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Robert W. Woodruff
Library
Gift of
Randall K. Burkett
EMORY UNIVERSr
Special Collections & Archil-








Copyrighted by
Jas. H. W. Howaed,
1886.
tlectrotyped by Edwin K. Meyers.


CONTENTS.
L The Maxwell Family, 5
II. Another Family, . 15
III. The Bargain, 28
IV. The Wedding, 47
V. A Bad Start, . 52
VI. The Escape, .61
VII. Attacked, 73
VIII. Two Happy Fathers, ....... 84
IX. A Novel Stake. 95
X. The Wife's Return, 104
XI. The Separation, ...... Ill
XII. Another Class of Slaves, .... 124
XIII. The Fugitives, 134
XIV. Pupil and Teacher, 146
XV. The Judge's Sister, 171
XVI. A Mother's Sacrifice, 200
XVIL The Teacher and Pupil Cross the
Line, 221
XVIII. William's Strike for Freedom, . . 240
XIX. United in Freedom, 265





PREFACE.
In presenting this, my first book, to the public, I
crave indulgence for whatever errors it may contain.
The incidents related are true, while the adventures
of the fugitives, in their escape from slavery, are ac¬
tual facts related by persons well known to me, some
of them closely related, and for whose veracity I can
safely vouch. Many of the events of this tale will
recall to the minds of not a few some of their own
experiences, or the experience of relatives or friends
as often rehearsed to them. I have no desire to cre¬
ate or revive any animosity on the part of those who
have survived the cruelties of slavery, but as one of
that race, now struggling for a position in the Nation
which once refused to recognize their manhood, I
trust I shall not be harshly censured for depicting a
few of the milder forms of treatment to which the
negro was subjected while enslaved.
In commenting upon the cruelties of slavery, I
have endeavored to suppress all rancorous feeling
which would naturally arise in the bosom of one so
closely identified with the race, remembering that this


4
preface.
book is for the reading public, and not intended to
offend any one. Should I, therefore, at any time, ap¬
pear hypercritical, attribute it to the over-powering
sympathy which might possibly have guided my pen.
Hoping that you may be amply compensated for
the moments spent in perusing these lines,
I remain, yours gratefully,
The Author.


THE JVJAXWELL FAMILY.
7
upon his only offspring. His son, Jonathan, grew
to be a bright, intelligent man, such a man as a father
could feel justly proud of, such a son as Harwood
Maxwell wished for, hoped for, and prayed for.
At last, the impartial sickle of death came along and
relentlessly removed Harwood Maxwell from this
mundane sphere, and Jonathan became sole possessor
of all the Maxwell estate, including men, women, and
all other goods and chattels. Jonathan was a man,
in- many respects, similar to his father ; he had been
fondly indulged, always having numerous servants to
attend his every wish, and as he sat and reflected upon
what he must do in the future, his fine, handsome
face was lighted up with a smile of satisfaction, for
he realized that he had under his entire control
hundreds of acres of richly cultivated soil, a great
number of human beings, whose sweat and labor, as
well as their blood, had been the means of enriching
the very soil which he now possessed. He was im¬
bued with all of those ideas characteristic of the true
Southern gentlemen, whose education taught them
that labor was degrading, and who did not believe
in that part of his country's law which declared "all
men were born free and equal." He had married
into one of those aristocratic Southern families more
noted for their family respectability than their wealth,
and who, being the possessors of a small estate with
only a few human beings as subjects, made life a
veritable hell for those few, and extracted from them
all the labor they were capable of performing. A


8
BOND AND FREE.
man reared as Jonathan Maxwell, being the worthy
son of a sire noted for his peculiarities, while he pos¬
sessed some of the same traits of his father, was
strong in his own individuality. He had reached an
age when liberty of thought took a wide range with
him, and the points in his character were clearly
displayed. He believed that all men had distinctive
relations; that inordinate principles decreed that white
was born to rule and black to be ruled. He believed
that his betters were unborn and his equals were few.
Having been over-indulged, he was, of course, greatly
spoiled. So assertive was he in his views that he
almost denied himself that contact with the world,
which draws men out. He was almost absolutely
wrapped up in himself, being entirely unanimous
upon the infallibility of his own conceptions. He
hated the world because concession was not generally
given to his haughty ideas, and because he realized
his inability to flog the world into agreement; he
never hesitated to crack the whip of authority over
the heads and upon the backs of those around him.
His society was much sought for because it was ex¬
clusive, and it afforded him great pleasure when he
beheld his fellow-man writhing in the throes of dis¬
tress. Some people said that he was a cruel master;
others said that he was very exacting, but not cruel.
His wife was one of those handsome Southern beau¬
ties, indolent to a fault, and whose ideas regarding our
unfortunate race were strictly in accord with those of
her husband, and vet, if anything, far worse. Jona-


THE MAXWELL FAMILY.
9
than had one thing in his nature that none of the
long line of Maxwells was ever known to possess;
that was an inordinate desire to increase his posses¬
sions. He was a man with few scruples, consequently,
nothing stood in the way of his acquiring more wealth.
His plantations were all in good condition, his human
cattle fat and sleek. The latter, though worked hard,
were well quartered and well fed. This, of course,
made them prolific, and, in fact, many of them were
kept upon the estate on account of their breeding
qualities.
Things worked along upon the Maxwell estate
with an evenness never before known; but the
master became more and more exacting, and the
poor subjects more and more depressed. The field
hands, of course, felt none of this hard grinding, be¬
cause their lot was unchanged. Bill Lewis, the over¬
seer, still held his position under his new master, and,
as he was evidently a reader of human nature, as¬
sisted, no doubt, by his long service with the Max¬
wells, he knew that no matter how hard he drove nor
how severely he whipped, his employer would be
satisfied, so long as good returns were the result. Over
the house servants Lewis had no control, but he had
often compelled many of them to submit to his hellish
and brutish designs, and the features of several pick-
ininnies about the plantation bore a striking resem¬
blance to his low, ill-bred countenance.
Among Jonathan Maxwell's house servants was a
woman who, had she not have had the traces of Afri-


10
BOND AND FREE.
can blood in her veins, and had she been reared with
half the care with which Mrs. Maxwell, her mistress,
had, would have been an ornament to any society, and
put to blush many so-called Southern beauties. She
was a woman about two or three and twenty years of
age, beautiful in form, her features were as delicate and
chaste as a lady bred in luxury and refinement; her
long black tresses were of silken glossiness; her car¬
riage and bearing were characterized by both dignity
and grace. This woman, possessed of all the attractive¬
ness which nature could bestow, was what? No
more than a mere thing, a piece of goods, a mere chattel,
with a price upon her head, a commodity that could
be bought or sold, with no protection for her virtue,
and whose beauty only made her the more valuable
in the eyes of some brute whose lust urged him to bid
a higher price for her possession. This woman by na¬
ture, whatever else by law, bore a marked resemblance
to Jonathan Maxwell. He knew it; his wife did not
fail to notice it, and Purcey, for such was the name
she bore, also recognized the likeness herself. She
not only resembled her young master in countenance,
but there were many things about her which showed
unmistakable evidence of Maxwell blood, Maxwell
pride, and Maxwell cleverness.
Before the death of Harwood Maxwell, Purcey had
enjoyed many liberties denied the other servants. She
was petted, cajoled, well dressed, even richly so at
times, and, except addressing her master as "massa"
and her mistress as " missa," she hardly realized her ig-


THE MAXWELL FAMILY.
11
nominious position. By some means, she had hoarded
up quite a little sum of money, and had been shrewd
enough to pick up a smattering of learning from hear¬
ing Jonathan goi ng over his lessons with his tutor. She
increased her little savings of money, and improved
her learning, allof which sheconcealed from everyone.
Purcey's mother was, and had been for years, the cook
of the Maxwell family. She was a woman with traces
of Indian blood in her veins, but how she became a
slave, history does not record. History does record,
however, how Harwood Maxwell bought a very beau¬
tiful negress at a sale while on a trip to the New
Orleans slave market, brought her home to his inva¬
lid wife, and how, in a short time, this beautiful slave
woman gave birth to a child which was more beauti¬
ful than the mother. Owing to its fair complexion
and its close resemblance to Mars Harwood, there
was no room to doubt nor was it difficult to trace the
father. There was an unusual amount of human
feeling evinced by Harwood Maxwell for this woman
and child. He was unlike thousands of his kind, who
ill-treated and sold their flesh and blood—a sin he
did not have to answer for. He neither abused, nor
allowed to be abused, the mother or the daughter.
This is why Purcey grew up into womanhood with
all of the spirit of one born a free being.
Whenever Jonathan's mother, for years an invalid,
demanded her husband to sell or dispose in some way of
this child and its mother, an eye-sore to her, she was met
with such a response from him as invariably brought


