My aunt was taken out of gaol and sent home to the doctor’s house; the children and myself were left in. The old man came to have a little talk with me about my sister.
“Well, John, I have not got Harriet, but I will have her yet. Don’t you know where she is?”
“How can I know, sir? I have been in gaol ever since my sister left you. Mr. G——was here while you were away, sir, and said that he wanted to buy me.”
“Buy you! I don’t want to sell you.”
“You told me when you put me here that you did.”
“Yes, but not if you will go back to the shop and behave yourself. Mr. G——has not got money enough to buy you.”
“I do not know how to behave differently from what I have done.”
“Your behaviour will do; but I am afraid you are going to run away from me.”
“I have not said anything about running away from you, sir.”
“I know that; but your sister is gone, and you will be going next.”
Up to this time I had heard nothing of my sister; but I felt sure that she was with her friends in Edenton.
CHAPTER III
My Uncle’s Troubles—My Further Experience of the Doctor, and Our Parting
WHILE THE EVENTS DESCRIBED in the foregoing chapter were transpiring, my uncle-in-law Stephen returned from sea. His master, Mr. B——, was owner of the vessel in which he sailed; and, although he had had several chances to make his escape from slavery, yet he had returned on every voyage. The doctor, who owned my aunt, forbad his going to see her, although they had lived together for twenty years, and had never been known to quarrel. It was most cruel that they should be separated, not for their own, but for another’s acts. The doctor was inexorable; they were strictly interdicted from seeing each other. The only tie that bound my uncle to slavery was his wife, to whom he was truly attached. When their sacred union—a union holy in the sight of God, however desecrated by wicked men—was broken, he would not longer submit to the yoke. He took advantage of his next voyage to release himself from it, and he returned no more. His wife was dead to him—ay, worse than dead. “That which God hath joined together, let no man put asunder,” saith those Scriptures which the slaveholder professes to believe, but which he blasphemes day by day and hour by hour.
At the doctor’s last visit to the jail, he described to me the wretchedness of the free people of colour in New York, and stated that they had not the comforts of his slaves, and how much better off we were than they. To this I said nothing. My mind was fully made up, that I must, in order to effect my escape, hide as much as possible my hatred to slavery, and affect a respect to my master, whoever he might be. The doctor and myself knew each other too well for me to hope to get away from him. I must change owners in order to do that. Secondly, I had made up my mind that, let the condition of the coloured people of New York be what it might, I would rather die a free man than live a slave. The doctor evidently did not want to sell me, neither did he want to run the risk of losing me. Not that he had any particular regard for me, but he could not replace me for the same money that a slave-trader would give for me.
Before he left the jail, he told me that he did not want to keep me in jail any longer, and would let me out at any time when I would get my uncle Mark to be security that I would not run away from him. When leaving, he told me to send for my uncle, and see if he would not do it for me. To all this I was dumb. I was in no particular hurry to get out of jail. I wanted a little time for serious reflection, and this was the only place where I could get an opportunity for it.
A few days passed, and he heard nothing from me. He saw my uncle, and told him that I wanted to see him at the jail. He accordingly came, and asked me if I wished him to become my security. I promptly told him no; that I wanted my liberty; that I would make good the first opportunity to secure it; that he might do as he pleased; but, God being my helper, I would die a free man. This satisfied my uncle at once, that he might as well take the money out of his pocket and pay for me as to become my security; and he thought, if I could get a chance to make my escape without bringing any expense on him, so much the better. Here we parted. The old doctor waited for an answer, but got none, which satisfied him that I no longer had a desire to make his shop my home.
There were two or three slaveholders in the town, that would give him more for me than he could get from a trader, but he would not sell me to any one in the town. Mr. S——, who afterwards bought me, came to the jail, and asked me if I would live with him if he bought me. I told him that I would; but the question was not asked how long.
