" Why should this man tell thepurchasers that she has religion? I answer, because in Missouri, and asfar as I have any knowledge of slavery in the other States, thereligious teaching consists in teaching the slave that he must neverstrike a white man; that God made him for a slave; and that, whenwhipped, he must not find fault, --for the Bible says, "He that knowethhis master's will, and doeth it not, shall be beaten with many stripes!"And slaveholders find such religion very profitable to them. 

After leaving the steamer Otto, I resided at home, in Mr. Willi'sfamily, and again began to lay my plans for making my escape fromslavery. The anxiety to be a freeman would not let me rest day or night. I would think of the northern cities that I had heard so much about;--ofCanada, where so many of my acquaintances had found refuge. I woulddream at night that I was in Canada, a freeman, and on waking in themorning, weep to find myself so sadly mistaken. 

 "I would think of Victoria's domain, And in a moment I seemed to be there! But the fear of being taken again, Soon hurried me back to despair. "

Mr. Willi treated me better than Dr. Young ever had; but instead ofmaking me contented and happy, it only rendered me the more miserable, for it enabled me better to appreciate liberty. Mr. Willi was a man wholoved money as most men do, and without looking for an opportunity tosell me, he found one in the offer of Captain Enoch Price, a steamboatowner and commission merchant, living in the city of St. Louis. CaptainPrice tendered seven hundred dollars, which was two hundred more thanMr. Willi had paid. He therefore thought best to accept the offer. I waswanted for a carriage driver, and Mrs. Price was very much pleased withthe captain's bargain. His family consisted besides of one child. He hadthree servants besides myself--one man and two women. 

Mrs. Price was very proud of her servants, always keeping them welldressed, and as soon as I had been purchased, she resolved to have a newcarriage. And soon one was procured, and all preparations were made fora turn-out in grand style, I being the driver. 

One of the female servants was a girl some eighteen or twenty years ofage, named Maria. Mrs. Price was very soon determined to have us united, if she could so arrange matters. She would often urge upon me thenecessity of having a wife, saying that it would be so pleasant for meto take one in the same family! But getting married, while in slavery, was the last of my thoughts; and had I been ever so inclined, I shouldnot have married Maria, as my love had already gone in another quarter. Mrs. Price soon found out that her efforts at this match-making betweenMaria and myself would not prove successful. She also discovered (orthought she had) that I was rather partial to a girl named Eliza, whowas owned by Dr. Mills. This induced her at once to endeavor thepurchase of Eliza, so great was her desire to get me a wife!

Before making the attempt, however, she deemed it best to talk to me alittle upon the subject of love, courtship, and marriage. Accordinglyone afternoon she called me into her room--telling me to take a chairand sit down. I did so, thinking it rather strange, for servants are notvery often asked thus to sit down in the same room with the master ormistress. She said that she had found out that I did not care enoughabout Maria to marry her. I told her that was true. She then asked me ifthere was not a girl in the city that I loved. Well, now, this wascoming into too close quarters with me! People, generally, don't like totell their love stories to everybody that may think fit to ask aboutthem, and it was so with me. But, after blushing awhile and recoveringmyself, I told her that I did not want a wife. She then asked me, if Idid not think something of Eliza. I told her that I did. She then saidthat if I wished to marry Eliza, she would purchase her if she could. 

I gave but little encouragement to this proposition, as I was determinedto make another trial to get my liberty, and I knew that if I shouldhave a wife, I should not be willing to leave her behind; and if Ishould attempt to bring her with me, the chances would be difficult forsuccess. However, Eliza was purchased, and brought into the family. 

CHAPTER XII. 

But the more I thought of the trap laid by Mrs. Price to make mesatisfied with my new home, by getting me a wife, the more I determinednever to marry any woman on earth until I should get my liberty. Butthis secret I was compelled to keep to myself, which placed me in a verycritical position. I must keep upon good terms with Mrs. Price andEliza. I therefore promised Mrs. Price that I would marry Eliza; butsaid that I was not then ready. And I had to keep upon good terms withEliza, for fear that Mrs. Price would find out that I did not intend toget married. 

I have here spoken of marriage, and it is very common among slavesthemselves to talk of it. And it is common for slaves to be married; orat least have the marriage ceremony performed. But there is no suchthing as slaves being lawfully married. There has never yet a caseoccurred where a slave has been tried for bigamy. The man may have asmany women as he wishes, and the women as many men; and the law takes nocognizance of such acts among slaves. And in fact some masters, whenthey have sold the husband from the wife, compel her to take another. 