12
BOND AND FREE.
oil convulsions, Tier request never being complied
with.
Before her death, she called her son to her bed¬
side and taught him to bate Elva and her daughter,
Purcey, without revealing to him his father's perfidy.
Jonathan had not forgotten his mother's death-bed
instructions, though he had given her no intimation
that he would follow them. In fact, while he could
consistently hate his half-sister, nothing could in¬
duce him to dispose of his property, except the pros¬
pect of pecuniary gain. Elva was also the mother
of four other children, two boys and two girls. They
were of a type entirely different from Purcey, their
father being a full-blooded Negro. Consequently,
their features bore all the marks of the race. Elo,
whom I will hereafter describe, was the youngest of
the four. Emeline was of a brown-skin hue, with
thick lips, stubborn hair, and very coarse features.
The boys were both sturdy, manly fellows, each
worth fifteen hundred dollars to his master. With
that feeling born of slavery, Emeline cordially hated
Purcey ; first, because, as she termed it, " she was half
white and stuck up; " second, because of the natural
animosity borne by all field hands toward all house
servants. Jonathan Maxwell did not want to sell
Purcey, as she was his wife's maid, and that lady,
with that attachment a mistress has for a pet dog, or
bird, did not want her removed. Purcey's beauty
never made her foolish. She had a natural pride,
but never forgot her duty to her mistress. Ever


14
BOND AND FREE.
Mrs. Maxwell was a handsome woman, and she
had no cause to fear any rival, but where on earth
did one woman who was handsome, and knew it,
ever meet another handsomer than herself that the
seeds of jealousy did not take root ? There was a
wide chasm between Mrs. Maxwell and her servant,
but Purcey appearing in such a costume at such a
time, was really exasperating and outrageous to her
bias views of the duty of an underling, and she had
determined to stop it at once. But meeting so defi¬
ant an air from her intended victim, she wisely con
eluded, though still angry, to adopt a less summary
mode of punishment. Her hand fell to her side, and,
dropping into her easy chair, she said, imperatively:
" Disrobe me." Purcey immediately obeyed with that
submissiveness characteristic of her race. Mrs. Max¬
well never again attempted to administer corporal
punishment to her.


CHAPTER II.
Another Family.
The adjoining plantation to Jonathan Maxwell's
belonged to Abraham Biggers. Mr. Biggers was a
characteristic Southerner, the owner of a plantation
of over five hundred acres, upon which lie had fifty
or a hundred human beings, besides other stock.
The latter received better treatment and better care
than the former. Among this goodly number of Mr.
Biggers' goods and chattels, was a family of McCul-
lars, consisting of father, mother, and a prolific off¬
spring of some twenty odd children. John McCul-
lar was a man about sixty years of age, and was
a freeman, while his wife was the alleged property
of Mr. Biggers, as were all of the children who
bore the name of McCullar. For in those halcyon
days of traffic in human stock, if the husband and
father was born a freeman, bought his freedom, or was
set free, by marrying a woman in bondage, all of his
offspring became the property of the woman's master.
It will at once be seen that, as John McCullar
was a freeman, and could not be bought, to secure
one of his boys upon a plantation and marry him to
a healthy woman, or turn him loose—if of a licentious
nature—would be a profitable investment for any man
possessing such ideas as those possessed by Jonathan
(15)


16
BOND AND FREE.
Maxwell. A marriage between one of Biggers'
boys of the McCullar breed to Purcey would be to
him a continual source of profit. Well may it be
said that the ways of Providence are beyond under¬
standing. Here was a man who had no master, who
was what was called a free man, yet deprived of the
full enjoyment of all the privileges belonging to
other freemen because his skin was black. This man,
in his ignorance, connects himself to a woman in
bondage, and adds fuel to the already burning flame
of slavery. Poor, deluded creature! What did he
know of the wrong he was doing his race? What
did he know of the untold suffering which awaited
every child of which he was the father? And this
was only a single instance of how this blot upon a
nation's honor was fed, was kept alive, and prospered.
Better had John McCullar died in embryo than to
have been born, to be the means of bringing into the
world so many human beings to become the common
property of a soulless huckster in humanity.
Among the McCullar boys was William, a fellow of
good address, who could follow a cradle in a harvest
field from sunrise until sunset, walk five miles to a
neighboring plantation, dance all night, and hold his
own the following day without a crack from the over¬
seer's whip. He had frequently been hired by Jonathan
Maxwell from his master, and had attracted the at¬
tention of everybody about the place by his steadi¬
ness and his pride. William had considerable pride
for a slave; he was entirely oblivious of his own


ANOTHER FAMILY.
17
situation, but appeared fully to realize that the most
despicable thing to come in contact with was a black
man. He was not white himself, being of a dark-
brown complexion, with lips slightly inclined to thick¬
ness, a high intelligent forehead, and with a speech
quite free from the "dis"and "dat" of the plan¬
tation hands. A distinguishable feature about Wil¬
liam was the use of words of which he seldom knew
the meaning, but, by some unaccountable manner,
succeeded in getting them in the proper place. The
fact of his using language in advance of himself
made him the beau ideal of all the females for miles
around. This superior recognition led him to look
with contempt upon his fellow male-associates.
Now there were plenty of female servants upon Mr.
Biggers' plantation, healthy, buxom women, and of a
varied assortment of complexions, from the whiteness
of an Anglo-Saxon to the deepest black; but there is
an open secret which existed in the accursed days of
slavery, and which exists among the race to-day.
That secret is, that a real black man is generally ex¬
tremely partial to very light women. William was
no exception to this rule, as will be readily perceived,
and when at one of those regular plantation midnight
gatherings, where an old uncle sat up in the corner
of the room with his legs crossed, a banjo resting
upon his knee, head thrown back, keeping time with
his foot, and calling figures to the time of the music,
music which seemed to inspire every living thing,
music unwritten and unsung, music which to those
a


18
BOND AND FREE.
untutored minds was as sweet as the music of a
Strauss or a Yerdi to the most cultivated, every¬
body was dancing, feet were shuffling in regular order,
the ladies moving with all the imaginable grace they
could assume, while the gents were as gallant as the
most attentive chevalier, he noticed among the throng
of amusement seekers a beautiful, sylph-like form,
whose grace of motion, lovely countenance, and evi¬
dent superiority over her more unfortunate sisters
completely captivated him.
Her every movement was closely watched by him,
and there were few of his associates who did not per¬
ceive a radical change in his manner. He did not
enter into the enjoyment of the dance with the same
zest as on other occasions. In fact, William's mind
was wholly engrossed with this unknown beauty. It
was known that he was of a taciturn disposition, and
the fact of his not entering fully into the enjoyments
of the evening did not attract the attention of those
present so much as his actions, whenever this par¬
ticular female came near him. " He would gaze after
her intently and longingly. He seemed to have no
words for anybody, but glutted and feasted his eyes
upon the beautiful form of the woman who moved
so gracefully from place to place.
Those unfamiliar with slavery, and unaccus¬
tomed to seeing men and women so fair in their
complexions as to raise doubts whether they were
white or black, would have thought the woman who
so attracted William's attention was out of her ele-


ANOTHER FAMILY.
19
ment, it being a difficult matter to discover evidences
of negro blood in her. William could no longer re¬
strain his admiration, and prevailed upon a friend for
an introduction. He was presented to her, and met
for the first time the woman who afterwards became
his wife. William's brilliant conversational powers
and gentlemanly deportment favorably impressed
Purcey.
There are various kinds of dancing indulged
in by persons who enjoy that amusing pastime, but
for original, amusing, and active dancing one should
see a select gathering of negro house-servants on a
plantation as they glide through a regular old Vir¬
ginia reel, with their aptness for copying after the
style and grace of their mistresses, combined with an
admixture of original jigging, not of a vulgar, but
of a quiet, decent character. There is a very great
difference between an old Virginia break-down, as
^dulged in by the field hands, or what they com¬
monly called "common niggers," and a select dance,
as indulged in by the house-servants, or " upper crust
darkeys." In the latter, there is an entire absence of
the coarse, vulgar, noisy break-downs and jigs which
were so common in the former. When the servants
who lived in the " big house" held their social gather¬
ings, the lines of social distinction were closely drawn.
Even among these poor unfortunates, all deprived of
their liberty alike, there existed those social ties which
both bind and separate the coarse and vulgar from
the more refined and genteel.