I had been here just two months when Mr. S——1 got a negro trader to buy the two children for my grandmother and me for himself. The doctor at first tried to bind the trader not to sell me to any one in the State; but this he would not agree to, saying that he sold his slaves wherever he could get the most for them; he finally agreed to take me out of town in irons, but to sell me the first chance he could get. The old man did not think that he had bargained for me before I was sold. This important part of the business being settled, we were sold, the two children for 500 dollars, I believe, and I for 900 dollars. The blacksmith’s tools, handcuffs, and chain were all in readiness at the jail. The chain was thirty or forty feet long, with handcuffs every two or three feet. The slaves were handcuffed right and left on each side of the chain. In the gang there was one who was free by birth. He was born not more than fifty miles from Edenton. He had been put in jail here for some trifling offence; not being able to pay the fine, he was sold for six months or a year to William R——, a planter, who was so cruel to him that he ran away from him. He was caught, and, after being flogged, was put in irons and set to work. He attempted to cut the irons off, and being caught in the act, was sent to jail, and finally sold to a trader. I saw the irons that he had been made to work in; they were fetters for the ankles, weighing from fifteen to twenty pounds in weight.
Now we were all snugly chained up, the children in the cart, and the women walking behind; friends weeping, and taking a farewell shake of the hand—wives of their husbands, and parents of their children. I went with the gang as far as Mr. J. B. S—’s, the man that had my uncle taken in New York. Here the cart was stopped and the blacksmith’s tools taken out, and Mr. L——began to hammer away at my irons. When they were off, he told me to take the children and go home to Mr. S——; the children went to my grandmother, and I to Mr. S——, who had purchased me for a body servant; but, knowing the temper of the doctor, who would be angry at being outwitted, he sent me to his plantation, where I stopped for three months. During that time I was often in town of an evening to see my grandmother; and on two occasions he tried to trap me. What he would have done to me I know not; but up to the day that I left North Carolina, I never dared to trust myself in his power. Again and again he searched my grandmother’s house for my sister, and at length he put my uncle Mark in jail. After a few days he was taken before the magistrate. The doctor could prove nothing against him, and yet the magistrate made my uncle pay the jail fees. Had my grandmother been destitute of friends, as many of the coloured people in the Slave States are, doubtless the doctor would have tried to extort from my uncle my sister’s hiding-place. It was for this purpose he wanted to get hold of me, for, with oaths of the most dreadful kind, he told me he would butcher me. I had seen too much of his cruelty to doubt his purpose.
CHAPTER IV
My New Master’s Plantation—My Medical Practice Among the Slaves—My Sister’s Hiding-Place
DURING THE THREE MONTHS that I was on the plantation, my master changed overseers. The last one was a member of a Christian church. He was particularly fond of two things, namely, singing hymns and flogging slaves; but he had been told to spare me from the lash. I could see that it went very much against his wishes to do so. Soon after this overseer came on the plantation, my master took me into town to live with him. He had one brother and a sister, who were both subject to fits, returning about every four week
s. When his brother Dr. M. E. S——1 was sick with them, I stopped by him for a few days, until the illness was over. His sister died soon after I went to live with him. My work had never been very hard, neither had I known, as many do, the want of food; and as for the lash, from a boy I had declared that I would never carry its stripes upon my back. It is true my condition was much bettered with my new master; but I was happier only as I could see my chance for escape clearer. At length I grew sick of myself in acting the deceitful part of a slave, and pretending love and friendship where I had none. Unpleasant as it was thus to act, yet, under the circumstances in which I was placed, I feel that I have done no wrong in so doing; I did everything that I could to please my master, who treated me with as much kindness as I could expect from any one to whom I was a slave.
Having been so long with Dr. N——, my master thought me quite capable of visiting the sick slaves on the plantation. This part of my work caused the overseer much unpleasantness; he would sometimes want to give them oil, or something of the kind, saying they were not sick; at other times he would say they were well enough to go to work, and if they were too sick to work, they were too sick to eat. Knowing that he would not strike me for having my own way in what I was sent there for—to see if they were sick and give them what they needed—I took great pleasure in differing with him on all occasions when I thought my patient dangerously ill. My judgment in regard to such diseases as are most common on a plantation was considered very good for one of my age; so much so, that a young planter who was studying medicine at the time, offered my master one thousand five hundred dollars for me. The way I came to know this was thus: he asked me one day if I wanted to be sold. This woke up a little of the old feeling, and I had almost forgotten myself for a minute. “No, sir,” I said, “I am not anxious to be sold, but I know I have got to serve some one.” Here he made me a promise which I shall never forget, though it was not consoling to me. He said, “You shall not serve any one after me: I have been offered a very handsome price for you; but I don’t want to sell you.” True, I was glad to hear him say that I should serve no one after him; this required a little consideration; he was but a few years older than me, and to wait for him to die looked to me too much like giving a man who was in want of his daily bread a cheque on the bank to be paid when he is dead. To have prayed for his death would have been wrong; to have killed him would have been worse; so, finally, I concluded to let him live as long as the Lord was willing he should, and I would get off as soon as possible. My pride would not allow me to let a man feed and clothe me for nothing; I would work the ends of my fingers off first.