There lived opposite Captain Price's, Doctor Farrar, well known in St. Louis. He sold a man named Ben, to one of the traders. He also ownedBen's wife, and in a few days he compelled Sally (that was her name) tomarry Peter, another man belonging to him. I asked Sally "why shemarried Peter so soon after Ben was sold. " She said, "because mastermade her do it. "

Mr. John Calvert, who resided near our place, had a woman named Lavinia. She was quite young, and a man to whom she was about to be married wassold, and carried into the country near St. Charles, about twenty milesfrom St. Louis. Mr. Calvert wanted her to get a husband; but she hadresolved not to marry any other man, and she refused. Mr. Calvertwhipped her in such a manner that it was thought she would die. Some ofthe citizens had him arrested, but it was soon hushed up. And that wasthe last of it. The woman did not die, but it would have been the sameif she had. 

Captain Price purchased me in the month of October, and I remained withhim until December, when the family made a voyage to New Orleans, in aboat owned by himself, and named the "Chester. " I served on board, asone of the stewards. On arriving at New Orleans, about the middle of themonth, the boat took in freight for Cincinnati; and it was decided thatthe family should go up the river in her, and what was of more interestto me, I was to accompany them. 

The long looked for opportunity to make my escape from slavery was nearat hand. 

Captain Price had some fears as to the propriety of taking me near afree State, or a place where it was likely I could run away, with aprospect of liberty. He asked me if I had ever been in a free State. "Ohyes, " said I, "I have been in Ohio; my master carried me into that Stateonce, but I never liked a free State. "

It was soon decided that it would be safe to take me with them, andwhat made it more safe, Eliza was on the boat with us, and Mrs. Price, to try me, asked if I thought as much as ever of Eliza. I told her thatEliza was very dear to me indeed, and that nothing but death should partus. It was the same as if we were married. This had the desired effect. The boat left New Orleans, and proceeded up the river. 

I had at different times obtained little sums of money, which I hadreserved for a "rainy day. " I procured some cotton cloth, and made me abag to carry provisions in. The trials of the past were all lost inhopes for the future. The love of liberty, that had been burning in mybosom for years, and had been well nigh extinguished, was nowresuscitated. At night, when all around was peaceful, I would walk thedecks, meditating upon my happy prospects. 

I should have stated, that before leaving St. Louis, I went to an oldman named Frank, a slave, owned by a Mr. Sarpee. This old man was verydistinguished (not only among the slave population, but also the whites)as a fortune-teller. He was about seventy years of age, something oversix feet high, and very slender. Indeed, he was so small around his bodythat it looked as though it was not strong enough to hold up his head. 

Uncle Frank was a very great favorite with the young ladies, who wouldgo to him in great numbers to get their fortunes told. And it wasgenerally believed that he could really penetrate into the mysteries offuturity. Whether true or not, he had the name, and that is about halfof what one needs in this gullible age. I found Uncle Frank seated inthe chimney corner, about ten o'clock at night. As soon as I entered, the old man left his seat. I watched his movement as well as I could bythe dim light of the fire. He soon lit a lamp, and coming up, looked mefull in the face, saying, "Well, my son, you have come to get uncle totell your fortune, have you?" "Yes, " said I. But how the old man shouldknow what I had come for, I could not tell. However, I paid the fee oftwenty-five cents, and he commenced by looking into a gourd, filled withwater. Whether the old man was a prophet, or the son of a prophet, Icannot say; but there is one thing certain, many of his predictions wereverified. 

I am no believer in soothsaying; yet I am sometimes at a loss to knowhow Uncle Frank could tell so accurately what would occur in the future. Among the many things he told was one which was enough to pay me for allthe trouble of hunting him up. It was that I should be free! He furthersaid, that in trying to get my liberty, I would meet with many severetrials. I thought to myself, any fool could tell me that!

The first place in which we landed in a free State was Cairo, a smallvillage at the mouth of the Ohio river. We remained here but a fewhours, when we proceeded to Louisville. After unloading some of thecargo, the boat started on her upward trip. The next day was the firstof January. I had looked forward to New Year's day as the commencementof a new era in the history of my life. I had decided upon leaving thepeculiar institution that day. 

During the last night that I served in slavery, I did not close my eyesa single moment. When not thinking of the future, my mind dwelt on thepast. The love of a dear mother, a dear sister, and three dear brothers, yet living, caused me to shed many tears. If I could only have beenassured of their being dead, I should have felt satisfied; but Iimagined I saw my dear mother in the cotton-field, followed by amerciless taskmaster, and no one to speak a consoling word to her! Ibeheld my dear sister in the hands of a slave-driver, and compelled tosubmit to his cruelty! None but one placed in such a situation can for amoment imagine the intense agony to which these reflections subjectedme. 