20
BOND AND FREE.
Purcey's beauty and lady-like bearing could not
help but command considerable attention from the
colored beaux. Every young man in the county knew
her, and every young man in the county would have
sacrificed his eye teeth, or committed some other
bodily infliction, to have had the pleasure of basking
in the sunshine of Miss Purcej^'s smiles. Several had
made strenuous efforts to gain favor from her, but in
vain. Her dignified, yet lady-like, bearing proved
too great a barrier for any continued advances on
their part. She became commonly and mutually re¬
spected, if not almost revered, by all the young men
without being bored by any of them. She was called
the beauty of the county, and, whenever present at
any kind of a gathering, was the queen of the hour.
It need not be said that a vague suspicion existed
among these sons of bondage that Purcey thought
herself too good for many of them, and the suspicion
was well founded.
Among the most determined of Purcej^'s suit¬
ors, was a young man who was the property of
a once very wealthy widow lady, who kept about
her only a few servants of her own, hiring what¬
ever other help she needed to work her plantation.
James Seabury was the young man in question, and
he was the Widow Dean's favorite servant. He was
given much liberty, managed the other servants, and
was trusted beyond limit. He was commonly called
the " Widow Dean's Jim." Jim was of a copper-
colored complexion, with straight hair, clear cut fea-


ANOTHEK FAMILY.
21
tures, and a fine physique. He dressed with great
taste and neatness, and sported a handsome gold
watch—a gift of his mistress, who took great pride in
him. Jim was naturally quick withal, and possessed
a splendid mind which only needed cultivation. Here,
however, was the level upon which he stood with the
most stunted and ignorant field hand. With all his
natural acquirements, without freedom, without the
letter, his condition was a regretful one, and his ex¬
cellent qualities were stunted by a cruel, unjust op¬
pression. Jim had vainly struggled to force his at¬
tentions upon Purcey ; he spared neither money nor
wit to win her affection, and while, at times, his soul
was delighted by a few hours in her society, yet all
of his advances were met with a dignified but posi¬
tive check. He was, of course, without those traits
of winsomeness so common to men of a more intel¬
lectual mind, and had to content himself with his
simple knowledge of wooing, as he had been taught
by Uncle Oscar
Every plantation had some old uncle or aunty
who set up business as instructor in love affairs.
Their stock of information was very limited,
and partook much of a sameness, but to the poor,
untutored minds of those who received instructions
from them, they were regarded as prophetical, and
great confidence was placed in them. The instruc¬
tions in love-making, as imparted by Uncle Oscar,
were of that character of information which makes a
man better off without it. He could get so far and


22
BOND AND FREE.
no farther; then the pupil was left to talk for himself.
Jim had called on Uncle Oscar for instructions as to
how to make love, and had been addressed something
like this:
"Now, chile, when yer heart is set on a young
lady, and you wants ter 'splain to her de amors
affecshun of yer heart, you goes in. She says,
'Ilabaseat?' You says,'Don't car if do.' She says,
'Kest yer hat?' You says, 'Don't car if I do.' Den,
when you'se seated, you cross yer legs, puts yer hand
up in yer serspender, dis way, fro back yer head, and
say : ' Miss, dar has been sumpfin' on my mind dat I
hab sought prebious opportunites befor the present
'cassion to give -unlimited scope to my 'spressions.
Should dar be no 'jections, I desire to 'splain what
hab been to me de unhappy moments when I'se
absent from yer presence.' After }Ter hab said dis,
den wait for 'feet."
This is as far as Uncle Oscar's instructions
extended. What was to be done after the effect,
James was left to decide for himself. With
this meager information, arrant knight never went
forth to meet his lady fair with more boldness than
the Widow Dean's Jim. As he sallied forth to call
upon Miss Purcey, over and over in his mind did he
turn the words of his tutor, until he could repeat them
almost verbatim. Having reached the presence of
his fair Dulcina, being invited to a seat, Jim, without
any further conversation, began to recite U nele Oscar's
love piece. When he came to the end of his speech


24
BOND AND FREE.
entire journey, and thus shut out the possibility of
any rival out-generaling him. But not attending to
these details, he was doomed to a disappointment and
humiliation that day which ended forever his affec¬
tions for Purcey, and shook his confidence in the en¬
couraging influence of the wine when it is red, or corn -
juice after it is distilled.
The camp-meeting was a large one, conducted by
Brother Uncle Belden, of Baptist faith. Brother Bel-
den was a gifted man; he was blessed or gifted with
a stentorian pair of lungs, a very active and original
imagination, and could read the Bible with the lids
closed, with as much satisfaction to himself as he
could wThen open, because Brother Belden could not
read at all. He had, however, been called to preach,
and with an ever-ready obedience shown by those
only who have received the call, he responded.
Uncle Belden was one of that vast army of called
laborers in the vineyard of the Lord, who have never
stopped to measure their fitness. Fitness was con¬
sidered hardly necessary as a qualification to their
labor. So nearly on an equality were the preacher
and the hearer, that he who announced that he had
been called by the Lord to labor in His moral vine¬
yard was looked upon with holy reverence. They
were all equally deprived, both the called and the
uncalled. The privilege of obtaining any better
knowledge of the Word of God was denied them,
except through the medium of such men as Uncle
Belden.


ANOTHER FAMILY
25
In him they confided ; him they honored; in him
they saw the messenger of the Lord bearing the only
consolation which was like balm to their hearts
in their deepest sufferings. From this source they
learned, after all the sufferings of this life, that a
brighter and more peaceful one awaited them in the
life to come.
It was the true camp-meeting of ye olden times,
when the people were inspired with the earnestness
of their work, and worshiped beneath the green trees
and the bright heavens, the sweet songsters of na¬
ture responding to their earnestness. The soft, green
turf upon which they kneeled and poured forth
prayers, such as only their simple souls could give
utterance to, was quite in place, and far superior to
their houses of worship. The hymns they sang were
original and quaint, the music was unwritten and in¬
imitable, the pathos exciting them to high but ear¬
nest demonstration. What a contrast between ye
camp-meeting of ye good old slave-days and the
Sabbath-breaking, speculative gatherings of to-day!
It was one of these camps Jim attended, and as he
had expected, met Purcey Upon discovering her,
he carried out with avidity his determination to bol¬
ster up Jiis courage with the stuff that cheers. From
the well-filled bottle with which he had provided
himself, he took frequent potations, until his courage
was up to the point of boldness sufficient to ap¬
proach her. Pureejr, dressed in the riding habit which
had so incensed her mistress, resting against a tree,


26
BOND AND FREE.
and deeply engrossed with Brother Bel den's disserta¬
tion upon the unknown future, looked the picture of
beauty.
Jim approached her, touching her gently on the
arm. Purcey turned suddenly, and discovered from
his dilating eyes and the unpleasant aroma which
emanated from his mouth that he had been drinking.
Her first impulse was to reprimand him then and
there, but fearing to attract attention, she said:
"Well, Mr. Seabury, you here?"
Jim said, " Yes, Miss Purcey, will you walk with
me? "
This invitation, coming from a young man in his
cups, would doubtless have been refused by most
young women, but Purcey, knowing Jim's sticking
qualities, assented. The two left the vicinity of the
pulpit, which was a rude structure erected out of
rough boards and set upon four logs, and proceeded
a short distance toward the open road. When they
had gone, as Purcey thought, far enough, she stopped,
and, in a very polite manner, asked her escort what
he desired. By this time; Jim had become pretty
well confused, and had been lost in a maze of thought
as to what to say to Purcey; now that they were
alone, after a moment's silence, having apparently col¬
lected his scattered thoughts, he said :
"Miss Purcey, I love you, 'deed I do, and, if j-our
master will let me, I want to marry you. Will you
have me? " At this, he fell 011 his knees and seized
her hand with both of his, covering it with kisses.


CHAPTER III.
The Bargain.
Jonathan Maxwell was anxious that Purcey should
marry one of the McCullar breed, which one, he did
not care. So he betook himself to the Biggers
plantation for the purpose of bringing about the de¬
sired union. Jonathan was always a welcome visitor
at the Biggers mansion, and, when announced, Mr.
Biggers was just turning over in his mind the pro
ject of "putting a few niggers into his pocket," as he
always termed the bartering away of human flesh and
blood. For some time Mr. Biggers had been grow¬
ing financially embarrassed; he had parted with a
number of his slaves to the traders, and others had
parted from him for fear of being sold South. Two
or three of his slaves had made successful attempts in
escaping, which had only aroused the rancorous
feeling in the man, and, one da}T, he called them all
up and informed them that the next time a d—m
nigger ran away from the plantation, he would sell
all the rest and put them into his pocket, where he
was sure they would be safe.
Mr. Biggers said, " Don't I clothe you ? don't I feed
you? don't I give you a holiday every Christmas?
Well, if I do this, why don't you be obedient to your
master, and be contented with your lot?" After giv-
(28)