I have said nothing about Mr. S——’s plantation slaves; I have only spoken of his treatment to me. I am willing to acknowledge kindness, even in a slaveholder, wherever I have seen it; but had he treated all of his slaves as he treated me, the probability is that they would have been of as little value to him as I was. Some may try to make out of this a case of ingratitude; but I do not feel myself under the slightest obligation to any one who holds me against my will, though he starved himself to feast me. Doubtless he meant to do me a good turn; but he put it off too far. I appreciated his kindness, and endeavoured to be as useful as I could.
At this time my condition was so much better than my sister’s, that I had almost ceased to speak of leaving in the presence of my grandmother; for there is an inexpressible feeling in the breast of a woman who has lost child after child, whether it has been taken by force or by the hand of death, that makes her cling with tighter grasp to the last one. No doubt many of my readers can picture to themselves the force of the prayers and tears of a pious mother under such trials. My uncle Joseph was gone, she knew not where, and my sister was so closely pursued that they were obliged to hide her in the house between the roof and the ceiling. They are now beyond the reach of the slave power, or I would not dare to tell how this was done.
My grandmother’s house had seven rooms—two upper rooms, and five on the lower floor: on the west side there was a piazza. On the east side there were two rooms, with a lobby leading to the centre of the house. The room on the left on entering the lobby was used as a store-room; the ceiling of this room was of boards, the roof was shingled; the space between the roof and ceiling was from three and a half to four feet in height, running off to a point. My uncle made a cupboard in one corner of this room, with the top attached to the ceiling. The part of the board that covered the top of the cupboard was cut and made into a trap-door; the whole of it was so small and neatly done that no one would have believed it to be what it was—the entrance to her hiding-place. Everything that she received was put in that little cupboard. One of the upper rooms was lathed and plastered; a hole was broken in the wall, through which she could speak to my uncle or grandmother; and, to prevent her losing the use of her limbs, the windows were sometimes closed that she might come down and walk about the room. When she was sick, I visited her, and gave her such medicines as she needed. After my uncle-in-law left, Uncle Mark knew of no one in whom to confide; he was suspected by the doctor, and narrowly watched wherever he went; and although he could hear nothing of her, he somehow seemed to think that she had not made her escape. During the short time that my sister was on the plantation, she saw one of the women so cruelly whipped that she died in a few days: it was done by James N——, the doctor’s son. These are called isolated cases; but we shall never know the wrongs that have been perpetrated in the slave states of America, until the oppressor and the oppressed shall stand before the Judge of all the world. The doctor’s wife was as anxious as himself to get my sister again, and made promises of handsome presents to the slaves if they would try to find out where she was, but to no effect. She remained in that strange place of concealment six years and eleven months before she could get away!
CHAPTER V
My Master Goes to Washington as Member of Congress—He Is Engaged to Be Married-Wedding Trip to Chicago—Canada—New York—My Escape from Slavery
THE LATTER END OF the third year after I was sold, my master was elected Member of Congress.1 I was ordered to get ready for Washington. We were not many days on the way to this place, which I so much wanted to see. It is a very lively place during the Session, and much enjoyed by the slaves, their privileges being greatly extended. They get up balls and parties, and seem to be as happy as their masters. I have had the pleasure of meeting some of these slaves in the Northern States, with whom I have danced, whose happiness, like mine, ended with the ball.
I could tell many things I observed of the life of members of Congress when at Washington, but I refrain from mentioning more than one or two customs of social life.
