 | Incidents in the life of a slave girl |  |
XXXVI.
THE HAIRBREADTH ESCAPE.
After we returned to New York, I took the earliest
opportunity to go and see Ellen. I asked to have her
called down stairs; for I supposed Mrs. Hobbs's southern
brother might still be there, and I was desirous to
avoid seeing him, if possible. But Mrs. Hobbs came
to the kitchen, and insisted on my going up stairs.
“My brother wants to see you,” said she, “and he is
sorry you seem to shun him. He knows you are living
in New York. He told me to say to you that he owes
thanks to good old aunt Martha for too many little
acts of kindness for him to be base enough to betray
her grandchild.”
This Mr. Thorne had become poor and reckless long
before he left the south, and such persons had much
rather go to one of the faithful old slaves to borrow a
dollar, or get a good dinner, than to go to one whom
they consider an equal. It was such acts of kindness
as these for which he professed to feel grateful to my
grandmother. I wished he had kept at a distance, but
as he was here, and knew where I was, I concluded
there was nothing to be gained by trying to avoid him;
on the contrary, it might be the means of exciting his
ill will. I followed his sister up stairs. He met me
in a very friendly manner, congratulated me on my
escape from slavery, and hoped I had a good place,
where I felt happy.
I continued to visit Ellen as often as I could. She,
good thoughtful child, never forgot my hazardous situation,
but always kept a vigilant lookout for my safety.
She never made any complaint about her own inconveniences
and troubles; but a mother's observing eye
easily perceived that she was not happy. On the occasion
of one of my visits I found her unusually
serious. When I asked her what was the matter, she
said nothing was the matter. But I insisted upon
knowing what made her look so very grave. Finally,
I ascertained that she felt troubled about the dissipation
that was continually going on in the house. She
was sent to the store very often for rum and brandy,
and she felt ashamed to ask for it so often; and Mr.
Hobbs and Mr. Thorne drank a great deal, and their
hands trembled so that they had to call her to pour out
the liquor for them. “But for all that,” said she, “Mr.
Hobbs is good to me, and I can't help liking him. I
feel sorry for him.” I tried to comfort her, by telling
her that I had laid up a hundred dollars, and that
before long I hoped to be able to give her and Benjamin
a home, and send them to school. She was always
desirous not to add to my troubles more than she could
help, and I did not discover till years afterwards that
Mr. Thorne's intemperance was not the only annoy
ance she suffered from him. Though he professed too
much gratitude to my grandmother to injure any of
her descendants, he had poured vile language into the
ears of her innocent great-grandchild.
I usually went to Brooklyn to spend Sunday afternoon.
One Sunday, I found Ellen anxiously waiting
for me near the house. “O, mother,” said she, “I've
Thorne has written to tell Dr. Flint where you are.
Make haste and come in. Mrs. Hobbs will tell you all
about it!”
The story was soon told. While the children were
playing in the grape-vine arbor, the day before, Mr.
Thorne came out with a letter in his hand, which he
tore up and scattered about. Ellen was sweeping the
yard at the time, and having her mind full of suspicions
of him, she picked up the pieces and carried them
to the children, saying, “I wonder who Mr. Thorne has
been writing to.”
“I'm sure I don't know, and don't care,” replied the
oldest of the children; “and I don't see how it concerns
you.”
“But it does concern me,” replied Ellen; “for I'm
afraid he's been writing to the south about my mother.”
The laughed at her, and called her a silly thing,
but good-naturedly put the fragments of writing together,
in order to read them to her. They were no
sooner arranged, than the little girl exclaimed, “I declare,
Ellen, I believe you are right.”
The contents of Mr. Thorne's letter, as nearly as I
can remember, were as follows: “I have seen your
slave, Linda, and conversed with her. She can be
taken very easily, if you manage prudently. There
are enough of us here to swear to her identity as your
property. I am a patriot, a lover of my country, and
I do this as an act of justice to the laws.” He concluded
by informing the doctor of the street and number
where I lived. The children carried the pieces to
Mrs. Hobbs, who immediately went to her brother's
The servants said they saw him go out with a letter in
his hand, and they supposed he had gone to the post
office. The natural inference was, that he had sent
to Dr. Flint a copy of those fragments. When he
returned, his sister accused him of it, and he did not
deny the charge. He went immediately to his room,
and the next morning he was missing. He had gone
over to New York, before any of the family were astir.