THE BARGAIN.
29
ing them this lecture, he bought two keen-scented
blood-hounds, discharged his overseer, and brought
up another from an Alabama plantation, a man who
he said could flay a nigger alive, and was up to all
their tricks. Notwithstanding all of these precau¬
tions, it was not long before another runaway was re¬
ported, and as Mr. Biggers sat counting up his losses
from runaways—for every runaway slave represented
the loss of so many dollars and cents, which natur¬
ally decreased Mr. Biggers' wealth—and, further,
realizing the pressing demands for money. Jona¬
than Maxwell's visit, just at this time, on business of
the nature upon which he came, was not only oppor¬
tune, but a great oasis in Mr. Biggers' financial desert.
It would, perhaps, be well to contrast the two men
as we have them before us. Jonathan Maxwell we
know as a proud, unscrupulous, designing man, stop¬
ping at nothing to make a dollar, yet he was not a
cruel master, unless all men who deprived their fel¬
low-man of his liberty were cruel. Abraham Big¬
gers was a man of an entirely different type, being
short in stature, heavily built, stub-feet, stub-hands?
and stub-nose. His head was round and his neck
short and thick. He looked out of two very restless
and small eyes, overhung with large shaggy eyebrows
while all over his countenance could be discerned^
low cunning, cruelty, and utter meanness.
Having welcomed Jonathan, he led the way into a
comfortable sitting-room, inviting his visitor to a seat.
Opening a drawer with a key which he selected from


30
BOND AND FREE.
a large bunch he had taken from his pocket, he pro¬
duced a box of cigars, pushed them toward Jonathan,
who took one and lighted it. Mr. Biggers did like¬
wise. He waited for Jonathan to open up the con¬
versation, for it was a rule with him to talk but little
and listen much. Jonathan was rather impatient to
hurry through with his business, for he had little
liking for the man he had to deal with. It is
doubtful whether, under circumstances other than
his pecuniary interest, he would have condescended
to pay a visit to a man of Mr. Biggers' stamp. With¬
out much ceremony, he made known the object of
his visit. He removed his cigar from his mouth,
and said:
" Biggers, do you know my girl Purcey ? "
Biggers looked up thoughtfully, tapped his red
forehead with one of his stubby fingers, bent his little
round body forward, and said :
" Do you mean that devilish pretty yaller gal whom
you have spoiled ? "
"Well, if that's the way you put it, yes."
" What of her? " said Mr. Biggers.
"I should like to match her with one of your
niggers—remember, she is a fine girl, and I don't
care about matching her with any on my place, so I
thought if I could get your consent, we would mate
her with one of the McCullar niggers.''
Mr. Biggers sat bolt upright, removed the cigar from
his mouth, which he had been chewing more than
smoking, and before answering, wondered what object


THE BARGAIN.
81
other than the one stated, Jonathan could have in
desiring this union. He knew that whatever children
they had would become Maxwell's, and he (Biggers)
would gai» nothing by the match in that respect. lie
also feared that Purcey, proud as he knew she was—
her blood being so mixed with that of the Anglo-
Saxon—might put the devil in her husband's head and
induce him to run away. He did not, however, give
utterance to any of these thoughts, but looked steadily
at Maxwell, as he said slowly,
"Jonathan, what will you take for that gal?"
"I don't want to sell her; I want to mate her."
"Why not sell her? Let me have her, and I'll
make you a present of the first born—and it won't
be a nigger, either."
Jonathan Maxwell did not know whether Biggers
was in earnest or in jest, for Biggers kept smiling
all the time and looking straight at him. So speak¬
ing rather impatiently, he said, "Biggers, I mean
business, and you have gone to jesting."
" Never was more serious in my life. You sell me
the gal or buy the boy, otherwise we can't drive a
bargain."
Jonathan knew that when Biggers came to a con¬
clusion there was no moving him. He had not thought
of making a purchase, but he now saw that if he
wanted to mate Purcey to one of the McCullars, he
must buy one of them. So he said, " Which one
will you sell ? "
" Any one of them you want. A nigger's only


32
BOND AND FREE.
so much cash to me, and I would just as lief sell one
as another; all I want is the price."
" Well," said Jonathan, "the one I hire from you
occasionally is a good worker, appasej^ly sound,
healthy, and active. What is your price for him? "
" That's a devilish good boy you have selected, and
I would not part with him for a cent less than two
thousand dollars," was Mr. Biggers' reply, as he
brought his fist down upon the table. And his little
eyes twinkled.
"Then you had better keep him ; he is worth more
to you than he is to me. There isn't a nigger on my
place I would ask you that much for."
" Will you take two thousand dollars for the gal? "
" Yes, give me the money, and she is yours."
Mr. Abraham Biggers was taken somewhat aback
by this offer, for with all his talk about buying the
girl, he had no such intention, and if he had, all his
ready resources were so intricately tied up that he
could not have made the purchase had his desire been
ever so great. So he began to change his mode of
attack.
" Now look here, Maxwell, two 'thousand dollars
ain't a big price for that 'ere boy, for he's worth
every dollar of it, and if he is anvthing like that old
black father of his, he will make five times the
money for you in less than ten years. Besides, as a
hand about the place, I haven't got his equal; never
growls, ain t vicious, and only needs lashing once in
awhile to keep him in mind of Ins plnce." This was


THE BARGAIN.
33
one of Mr. Biggers' customs, which he invariably
carried out, no matter how faithful a slave was, how
attentive to work, or true to his master. With that
ingratitude of the dog that snaps at the hand which
feeds him, this cruel and heartless master found some
pretext to ply the lash, often remarking that niggers
would forget themselves.
Jonathan MaxwelL was quick to take advantage of
Mr. Biggers' pecuniary condition; he well knew and
fully understood the close quarters his neighbor was
in. He knew the man, and he at once commenced to
display an air of indifference.
"Now, Biggers, I ain't particular about Bill, any
of the other boys will suit me just as well. The
reason I selected him is, because the girl appears to
take to him, and I don't believe there would be any
trouble about mating them, if I had him on the
place."
Mr. Biggers rubbed his stubby hands together, as
though greatly tickled with the last remarks of
Jonathan.
" Ha! ha ! Maxwell," he replied, " that's it exactly,
that's it; the gal takes to him, no trouble to make the
match, two thousand dollars and he is yours; cheap,
sir, cheap as bull-beef at a penny a pound," and lying
back iu his chair, he laughed heartily at his own
cleverness,
" But," said Jonathan, " I protest! Two thousand
dollars is too much ; I can buy two niggers for that."
Mr. Biggers formed the opinion in his own mind
3


34
BOND AND FEEE.
that he was very clever. So pleased was he with his
own humor that he invariably laughed when, as he
thought, he was about to say, or had said, a clever
thing. He did not intend to lose the chance of
making a sale, and his object for holding out so long
before coming down to his selling-price was to see
how anxious Jonathan was to make the purchase.
Jonathan's indifference made him somewhat afraid
to dally too long, and he spoke now like a man
anxious to take hold, but unwilling to let go.
" So you could, sir, so you could. But the two
wouldn't be the one you want, ha! ha! How is that,
Maxwell? Ha! ha!"
Jonathan looked at his neighbor, and a sarcastic
smile overspread his face. He was growing tired of
Mr. Biggers, for he felt satisfied that that gentleman
nad not put the price he meant to sell at on the man,
Bill. He was as anxious to buy as Biggers was to
sell, but he used every effort to conceal his anxiety.
" Tell you what I will do. If you have any other
niggers to sell, I will take one of them; I wouldn't
pay two thousand dollars for any one you have on
the place."
" That shows you don't know the place, and what
it is capable of producing, Maxey, ha! ha! (Jonathan's
lip curled with scorn at beingthus familiarly addressed,
but said nothing.) " Make me an offer," said Mr. Big¬
gers, "butbe liberal, Maxey, be liberal."
'' Make you a liberal offer?" said Jonathan, with a


THE BARGAIN.
35
smile. 111 shall be liberal; I will give you one
thousand and five hundred cash."
Mr. Biggers stretched out his short legs to their
full length, lay back in his chair, tossing to one side
his little bullet head, while his little pea-like eyes
closed alternately, his stubby hands went down into
his pockets, and, in the absence of any cash, rattled
a bunch of keys. His thin blue lips were pursed
up, and he uttered a long, low whistle which ended
"by him saying, " Not by a d—rn sight! "
" All right," said Maxwell, as he arose and took
his hat and gloves from the table. " Then that settles
it, the boy is yours, the girl is mine, and so is the
cash."
Mr. Biggers, without changing his position, with
his eyes still performing the grand change, said, " Add
another hundred." Jonathan paused, with his hand
upon the door-knob, eyed his neighbor closely, and,
without a word, returned to the table, took his check¬
book from the inner pocket of his coat, and filled up
a blank for sixteen hundred dollars. This he handed
over to Mr. Biggers, who examined it closely again
and again, folded it up, and in a very bad hand wrote
out a receipt, transferring the same to Jonathan, and
with as polite a bow as his coarse manners permitted,
said,
" Shall I send the boy with you ? "
Jonathan answered, "No, send him to me." By
this transaction, William McCullar became the pro¬
perty of Jonathan Maxwell, and was to be installed