CHAPTER XIII. 

At the time for action arrived. The boat landed at a point whichappeared to me the place of all others to start from. I found that itwould be impossible to carry anything with me, but what was upon myperson. I had some provisions, and a single suit of clothes, about halfworn. When the boat was discharging her cargo, and the passengersengaged carrying their baggage on and off shore, I improved theopportunity to convey myself with my little effects on land. Taking up atrunk, I went up the wharf, and was soon out of the crowd. I madedirectly for the woods, where I remained until night knowing well that Icould not travel, even in the State of Ohio, during the day, withoutdanger of being arrested. 

I had long since made up my mind that I would not trust myself in thehands of any man, white or colored. The slave is brought up to look uponevery white man as an enemy to him and his race; and twenty-one years inslavery had taught me that there were traitors, even among coloredpeople. After dark, I emerged from the woods into a narrow path, whichled me into the main travelled road. But I knew not which way to go. Idid not know North from South, East from West. I looked in vain for theNorth Star; a heavy cloud hid it from my view. I walked up and down theroad until near midnight, when the clouds disappeared, and I welcomedthe sight of my friend, --truly the slave's friend, --the North Star!

As soon as I saw it, I knew my course, and before daylight I travelledtwenty or twenty-five miles. It being in the winter, I sufferedintensely from the cold; being without an overcoat, and my other clothesrather thin for the season. I was provided with a tinder-box, so that Icould make up a fire when necessary. And but for this, I shouldcertainly have frozen to death; for I was determined not to go to anyhouse for shelter. I knew of a man belonging to Gen. Ashly, of St. Louis, who had run away near Cincinnati, on the way to Washington, buthad been caught and carried back into slavery; and I felt that a similarfate awaited me, should I be seen by any one. I travelled at night, andlay by during the day. 

On the fourth day, my provisions gave out, and then what to do I couldnot tell. Have something to eat, I must; but how to get it was thequestion! On the first night after my food was gone, I went to a barn onthe road-side, and there found some ears of corn. I took ten or twelveof them, and kept on my journey. During the next day, while in thewoods, I roasted my corn and feasted upon it, thanking God that I was sowell provided for. 

My escape to a land of freedom now appeared certain, and the prospectsof the future occupied a great part of my thoughts. What should be myoccupation, was a subject of much anxiety to me; and the next thing whatshould be my name? I have before stated that my old master, Dr. Young, had no children of his own, but had with him a nephew, the son of hisbrother, Benjamin Young. When this boy was brought to Doctor Young, hisname being William, the same as mine, my mother was ordered to changemine to something else. This, at the time, I thought to be one of themost cruel acts that could be committed upon my rights; and I receivedseveral very severe whippings for telling people that my name wasWilliam, after orders were given to change it. Though young, I was oldenough to place a high appreciation upon my name. It was decided, however, to call me "Sandford, " and this name I was known by, not onlyupon my master's plantation, but up to the time that I made my escape. Iwas sold under the name of Sandford. 

But as soon as the subject came to my mind, I resolved on adopting myold name of William, and let Sandford go by the board, for I alwayshated it. Not because there was anything peculiar in the name; butbecause it had been forced upon me. It is sometimes common at the south, for slaves to take the name of their masters. Some have a legitimateright to do so. But I always detested the idea of being called by thename of either of my masters. And as for my father, I would rather haveadopted the name of "Friday, " and been known as the servant of someRobinson Crusoe, than to have taken his name. So I was not only huntingfor my liberty, but also hunting for a name; though I regarded thelatter as of little consequence, if I could but gain the former. Travelling along the road, I would sometimes speak to myself, soundingmy name over, by way of getting used to it, before I should arrive amongcivilized human beings. On the fifth or sixth day, it rained very fast, and it froze about as fast as it fell, so that my clothes were one glareof ice. I travelled on at night until I became so chilled andbenumbed--the wind blowing into my face--that I found it impossible togo any further, and accordingly took shelter in a barn, where I wasobliged to walk about to keep from freezing. 

I have ever looked upon that night as the most eventful part of myescape from slavery. Nothing but the providence of God, and that oldbarn, saved me from freezing to death. I received a very severe cold, which settled upon my lungs, and from time to time my feet had beenfrost-bitten, so that it was with difficulty I could walk. In thissituation I travelled two days, when I found that I must seek sheltersomewhere, or die. 