I will say it is twelve o‘clock. The ladies have taken breakfast. A visitor comes and rings the door-bell, and you, on answering it, tell her that the mistress is not in; the reply most invariably is, “Go and tell her who it is, and she will be in.” Just as well say, “Go and tell her she has lied, not knowing who has called to see her.” The same is the case of the gentlemen. Here is a bill before the House, the merits and demerits of which they have spent weeks in discussing; it is now to be voted on at such an hour. The sergeant-at-arms is sent out in search of the absent members; some of them are having a little game of cards—could not think of waiting until after four o’clock; the pay is just the same for playing cards as though they were making laws, only you must lie a little when the sergeant-at-arms calls, and say that you are not in. I could not bear this system of lying. I avoided answering these calls whenever I could.
After my master had been there a short time, he went to board with Mrs. P——, who had two young nieces here, to one of whom he was soon engaged to be married.2 As good luck would have it, this young lady had a sister living in Chicago, and no place would suit her like that to get married in. I admired her taste much. I wanted to go there too. My master could not do otherwise than give his consent to go there with her. The next question to be settled was about taking me with him into a free state. Near the ti
me for him to leave, he told me that he intended to marry. I was pleased at this, and anxious to know who the fortunate lady might be. He did not hesitate to tell me what he intended to do, stating at the same time that he would take me with him if I would not leave him. “Sir,” said I, “I never thought that you suspected me of wanting to leave you.”
“I do not suspect you, John. Some of the members of the House have tried to make me believe that you would run away if I took you with me. Well, get my things all ready; we are to leave on the first day of next week; I will try you, any how.”
Everything was ready, and the hoped-for time came. He took his intended, and off we started for the West. When we were taking the boat at Baltimore for Philadelphia, he came up to me and said, “Call me Mr. Sawyer; and if anybody asks you who you are, and where you are going, tell them that you are a free man, and hired by me.”
We stopped two or three days at the Niagara Falls; from thence we went to Buffalo, and took the boat for Chicago; Mr. Sawyer had been here but a few days before he was taken sick. In five weeks from the time of his arrival here, he was married and ready to leave for home. On our return, we went into Canada. Here I wanted to leave him, but there was my sister and a friend of mine at home in slavery; I had succeeded in getting papers that might have been of great value to my friend. I had tried, but could not get anything to answer my purpose. I tried to get a seaman’s protection from the English Custom-house, but could not without swearing to a lie, which I did not feel disposed to do.
We left here for New York, where we stopped three or four days. I went to see some of my old friends from home, who I knew were living there. I told them that I wanted their advice. They knew me, they knew my master, and they knew my friends also. “Now tell me my duty,” said I. The answer was a very natural one, “Look out for yourself first.” I weighed the matter in my mind, and found the balance in favour of stopping. If I returned along with my master, I could do my sister no good, and could see no further chance of my own escape. I then set myself to work to get my clothes out of the Astor House Hotel, where we were stopping;3 I brought them out in small parcels, as if to be washed. This job being done, the next thing was to get my trunk to put them in. I went to Mr. Johnson’s shop, which was in sight of the Astor House Hotel, and told him that I wanted to get my trunk repaired. The next morning I took my trunk in my hand with me: when I went down, whom should I see at the foot of the steps but Mr. Sawyer? I walked up to him, and showed him a rip in the top of the trunk, opening it at the same time that he might see that I was not running off. He told me that I could change it, or get a new one if I liked. I thanked him, and told him we were very near home now, and with a little repair the old one would do. At this we parted. I got a friend to call and get my trunk, and pack up my things for me, that I might be able to get them at any minute. Mr. Sawyer told me to get everything of his in, and be ready to leave for home the next day. I went to all the places where I had carried anything of his, and where they were not done, I got their cards and left word for them to be ready by the next morning. What I had got were packed in his trunk; what I had not been able to get, there were the cards for them in his room. They dine at the Astor at three o‘clock; they leave the room at four o’clock; at half-past four o’clock I was to be on board the boat for Providence. Being unable to write myself at that time, and unwilling to leave him in suspense, I got a friend to write as follows:—