36
BOND AND FREE.
upon the very plantation where the woman he loved
resided. lie was, in fact, to enjoy bondage under a
new master, where his eyes would daily behold all
that was dear to him iu life.
Was it possible for this piece of goods and chattel
to have within his breast affection? Could that
affection spring from the same source as that of a
white man? Was it born of the same material,
possessing the same tendency? Was it, or could
it be, formed into a love pure and true, a love such
as poets have sung of, and mankind is subject to?
Could this being, deprived of everything except
the five senses given him by Gocl, either by instinct
or reason, reach that higher attitude of affection?
Such, dear readers, was the case. His ardor reached
the fullest, the highest, the purest, the holiest of love.
This was the affection which William McCullar, a
slave, who had nothing but his soul to call his own,
bore Purcey. And when his master summoned him
and handed him an unsealed note, directing him to
deliver it at the Maxwell plantation, his innocent
heart bounded with joy—not that he knew the con¬
tents of the note, for had it been written in letters
ten times as large, they would have conveyed to his
mind no greater significance than do the characters 011
Chinese tea chest to the average man. William's
heart bounded because he knew that in going to the
Maxwell plantation he would sec Purcey; because
he could go to the house where she resided, in open
daylight without fear of molestation, and feast his


THE BAKGAIN.
37
eyes upon her beauty. There was but one thing that
puzzled him. He could not understand why his
master had selected him as a bearer of a message
to Jonathan Maxwell. House-servants were usually
employed as messengers, and he was a teamster.
Another thought struck him. Was the note he had
to deliver a pass that he could use upon his return,
as he realized that it would be well into the night
before he could return? This gave him cause for
alarm. He feared that, returning in the night, he
might be captured by the patrol, and he well knew
what that meant, to be caught off his master's planta¬
tion without a pass.
The patrol were a dread to all slaves. They were
men employed by the master to arrest all slaves found,
after a certain hour at night, away from home without
a permit. When they caught a slave, his back usually
got nine and thirty. They consisted of a poor class
of whites, who found pleasure in such employment,
often indulging in it for mere sport. They frequently,
out of pure cussedness, attacked the slaves when as¬
sembled together, or having such pleasures as they
found to indulge in. The patrol, consisting of half
a dozen ruffians, would surround a resort for slaves,
and make a raid upon it; the negroes would scatter
in every direction, and those unfortunate enough to be
captured were whipped for the fun of it. These ruf¬
fians did not always succeed in getting away without
injury, for a broken head caused by a stray missile
hurled by some slave was not an unusual occurence.


38
BOND AND FREE.
William did not spend much time in considering
these questions, although very important to him. He
had been directed by his master to go to the Max¬
well plantation, and the prospect of seeing Purcey,
he thought, was worth a race with the patrol. They
had to catch him before they whipped him, and he
consoled himself with the confidence he had in his
legs. He now set out to deliver the message of his
master, perfectly innocent of his purchase by Jona¬
than. So eager was he to reach his destination that
he arrived there in an incredibly short time. Little
did he think what a doom—a pleasant doom—was in
store for him.
How like many of his fellow-men was "William!
His position, his surroundings were not given a
moment's thought. Now, all his thoughts were
concentrated on the one object, His one hope,
his one thought was of the woman he loved ; and
any pretext or opportunity that carried him into the
presence of her to whom he was devoted was only
too eagerly sought or accepted. The note was duly
delivered to Jonathan Maxwell, who, after glancing
over its contents, said to William, "I have bought
you. You are to remain upon my place." Had a
thunderbolt struck at his feet and buried itself in
the earth without injuring him, William could not
have been more amazed. He was stricken completely
dumb, and stood with bowed and uncovered head in
that attitude of submissiveness so characteristic of
the slave, his heart struggling within his bosom as if


40
BOND AND FREE.
the house allotted to Elva, except when his cook was
in the most amiable mood.
When William entered the kitchen, Elva, though
busily engaged at her work, appeared much engrossed
in thought. We have said that she was an extraor¬
dinary woman, and so she was for one in her posi¬
tion. Her intelligence was remarkable, and she pos¬
sessed all of those qualities peculiar to her sex. Per¬
haps the admixture of Indian and Anglo-Saxon blood
in her veins answered for the possession of these quali¬
ties. But making such an admission as this strength¬
ens a theory which was quite prevalent in the days
of slavery, and, perhaps, exists among a few negro-
haters to-day—that a negro is incapable of any deep
thought Nevertheless, Elva was thinking and roll¬
ing out dough at the same time.
She was the mother of five children, as we know.
Her husband had been sold from her immediately
following the birth of the fifth and last child. After
he was sold, she determined never to marry again;
she would never again be guilty of adding fuel to the
fire of slavery. This was a vow she took and she
kept it, notwithstanding the importunities of numer¬
ous suitors. She had taken another vow, and that
was that her children should be free—at least those
who desired freedom—and it was this subject which
so deeply interested her that, when William entered
the room, she failed to notice his presence. Plans
had already been effected for the escape of her two
sons, and she was now engaged in studying out the


THE BARGAIN.
41
course she was to pursue in assisting in the contem¬
plated escape. She knew nothing of William's pres¬
ence until she heard him mention her name. Turning
suddenly with the rolling-pin in her hands, she be¬
held William^ his face wreathed in smiles, bowing
and scraping in an excited manner. His presence at
such an hour at the Maxwell house, looking "unusu¬
ally tidy and acting so strangely, rather surprised her.
It was not William's custom or privilege to visit Pur-
cey in the day-time. He usually came at night, and
was always in fear of being captured by the pa¬
trol before he could return home; it was also a very
unusual thing for one of Mr. Biggers' negroes to be
off on a holiday. William would often stop at the
Maxwell house, when passing with his six-horse team,
and had been made the recipient of many a square
meal. But here he was, at an hour in the day when
all able-bodied negroes were earning bread for their
masters. She looked at him with those beautiful
black eyes, which seemed to ask the question her lips
finally propounded. William had just come from a
hard and severe master, who worked his slaves hard
and fed them poorly, and this change of masters gave
him so much pleasure that he could hardly realize
it.
Mr. Biggers had very strict rules about his place,
especially applying to his slaves. None of them were
allowed off of the place; and if they went to church,
or attended any of the festivities on neighboring plan¬
tations, to be found out was to receive a sure and


42
BOND AND FREE.
severe lashing. Abraham Diggers' negroes, as it was
known for miles around, never got more than half
enough to eat. For six days in the week, they
worked from sunrise until sunset, upon rations is¬
sued to them daily, and on the seventh day they
fared the best they eould, rations never being issued
on the Sabbath. His idea was, that when a nigger
didn't work he didn't need to be fed. It will then be
seen that all of his slaves were left to shift for them¬
selves upon this particular day. The result was, that
neighboring hen-roosts, as well as smoke-houses and
corn-fields, were frequently visited. Many were the
complaints to Mr. Biggers about his thieving negroes,
but to them he only turned a deaf ear. The reader
might, perhaps, think that the hen-roosts of Mr. Big¬
gers suffered with the rest, but such was not the case.
There was not a slave upon his place that dared to
steal from this man; they could steal from anywhere
else, or steal anything they could lay hands upon,
but it was worth a negro's life to steal from Abra¬
ham Biggers.
There were many things in the character of Mr.
Abraham Biggers showing that he was a man with¬
out principle, avaricious, conniving, and not only a
cruel master, but that he was in fact mean. He
bore the unenviable reputation of acquiring the pro¬
perty of his neighbors without paying a proper
equivalent, and througli very questionable means.
It was a custom to allow to all slaves from
three to four weeks during the Christmas holi-


44
BOND AND FREE.
but were compelled to eat standing. In harvest, but
half an hour was given for meals, and they were
driven under the whip of a cruel overseer from sun¬
rise until sun set. Abraham Biggers had never been
married; no woman had ever as yet been won by any
of Mr. Biggers' personal charms; so far he had been
left alone to enjoy his meanness and vent his spleen
upon his goods and chattels, in place of upon a com¬
panion of his bosom. You must not think, dear
reader, that this man, capable of doing anything
mean, contemptible, or base, hesitated to satisfy his
passions with the poor unfortunate creatures who
were forced to call him master. It was his custom
to live with those of his female slaves whom his
base desires choose. By one of them, he had been
known to have three children, selling mother and
children to the traders. It was a very ordinary thing
for .Mr. Biggers to engage in this sort of business.
He was once known to purchase a very handsome
woman called Jane, to whose quarters he would go
regularly at night and remain. The woman finally
gave birth to a child, and was, in a few weeks, sold
to the traders. As negro traders never bought women
O O
with nursing children at their breast, and as the
child's whereabouts was never discovered, rumors
flew thick and fast that only God and Abraham Big¬
gers knew its fate. This was the man from whom
William McCullar was purchased by Jonathan Max¬
well, and the man had many reasons to rejoice at the
change of mastership.