The thought of death was nothing frightful to me, compared with that ofbeing caught, and again carried back into slavery. Nothing but theprospect of enjoying liberty could have induced me to undergo suchtrials, for

 "Behind I left the whips and chains, Before me were sweet Freedom's plains!"

This, and this alone, cheered me onward. But I at last resolved to seekprotection from the inclemency of the weather, and therefore I securedmyself behind some logs and brush, intending to wait there until someone should pass by; for I thought it probable that I might see somecolored person, or, if not, some one who was not a slaveholder; for Ihad an idea that I should know a slaveholder as far as I could see him. 

CHAPTER XIV. 

The first person that passed was a man in a buggy-wagon. He looked toogenteel for me to hail him. Very soon, another passed by on horseback. Iattempted speaking to him, but fear made my voice fail me. As he passed, I left my hiding-place, and was approaching the road, when I observed anold man walking towards me, leading a white horse. He had on abroad-brimmed hat and a very long coat, and was evidently walking forexercise. As soon as I saw him, and observed his dress, I thought tomyself, "You are the man that I have been looking for!" Nor was Imistaken. He was the very man!

On approaching me, he asked me, "if I was not a slave. " I looked at himsome time, and then asked him "if he knew of any one who would help me, as I was sick. " He answered that he would; but again asked, if I was nota slave. I told him I was. He then said that I was in a very pro-slaveryneighborhood, and if I would wait until he went home, he would get acovered wagon for me. I promised to remain. He mounted his horse, andwas soon out of sight. 

After he was gone, I meditated whether to wait or not; beingapprehensive that he had gone for some one to arrest me. But I finallyconcluded to remain until he should return; removing some few rods towatch his movements. After a suspense of an hour and a half or more, hereturned with a two horse covered-wagon, such as are usually seen underthe shed of a Quaker meeting-house on Sundays and Thursdays; for the oldman proved to be a Quaker of the George Fox stamp. 

He took me to his house, but it was some time before I could be inducedto enter it; not until the old lady came out, did I venture into thehouse. I thought I saw something in the old lady's cap that told me Iwas not only safe, but welcome, in her house. I was not, however, prepared to receive their hospitalities. The only fault I found withthem was their being too kind. I had never had a white man to treat meas an equal, and the idea of a white lady waiting on me at the table wasstill worse! Though the table was loaded with the good things of thislife, I could not eat. I thought if I could only be allowed theprivilege of eating in the kitchen, I should be more than satisfied!

Finding that I could not eat, the old lady, who was a "Thompsonian, "made me a cup of "composition, " or "number six;" but it was so strongand hot, that I called it "_number seven_" However, I soon found myselfat home in this family. On different occasions, when telling thesefacts, I have been asked how I felt upon finding myself regarded as aman by a white family; especially just having run away from one. Icannot say that I have ever answered the question yet. 

The fact that I was in all probability a freeman, sounded in my earslike a charm. I am satisfied that none but a slave could place such anappreciation upon liberty as I did at that time. I wanted to see motherand sister, that I might tell them "I was free!" I wanted to see myfellow slaves in St. Louis, and let them know that the chains were nolonger upon my limbs. I wanted to see Captain Price, and let him learnfrom my own lips that I was no more a chattel, but a man! I was anxious, too, thus to inform Mrs. Price that she must get another coachman. And Iwanted to see Eliza more than I did either Mr. Or Mrs. Price!

The fact that I was a freeman--could walk, talk, eat and sleep as aman, and no one to stand over me with the blood-clotted cowhide--allthis made me feel that I was not myself. 

The kind friend that had taken me in was named Wells Brown. He was adevoted friend of the slave; but was very old, and not in the enjoymentof good health. After being by the fire awhile, I found that my feet hadbeen very much frozen. I was seized with a fever which threatened toconfine me to my bed. But my Thompsonian friends soon raised me, treating me as kindly as if I had been one of their own children. Iremained with them twelve or fifteen days, during which time they mademe some clothing, and the old gentleman purchased me a pair of boots. 

I found that I was about fifty or sixty miles from Dayton, in the Stateof Ohio, and between one and two hundred miles from Cleaveland, on lakeErie, a place I was desirous of reaching on my way to Canada. This Iknow will sound strangely to the ears of people in foreign lands, but itis nevertheless true. An American citizen was fleeing from a Democratic, Republican, Christian government, to receive protection under themonarchy of Great Britain. While the people of the United States boastof their freedom, they at the same time keep three millions of their owncitizens in chains; and while I am seated here in sight of Bunker HillMonument, writing this narrative, I am a slave, and no law, not even inMassachusetts, can protect me from the hands of the slaveholder!

