Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl (38 page)

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

T
HE LATTER END OF the third year after I was sold, my master was elected Member of Congress.
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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.
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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 time 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;
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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:—

“Sir—I have left you, not to return; when I have got settled, I will give you further satisfaction. No longer yours, JOHN S. JACOB.”

This note was to be put into the post-office in time for him to get it the next morning. I waited on him and his wife at dinner. As the town clock struck four, I left the room. I then went through to New Bedford, where I stopped for a few months.

Thank God! I am now out of their reach; the old doctor is dead; I can forgive him for what he did do, and would have done if he could. The lawyer I have quite a friendly feeling for, and would be pleased to meet him as a countryman and a brother; but not as a master.

CHAPTER VI

Sensations of Freedom—Self-Education—A Whaling voyage—I Meet My Sister, and Hear from Her About My Friends at Edenton—The Fugitive Slave Bill

O
N ARRIVING AT New Bedford, I was introduced to Mr. William P——, a very fatherly old man, who had been a slave in Alexandria. For the first week or so I could not realize the great transformation from a chattel slave to a man; it seemed to me like a dream; but I soon began to feel my responsibility, and the necessity of mental improvement. The first thing, therefore, that I strove to do was to raise myself above the level of the beast, where slavery had left me, and fit myself for the society of man. I first tried this in New Bedford by working in the day and going to school at night. Sometimes my business would be such that I could not attend evening schools; so I thought the better plan would be to get such books as I should want, and go a voyage to sea. I accordingly shipped on board the “Frances Henrietta,” of New Bedford. This was a whaling voyage; but I will not trouble you with any fishing stories. I will make it short. After being absent three years and a half, we returned home with a full ship, 1700 barrels of sperm oil and 1400 of whale oil.

I had made the best possible use of my leisure hours on board, and kept the object that drove me from my friends and my home before me when on shore. I had promised myself, if what money I had coming to me would be an inducement to any one to bring my sister off from the south, that I would have her; but there was better news than that, in the bosom of an old friend, waiting to be delivered. The ship dropped her anchor, and the shore boats came off with friends of different persons on board, among whom was R. P——. He had scarcely spoken to me before he began to tell me about my sister; her coming to New Bedford in search of me, and her going back to New York, where, he told me, I should find her. This news was to me quite unexpected. I said, if my sister was free from her oppressor, I was a happy man. I hurried on shore, drew some money of the owners, and made my way to New York. I found my sister living with a family as nurse at the Astor House. At first she did not look natural to me; but how should she look natural, after having been shut out from the light of heaven for six years and eleven months! I did not wish to know what her sufferings were, while living in her place of concealment. The change that it had made in her was enough to make one’s soul cry out against this curse of curses, that has so long trampled humanity in the dust.

After she had recovered a little from the surprise of seeing me, I began to speak of home. “Oh, brother,” she said, “grandmother was so disappointed in your stopping behind. Mr. S——had written for them to make ready his house for his reception on such a day; grandmother got the news of it, and invited some of your old friends to come and spend the evening with you. Supper was all ready, and our ears were all intent to catch the first blast of the stage horn, when Uncle Mark left the room to go and meet you. The coach drove up to the tavern door, and the passengers had all got out, when Dr. W——asked Mr. S——what had become of you. He said the abolitionists had got you away from him in New York. When Uncle Mark returned, grandmother looked for awhile, and then asked, ‘Where is my child?’ ‘He is gone, mother; he left Mr. S———in New York.’

“When she heard that you were gone, she wept like a child. Aunt Sue Bent was there, and on seeing grandmother’s tears, said to her: ‘Molly, my child, this is no time for crying. Dry up those tears, fall upon your knees, and thank God that one more has made his escape from the house of bondage. I came here to see him, but I am glad he is not here. God bless the boy, and keep him from all harm.’

“This (continued my sister) increased my anxiety, and caused me to adopt new plans for my escape. I wrote a letter to the doctor, asking him if he would sell me to my grandmother. It was sent to New York, and there mailed for Edenton. The letter was received by the doctor, and answered by his son Caspar. He could now no longer doubt that I was gone, and resorted to a cunningly-devised artifice to bring me back. Part of his son’s letter ran as follows:—‘Harriet, we are all glad to hear from you; and let me assure you, if our family ever did entertain anything different from the most friendly feelings for you, they exist no longer. We want to see you once more, with your old friends around you, made happy in your own home. We cannot sell you to your grandmother; the community would object to your returning to live in a state of freedom. Harriet, doubtless before this you have heard of the death of your aunt Betty. In her life she taught us how to live, and in her death she taught us how to die.’

“From that letter, my uncle saw that escape was my only hope, and that there was no time like the present for action. While everybody believed that I was in New York was the best time to get there. He accordingly made arrangements with the captain of a vessel running between New York and Edenton, for my passage to the former port.

“I had been here but a short time, when some of my friends sent for me to acquaint me of my danger. Mrs. T——gave me a letter that Mr. T——had received from Dr. N——. In that letter he said he wanted to catch me, to make an example of, for the good of the institution of slavery. But, brother, I have now fallen into new hands. Mary Matilda N——is married to a northern man.
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He, too, is trying to find out where I am stopping in New York. I know not where to go, nor what to do.”