THE BARGAIN.
45
When Elva looked at William, she said, "Well,
William, what brings you here?"
''Oh, Aunt Elva, what you think? "
" I don't know, honey, but I bin thinking good bit
of late. What's the matter ? "
"Why, Mars Maxwell has done bought me, and I
am to live here."
Elva was quite surprised to hear this announce¬
ment, and said: "Well, one thing's sure, child, you'll
have a better master and more to eat. I suppose
you and Purcey will both be happy. But, child,
take my advice and don't marry to bring children
into the world to become slaves." William hardly
heard this last remark, for entering the room from a
door directly before him, was Purcey, with her hands
full of dishes; and in her plain calico wrapper and
neat apron, her hair tucked carefully away under a
pretty little turban, she cut a simple but beautiful
figure. She bowed to William, deposited the dishes
upon the table, extended her hand, and invited him
to a seat, a courtesy her mother had entirely forgotten
to extend, owing to her astonishment. Purcey said,
" Why, Mr. McCullar, what brings you here this time
of day ? "
"I have come here to stay."
"Come here to stay! What do you mean?"
" Mars Maxwell bought me to-day, and I am to
stay here."
It must not be supposed that Purcey had no love
for William, for she had; she loved him dearly, sin-


46
BOND AND FREE.
cerely, but with becoming modesty. So when she
heard that "William had been bought by lier master,
she could scarcely conceal her ecstasy. She could
hardly realize that he whom she loved so dearly was
to be her every-day companion, or, at least, be so
near to her that she would see him almost constantly.
In a very calm manner, she congratulated him, and
hoped he would be pleased and contented with his
new home. William was soon settled in his new
quarters, and the course of love ran smooth be¬
tween him and Purcey, for unlike other people of
the world, although enjoying freedom, there was
nothing to roughen the course of these two hearts.
Bound in love and bound in bondage, they entwined
and encircled themselves around each other, and
sought that happiness known only to the unsophisti¬
cated.


48
BOND AJSTD FREE.
the woods ring with her joyous laughter whenever
William pleased her by saying something clever
I have said that the course of love ran smooth for
these two children of bondage, and so it did. Their
happiness was of that sort where perfect contentment
existed, where the mind is oblivious to the uncertain¬
ties of life. William had none of those responsibili¬
ties before him that would cause a freeman to think
and consider of the future. He lived only in the
present, he thought only of the present; and enrap¬
tured with the surroundings and the change in his
situation, his mind never embraced such an idea as
an end to all things. He did not have upon his
shoulders any of the responsibilities of life : every
provision was made for him. He was before the law
an irresponsible being, simply a machine built in
human form, capable of thought, but restrained from
action. His master filled a dual part for him, as the
masters of all slaves did. It is true that William's
chief wish and thought was to have Purcev for his
wife, for he loved her. The only thing now necessary
was to obtain his master's consent The warning
Elva had given was entirely lost upon him; he had
neither thought nor care for the future; he cared
only for the present, his future was his master's.
Purcey lived as much in the present as her lover.
She had already consented to become his wife; such
a union to her would be the consummation of her
highest hope. Notwithstanding her mother's attempt
to discourage her from any desire to wed while a


THE WEDDING.
49
slave, the advice, wholesome as it was, had taken
wmgs at the touch of Cupid, and was no longer to be
felt. So much in the present did she live that she
thought not of a possible separation; she thought not
of the hundreds of wives and husbands as devoted,
as faithful, as happy as herself, whom she had seen
separated, sold—one taken by one driver, and the
other by another, rent ruthlessly asunder. The holy
ties of wedlock were thus severed by the whim or
will of a heartless man. She had seen mother torn
from daughter, father from son, wife from husband.
How many had she seen placed upon the block, how
many had she heard of being quietly spirited away,
perhaps never to be seen again by those they loved
most dear! So entirely was she enraptured, so de¬
voted was she to this bondman-lover, that if she had
a thought of these things, it was brushed aside to
give place to that sweeter thought, her present happi¬
ness.
It was not an unusual custom for some masters
to give their slaves an elegant wedding when they
married, especially among the better class of Southern¬
ers, and as Jonathan Maxwell belonged to one of the
best of Southern families, he followed the custom
closely, allowing the widest freedom of the house to
Purcey and her friends. Preparations on a grand
scale were made. A select coterie of house-servants
were invited from neighboring plantations, many of
the females being attired in their mistresses' silks and
satins. Here and there a favorite servant could be
4


50
BOND AND FREE.
seen, resplendent in the jewelry of lier mistress, while
a few of the males were arrayed in their masters'
dress suits, in some instances worn with the know¬
ledge of the master, bat in most without it. The
ceremony was performed with great eclat by Rev.
Meredith, pastor of the church to which Jonathan
Maxwell belonged (for it must not pass unnoticed
that Jonathan was a member in high standing in the
church). The bride was richly attired, as Mrs. Max¬
well took great pains, at the solicitation of her husband,
in preparing Purcey for the great event. She stood
there with the blushes of virtue upon her handsome
face, her hand resting gently upon William's arm,
while the long black eye-lashes drooped over her
beautiful black eyes, which were cast upon the floor.
The words of the minister sounded distinctly as he
said, "What God has joined together let no man put
asunder." What a hollow mockery were those words,
uttered by a man of the Gospel, in the presence of hun¬
dreds who did not realize their meaning, and many
who had no regard for their sacredness! Many of
the whites were present at the ceremony, and took
great pride in pointing out their servants, comment¬
ing on their value and appearance. For two days
the Maxwell house was kept open, the servants came
and went, danced and ate to their hearts' content.
Nothing was spared to make the event a pleasant
one. There was many a one who danced at Purcey's
wedding who lived to see the words of the minister


CHAPTER Y.
A Bad Start.
The two sons of Elva, Henry and Joseph, had for
some time contemplated making their escape from
slavery. Their mother earnestly seconded them, and
gave them every encouragement in carrying out their
design. They had long since concluded that they
were as much value to themselves as to their master,
and they saw no reason why they should not be free
men. They longed for freedom, and had now deter¬
mined to obtain it. They had seen their father sold
from them and their mother, and they had seen chil¬
dren sold from their parents. The horrors of slavery
had deeply impressed them, and they grew to detest
it in all of its forms. Joseph was a brave, manly,
intelligent boy, who brought his master three or four
hundred dollars yearly by his hire. Henry was his
senior by a few years, and about equally as valuable
to his master. Freedom to them was a boon much
wished for, but, as yet, their idea as to what hard¬
ships they must suffer before obtaining it had not
developed into any definite form. They knew that
many had made successful escapes, while others, who
had attempted escape, had been returned and sold"to
the traders, taken South, there to end their existence
upon some cotton plantation, or in some Georgia rice
swamp, with a cruel overseer to scourge them, and
[52]


A BAD START.
53
where the constant baying of the blood hound froze
the very blood in their veins from fear. With all of
the dangers imminent from an attempt to escape,
they remained undaunted and determined. Freedom
was what they craved for, and in order to obtain it,
everything must be surmounted that stood between
thern and that for which they so earnestly longed.
Implicit confidence was placed in Elva's sagacity and
foresight, her advice frequently sought, and closely
adhered to.
Besides Henry and Joseph, there were five others
to accompany them. The arrangements were all
completed, and, by agreement, they all assembled at
one of the slave cabins on the Maxwell place, pre¬
paratory to starting. A fixed resolution to meet
death, rather than be recaptured, was in the mind of
every man.
' Elva pointed out to them the North star, telling
them this was the guide to all runaways, and that by
following it they would eventually reach the North,
and a free land. She instructed them to keep to¬
gether, and if molested, to fight to the death. It
was certainly a picture to see these seven human
beings, a throbbing heart within the bosom of each
one, that beat and longed for freedom. They were
fleeing from a servitude which robbed them of man¬
hood, and deprived them of liberty. Had it not been
for their natural endowments, they would have been
reckoned on a level with the brute creation.
Standing there, with uncovered heads, listening to


A BAD START.
leader, said, " Boys, daylight's coming and we had
better lay by." The entire party left the road and
concealed themselves in a corn-field.
Dick Cramp was detailed to make a reconnoisance.
He made the circuit of the field in which they were
concealed. Reaching a little hill, he looked out over
the broad expanse of corn, and saw at some distance
a white bull grazing. He looked again, and shaded his
eyes with his hand, thinking he was mistaken; but
there grazed the white bull, oblivious to the fact that
be was an object of great interest. Dick did not stop
to look again, but rushed back to the hiding-place of
the others, and called Joe. The noise he made run¬
ning through the corn brought every man to his feet,
club in hand, and the excited man was plied with
questions as to what was the matter.
Dick was one of Mr. Biggers' slaves, and had
joined the band of heroes determined upon seek¬
ing freedom. He was as finely built a specimen of
humanity as the eye ever rested upon, black as a
coal, with close-cropped hair, and well developed
muscles. Just why a white bull should so startle
him would not be strange when we consider how
superstitious negroes were; but there was a great
deal more of reality than superstition about this par¬
ticular bull.
Mr. Biggers owned a white bull of very fine breed,
and it was the only one of the kind known for miles,
in that neighborhood. When Dick saw this white
bull, he knew that it was lus master's, and when he