Before leaving this good Quaker friend, he inquired what my name wasbesides William. I told him that I had no other name. "Well, " said he, "thee must have another name. Since thee has got out of slavery, theehas become a man, and men always have two names. "

I told him that he was the first man to extend the hand of friendship tome, and I would give him the privilege of naming me. 

"If I name thee, " said he, "I shall call thee Wells Brown, aftermyself. "

"But, " said I, "I am not willing to lose my name of William. As it wastaken from me once against my will, I am not willing to part with itagain upon any terms. "

"Then, " said he, "I will call thee William Wells Brown. "

"So be it, " said I; and I have been known by that name ever since Ileft the house of my first white friend, Wells Brown. 

After giving me some little change, I again started for Canada. In fourdays I reached a public house, and went in to warm myself. I therelearned that some fugitive slaves had just passed through the place. Themen in the bar-room were talking about it, and I thought that it musthave been myself they referred to, and I was therefore afraid to start, fearing they would seize me; but I finally mustered courage enough, andtook my leave. As soon as I was out of sight, I went into the woods, andremained there until night, when I again regained the road, andtravelled on until the next day. 

Not having had any food for nearly two days, I was faint with hunger, and was in a dilemma what to do, as the little cash supplied me by myadopted father, and which had contributed to my comfort, was now allgone. I however concluded to go to a farm-house, and ask for somethingto eat. On approaching the door of the first one presenting itself, Iknocked, and was soon met by a man who asked me what I wanted. I toldhim that I would like something to eat. He asked where I was from, andwhere I was going. I replied that I had come some way, and was going toCleaveland. 

After hesitating a moment or two, he told me that he could give menothing to eat, adding, "that if I would work, I could get something toeat. "

I felt bad, being thus refused something to sustain nature, but did notdare tell him that I was a slave. 

Just as I was leaving the door, with a heavy heart, a woman, who provedto be the wife of this gentleman, came to the door, and asked herhusband what I wanted? He did not seem inclined to inform her. Shetherefore asked me herself. I told her that I had asked for something toeat. After a few other questions, she told me to come in, and that shewould give me something to eat. 

I walked up to the door, but the husband remained in the passage, as ifunwilling to let me enter. 

She asked him two or three times to get out of the way, and let me in. But as he did not move, she pushed him on one side, bidding me walk in!I was never before so glad to see a woman push a man aside! Ever sincethat act, I have been in favor of "woman's rights!"

After giving me as much food as I could eat, she presented me with tencents, all the money then at her disposal, accompanied with a note to afriend, a few miles further on the road. Thanking this angel of mercyfrom an overflowing heart, I pushed on my way, and in three days arrivedat Cleaveland, Ohio. 

Being an entire stranger in this place, it was difficult for me to findwhere to stop. I had no money, and the lake being frozen, I saw that Imust remain until the opening of navigation, or go to Canada by way ofBuffalo. But believing myself to be somewhat out of danger, I secured anengagement at the Mansion House, as a table waiter, in payment for myboard. The proprietor, however, whose name was E. M. Segur, in a shorttime, hired me for twelve dollars per month; on which terms I remaineduntil spring, when I found good employment on board a lake steamboat. 

I purchased some books, and at leisure moments perused them withconsiderable advantage to myself. While at Cleaveland, I saw, for thefirst time, an anti-slavery newspaper. It was the "Genius of UniversalEmancipation" published by Benjamin Lundy, and though I had no home, Isubscribed for the paper. It was my great desire, being out of slaverymyself, to do what I could for the emancipation of my brethren yet inchains, and while on Lake Erie, I found many opportunities of "helpingtheir cause along. "

It is well known, that a great number of fugitives make their escape toCanada, by way of Cleaveland; and while on the lake, I always madearrangement to carry them on the boat to Buffalo or Detroit, and thuseffect their escape to the "promised land. " The friends of the slave, knowing that I would transport them without charge, never failed to havea delegation when the boat arrived at Cleaveland. I have sometimes hadfour or five on board, at one time. 

In the year 1842, I conveyed, from the first of May to the first ofDecember, sixty-nine fugitives over Lake Erie to Canada. In 1843, Ivisited Maiden, in Upper Canada, and counted seventeen, in that smallvillage, who owed their escape to my humble efforts. 

Soon after coming North, I subscribed for the Liberator, edited by thatchampion of freedom, William Lloyd Garrison. I labored a season topromote the temperance cause among the colored people, but for the lastthree years, have been pleading for the victims of American slavery. 

William Wells Brown. 

Boston, Mass. , June, 1847.