It was evident that I had no time to lose; and I
hastened back to the city with a heavy heart. Again
I was to be torn from a comfortable home, and all my
plans for the welfare of my children were to be frustrated
by that demon Slavery! I now regretted that
I never told Mrs. Bruce my story. I had not concealed
it merely on account of being a fugitive; that
would have made her anxious, but it would have
excited sympathy in her kind heart. I valued her
good opinion, and I was afraid of losing it, if I told
her all the particulars of my sad story. But now I
felt that it was necessary for her to know how I was
situated. I had once left her abruptly, without explaining
the reason, and it would not be proper to do
it again. I went home resolved to tell her in the
morning. But the sadness of my face attracted her
attention, and, in answer to her kind inquiries, I poured
out my full heart to her, before bed time. She listened
with true womanly sympathy, and told me she would do
all she could to protect me. How my heart blessed her!
Early the next morning, Judge Vanderpool and
Lawyer Hopper were consulted. They said I had better
leave the city at once, as the risk would be great
carriage to the house of one of her friends, where she
assured me I should be safe until my brother could
arrive, which would be in a few days. In the interval
my thoughts were much occupied with Ellen. She
was mine by birth, and she was also mine by Southern
law, since my grandmother held the bill of sale that
made her so. I did not feel that she was safe unless
I had her with me. Mrs. Hobbs, who felt badly about
her brother's treachery, yielded to my entreaties, on
condition that she should return in ten days. I avoided
making any promise. She came to me clad in very
thin garments, all outgrown, and with a school satchel
on her arm, containing a few articles. It was late in
October, and I knew the child must suffer; and not
daring to go out in the streets to purchase any thing,
I took off my own flannel skirt and converted it into
one for her. Kind Mrs. Bruce came to bid me good
by, and when she saw that I had taken off my clothing
for my child, the tears came to her eyes. She said,
“Wait for me, Linda,” and went out. She soon returned
with a nice warm shawl and hood for Ellen.
Truly, of such souls as hers are the kingdom of heaven.
My brother reached New York on Wednesday. Lawyer
Hopper advised us to go to Boston by the Stonington
route, as there was less Southern travel in that
direction. Mrs. Bruce directed her servants to tell all
inquirers that I formerly lived there, but had gone from
the city.
We reached the steamboat Rhode Island in safety.
That boat employed colored hands, but I knew that
colored passengers were not admitted to the cabin. I
only on account of exposure to the night air, but also
to avoid observation. Lawyer Hopper was waiting
on board for us. He spoke to the stewardess, and
asked, as a particular favor, that she would treat us
well. He said to me, “Go and speak to the captain
yourself by and by. Take your little girl with you,
and I am sure that he will not let her sleep on deck.”
With these kind words and a shake of the hand he
departed.
The boat was soon on her way, bearing me rapidly
from the friendly home where I had hoped to find
security and rest. My brother had left me to purchase
the tickets, thinking that I might have better success
than he would. When the stewardess came to me, I
paid what she asked, and she gave me three tickets
with clipped corners. In the most unsophisticated
manner I said, “You have made a mistake; I asked
you for cabin tickets. I cannot possibly consent to sleep
on deck with my little daughter.” She assured me
there was no mistake. She said on some of the routes
colored people were allowed to sleep in the cabin, but
not on this route, which was much travelled by the
wealthy. I asked her to show me to the captain's
office, and she said she would after tea. When the
time came, I took Ellen by the hand and went to the
captain, politely requesting him to change our tickets,
as we should be very uncomfortable on deck. He said
it was contrary to their custom, but he would see that
we had berths below; he would also try to obtain comfortable
seats for us in the cars; of that he was not
certain, but he would speak to the conductor about it,
to the ladies' cabin. He came afterwards and told
me that the conductor of the cars was on board, that
he had spoken to him, and he had promised to take
care of us. I was very much surprised at receiving
so much kindness. I don't know whether the pleasing
face of my little girl had won his heart, or whether the
stewardess inferred from Lawyer Hopper's manner that I
was a fugitive, and had pleaded with him in my behalf.
When the boat arrived at Stonington, the conductor
kept his promise, and showed us to seats in the first
car, nearest the engine. He asked us to take seats
next the door, but as he passed through, we ventured
to move on toward the other end of the car. No incivility
was offered us, and we reached Boston in safety.
The day after my arrival was one of the happiest
of my life. I felt as if I was beyond the reach of
the bloodhounds; and, for the first time during
many years, I had both my children together with me.
They greatly enjoyed their reunion, and laughed and
chatted merrily. I watched them with a swelling
heart. Their every motion delighted me.
I could not feel safe in New York, and I accepted
the offer of a friend, that we should share expenses
and keep house together. I represented to Mrs.
Hobbs that Ellen must have some schooling, and must
remain with me for that purpose. She felt ashamed
of being unable to read or spell at her age, so instead
of sending her to school with Benny, I instructed her
myself till she was fitted to enter an intermediate school.
The winter passed pleasantly, while I was busy with
my needle, and my children with their books.
| Incidents in the life of a slave girl | |