56
BOND AND FREE.
had recovered himself sufficiently to answer the many
questions with which he was plied, he said:
" Fore de Lord, boys ! I saw Mars Biggers' white
bull grazen over yonder on de hill.
Joe replied: u Dick, you'se a fool; what's Biggers'
bull doin' grazen round here, when we'se miles from
home? Ain't we been travelin' all night? "
" Can't help it, child, dat's Mars Biggers' bull. Go
look for voursels."
Biggers' white bull was as familiar to Joe and all
the rest of them as it was to Dick. To allay Dick's
fears, Joe went to the fence, mounted it, and looking
in the direction indicated by Dick, beheld the identi¬
cal white bull. Joe discovered more, upon a careful
investigation ; he discovered that they were in Mr.
Biggers' corn-field, and quickly concluded that they
had lost their way, having simply been circling around
their starting-point. Returning to the others, he said:
"Boys, we'se in a pretty fix; here we been trablin'
all night, and ain't out of sight of de old plantation."
" What we gwine to do," some one asked.
" Why, we'll all go home and go to work, meet
here to-night, and start agin," said Joe.
As it was hardly daylight, it was not probable that
any of them had been missed from their homes, few
of their fellow-slaves knowing of their intention to
escape. This secrecy was always necessarv, for so
many of the slaves were untrustworthy about any¬
thing concerning affairs about the plantation, deem¬
ing it their duty to tell their masters anything about


A BAD START.
57
one another they knew. In view of the fact of the
contemplated escape not being generally known, Joe's
suggestion was a wise one. All their things were
hid in the corn-field ; each one betook himself to his
respective abode, and went about his work as though
nothing unusual had happened. Joe did not make
his home with the Maxwells, being hired out by his
master. He had some distance to travel to reach the
place where he was hired. Being much fatigued,
upon reaching his home, he proceeded to his room in
the loft of the house, and had just thrown himself
upon his apology for a bed, which occupied a very
narrow space in the corner of the room, when his
master's voice summoned him to perform his daily
chores.
Joe arose with aching head and throbbing heart,
wondering whether the news of his attempted escape
had reached his master's ears. The escape had been
attempted Saturday night, so that they would have
the whole of Sunday for a start, all the boys, except¬
ing Joe, having sought permission from their masters
to be absent on Sunday. It will be perceived by
this that they would have had a full night and a
day's start before being missed. It being Sunday,
Joe soon performed his chores, and put out for the
Maxwell homestead to see his mother. When he
entered the kitchen, Elva was engaged at her usual
occupation. Upon seeing him, she at once dropped
everything, and stood there gazing at her son as
though he were an apparition. Elva had spent nearly


58
BOND AND FREE.
all of the night, upon her knees, praying for the suc¬
cessful escape of her sons. She had believed them
to be, at that time, a safe distance from the old planta¬
tion. She did not utter a word, but her eyes con¬
veyed her astonishment. Joe broke the silence by
asking if she had seen Henry.
"Seen Henry!" Elva replied, "No, honey, what
does this mean ? "
He, thereupon, told her of their traveling all night,
to find themselves, the next morning, in Biggers'
corn-field. Elva bent her head in silence, and, look¬
ing up after a few seconds' meditation, rested her
large black eyes upon Joe, saying,
"Son, this must be all for the best. God had
something to do with this. The next time you'll
get away. Go home now, keep this to yourself, and
start again next Saturday night."
" Why," said Joe, " we was goin' to start agin to-
night."
"No," said Elva, "you would be missed in the
morning, and they would soon be upon your track,
and, perhaps, take you before you crossed the river.
Wait until next Saturday."
Whether it was fanaticism or superstition, Elva
was possessed with great confidence in the efficacy of
prayer. She had also reached a point in religious
fervor which, was termed among her friends, sanctifi-
cation; she felt that she was sanctified, and that God
revealed to her many things to which the unholy
were entirely blind. This religious fervor, or fanati-


A BAD START.
59
cism, brought her into prominence among her people.
When Sister, or Aunt, Elva bowed down in prayer,
everything was hushed in silence. She prayed con¬
stantly and persistently for the abolition of slavery.
She knew not how it would come, or when it would
come, but she contended that just as sure as the
children of Israel were led out of bondage, just so
sure would her people be free—a prediction which
poor Elva lived not to see fulfilled. Yet it has come.
It seems almost incredible that this woman of bond¬
age should have had so intelligent an understanding,
so appreciative a sense of the over-ruling power of
Providence, of the faithfulness with which His divine
predictions are carried out. But faith in God, con¬
fidence in His mercy, and trust in His power, are all
that kept up these poor creatures under the terrible
sufferings through which they passed. Ignorant as
they were of all other things, deprived of ail light to
lead their simple minds to a more complete knowledge
of the creation of all men free and equal, robbed of
all their manhood and womanhood, they yet hoped,
trusted, and prayed.
Elva was one of those creatures, as we have said,
possessed of splendid natural endowments, in which
predominated the holy spirit. Such prayers as she
uttered were simply marvelous; the language with
which she expressed herself, and the easy manner in
which it flowed from her lips, would have done
credit to many of our divines of to-day. Often she
would be found upon her knees in the midst of her


60
BOND AND FREE.
work, sending up one of her fervent petitions to
Heaven, nor was Joe surprised when his mother
seized his hand and bade him kneel by her side. She
clasped her hands together, and her lips moved for
some moments. At last she arose, Joe saying,
" Amen! " and hastening away.
He went to the village of M , and there met
several of the party of the previous night. He com¬
municated to them that the start would not be made
until later in the week, and that they were, in the
meantime, to arm themselves better and keep their
counsel.


CHAPTER VI.
The Escape.
The point from which Joe and his companions had
made their unsuccessful attempt at escape was situ¬
ated some fifteen miles from the Potomac river, and
seven miles from the town of D . The inten¬
tion was to reach the river before daylight, and, by
the aid of a guide, who, they understood, would
be at the river, they would be assisted across into the
State of Maryland through which they would have
but a short distance to travel to get into Pennsyl¬
vania, when they would be in a free State at least.
Runaway slaves had been assisted across the Poto¬
mac at various points, and directed by agents of what
was known as the Underground Railroad to freedom-
Numbers of them had also been betrayed by members
of their own race on both the Virginia and Mary¬
land sides of the Potomac. At the point where Joe
and his companions were to cross, they had engaged
the services of a man by the name of Charles John¬
son. Johnson belonged to a Mr. Kerwin, who owned
the only ferry-boat that crossed the river within
twenty miles of the place which they wanted to
reach. Mr. Kerwin possessed but a very small quota
of the large number of human beings held in bond¬
age. Charles and a girl about sixteen years of age
were all he owned. He drove, however, a thriving
(61)


62
BOND AND FREE.
business in catching runaway negroes and returning
them to their masters.
He had a very shrewd, but paying, way of con¬
ducting this nefarious business—capturing run¬
aways and concealing them until a large reward was
offered, when he would produce them and de¬
mand the reward. By this means, he had laid aside
quite a competency, -but being of a very miserly dis¬
position, carried on his negro-catching and ferrying,
taking passengers over at two cents a head. Instead
of investing his money in -negroes, whom he feared
might run away from him, he hoarded up all the
wealth he could secure without making any invest¬
ments. He had owned Charles for some time, and
had trained him in betraying and catching negroes
much as a shepherd trains his dog to catch runaway
sheep. Charles, whenever opportunity presented, got
into the secrets of all the slaves he could; and, under
pretense of assisting and guiding them safely over
the river, would betray them into the hands of
" niger-catchers "
This is the man with whom arrangements had been
made to conduct Joe and his party across the river
on the niglit of their unsuccessful attempt to escape.
Johnson had informed his master that several run¬
aways were to cross the river under his direction,
and Mr. Kerwin, with his usual readiness, had secured
the services of several men who loaned or hired them-
selves'out as " nigger-catchers." But, by the guidance
of some power unknown to themselves even, Joe'and


THE ESCAPE.
63
his companions, as we know, were kept from walking
into the lion's jaws. After traveling all night, in
place of being in the hands of " nigger catchers," they
found themselves standing in Biggers' corn-field gaz¬
ing at a white bull.
When Sam Lowrie, who formed one of the party,
related this to Joe, he was, with his friends, quite over¬
come with joy. Then he thought of the narrow es¬
cape from capture they had made and of his mother's
words. Perhaps Elva's prayers for protection had
been answered, perhaps not; but the result speaks
for itself.
The 'personnel of the little band of heroes, since a
week ago, when they attempted to escape, is consider¬
ably changed. Some had refused to make another
effort, thinking they would be captured; while others
thought their lucky escape from Johnson, thebetrayer,
and Mr. Kerwin, the ferryman, was ominous, and,
being naturally superstitious, declined all overtures
to make another attempt. The only ones of the
original band were Joe and his brother, Henry. The
number had been reduced to five. The change of
men was also decidedly in their favor, as every man
was a fighting man, and one in particular, Ben Myers,
was noted throughout the neighborhood forhis wonder¬
ful strength. Myers was quite a character, being in
stature a modern Goliah, with exceedingly large feet,
large hands, and very large lips, the latter so much
so that they interfered greatly with his articulation.
His speech was thick, his language bad, and, being


64
BOND AND FREE.
fond of whisky, he was a bad customer to come in
contact with at this particular time. The time hav¬
ing arrived for the start, Joe bade farewell to his
mother and sisters. Accompanied by his friends, he
set out upon his perilous journey. They traveled
along the road for several miles unmolested, and
when within about five miles of the ferry, they saw
at a distance, approaching them, a single horseman.
As Mr. Johnson had come near betraying them be¬
fore, the services of that worthy had not been en¬
gaged ; indeed, every precaution had been taken to
conceal all knowledge of their departure. The in¬
tention was to capture the ferry-boat and ferry them¬
selves across, knowing that no one but Johnson and
his master, who resided some half-mile from the ferry,
would be likely to interfere with them. In case of
such interference, either one or both of those gentle¬
men would be easily disposed of. When this lone
horseman was discovered, Joe gave the order, " Over
the fence, boys ! " They all obeyed, leaving Joe in
the road. As the horseman approached, Joe dis¬
covered that it was no less a person than the identi¬
cal Charles Johnson, the negro betrayer. He quietly
awaited Johnson's approach. When Johnson had
reached him, he stepped out in front of the horse, and
commanded the rider to halt.
Mr. Johnson did not know who Joe was, and was
thus at a disadvantage; as he had no idea of any
violence being meant him, he drew up his horse in
obedience to the command. Joe ordered him to dis-


THE ESCAPE.
65
mount, which command he was somewhat slow in
obeying. Joe, seeing that he hesitated, drew from his
pocket one of those long-barrelled pistols, which he
presented at Johnson's head, and again commanded
him to dismount. Johnson looked down the barrel
o£ the pistol, then looked at Joe, and seeing nothing
but a very wicked and determined look in his eye,
concluded he had better dismount, or this determined-
looking man might make a target of him, a thing he
had no desire for, as he was on his way to see his
best girl. Arriving speedily at this conclusion, he
quickly dismounted. Having alighted from his horse,
he began to wonder whether the man who stood be¬
fore him meant to steal his master's horse, or whether
he was playing him a joke. His mind was soon re¬
lieved.
Joe gave a low whistle. Over the fence leaped four
as stalwart and burly negroes as ever his eye beheld,
and whose combined value would have made the
heart of any "nigger-catcher" bound with joy. Joe
said, as the men made their appearance:
" Boys, this is Kerwin's Johnson, and he will take
us across the river."
Johnson looked somewhat amazed at this remark,
as well he might, so positively and coolly was it made.
He began, however, to set his wits to work at once.
Suspecting these men to be runaway slaves, he knew
that if he could but devise some plan to get away
from them and secure assistance, they could all be
captured.


66
BOND AJSTD FREE.
Assuming the guise of a friend, Tie said : "Boys,
you lay by in de field until I go on to town on dis
errand Mars Kerwin has sent me, and when I come
back, I'll take you across all safe."
Johnson's intention was too evident to Joe, who
quickly said,
"No, no, my boy, you can't mount dis hoss again,
and you can't go to town until you take us across de
river. I'se going to ride dis boss myself, and you
will move right down to de river."
At this, he jumped into the saddle, and turned the
horse around. Johnson was placed in front of the
party, and in this order the procession moved in the
direction of the river.
Having reached the river, Johnson was asked how
he was going to get them across. They agreed to
give him a half dollar for each man. He saw he
was entrapped, but he again resorted to strategy.
He said that there was no boat that could be
secured, unless they would go down to where the
ferry was.
Whereupon, Joe asked how far away was the ferry.
"'Bout half-mile," said Johnson.
"Now look here, Johnson," said Joe, shaking his
finger at the man in a warning manner, "you have
got to git us across dis river, and we want to cross
right here, so you just go git a boat and bring it
here."
Johnson was again frustrated, so he said : " I doesn't
know but one place to git a boat, and dat's just above


THE ESCAPE.
67
here; but de man lias two dogs and I'se afraid we
might git caught. Ilowsomever, if you say so, I'll
try and git the boat."
"All right," said Joe, "I'll trust you to go forde
boat, but mind you, no fooling."
Johnson started for the boat The men stared at
Joe, much surprised that Johnson was allowed to go
alone. They were directed to conceal themselves
among the rocks. Nothing had been said to John¬
son to lead him to suspect that they knew he was a
betrayer, and this seeming confidence partially dis¬
armed him. While he would have liked to have
been instrumental in their capture, he unhesitatingly
went and secured a boat, breaking it from its moor¬
ings.
In a short time, the men heard the barking of the
dogs, and Joe said: "Boys, he's there."
One of them suggested that, perhaps, he was re¬
turning with the dogs to capture them. Joe replied
that neither him nor the dogs would return alive if
that was the case. Soon there was heard the splash
of oars in the water; they looked out from their place
of concealment, and discovered Johnson in the boat
alone. He whistled, and they picked their way down
the bank and entered the boat.
There was but one man in the whole party who
had ever seen a boat, and he was the Widow Dean's
Jim. Jim, having traveled considerably with his
mistress, had seen many things which none of the
rest had. Some of my readers might just here want


68
BOND AND FREE.
to know why a man, having the privileges of Jim,
should want to leave a mistress so kind and indul¬
gent as the Widow Dean, and go out into the world
to assume responsibilities of which, by remaining in
slavery, he need never have known. He left a good
home, a generous-hearted mistress. He knew no care;
every day to him was the same. He had never been
whipped, it is true, and so far as his life had gone, it
had been a pleasant one; but Jim, nevertheless, real¬
ized that, with all these advantages so superior to
hundreds whom he knew, he was but a slave and
could be sold at any time, and doubtless would be
sold as a part of the estate when his good mistress
should die. So he thought he would risk all the
perils of running away to be a free man. Oh, free¬
dom, what a boon!
Under Jim's direction, they were safely conveyed
over the river. As they stepped upon the Maryland
shore, they breathed more easily, although they were
far from being in a free land.
Johnson was paid the promised fee of fifty cents
a man, which he greedily pocketed. He had ascer¬
tained, while crossing the river, that the runaways did
not know what direction to take. This he suspected
from the start. Upon arriving on the Maryland side,
he conceived the brilliant idea in his woolly head
that he would have ample chance of carrying out his
evil design of betraying his unfortunate brethern.
He had done the same thing before, and he was con¬
fident that he could do it again. This is what made


THE ESCAPE.
69
him go so submissively and get the boat, without
arousing the owner; it was that which made him so
civil and so talkative while crossing the river. The
brilliant, but not new, idea which struck Mr. Johnson
was, to land his party safely on the Maryland shore,
and send them in the direction of a tavern kept by a
Mr. Nagle, who attached to his business of caring for
travelers, both man and beast, the prolific business
of capturing runaway slaves. Many a runaway slave
had been captured by Mr. Nagle (and his coterie of
loafers who always hung about his place), and re¬
turned to their masters, then sold South.
Johnson felt perfectly secure in the belief that his
civility had thrown Joe and his party off their guard,
and thought it would be an easy matter to direct
them in the course which he desired. The party hav¬
ing landed, Joe said :
"Now, boys, what road shall we take?"
Without waiting for any one else to answer, John¬
son said,
" Why, I can tell you just what way to go. See
dat road dat leads up yonder? Well, just foller it
until you'se come to de Cross-Keys tavern, den
you'se take de road dat turns to de left, and you'll
reach de mountain."
Now, this was literally true, as it was the most di¬
rect course to the mountain. But there was as little
show for these men to pass the Cross Keys tavern
without being molested as it is possible for the per¬
formance of miracles by mortal man. Johnson knew


70
BOND AND FREE.
this very well, and repeated his instructions over
again, evidently fearing tliev might not be heeded.
Joe assured him that they were very grateful for his
advice, and, in rather a persuasive manner, suggested
that he had better take his boat and start for home.
The latter said that he did not intend to return the
boat to its owner, but, upon reaching his home, would
set it adrift.
The men began to grow impatient at the delay
caused by Joe and Johnson's conversation, and insist¬
ed upon moving on. Joe did not comply with their
request, for he was determined to see Johnson well
out in the river before he made any attempt to leave
the bank. He had already decided to take a differ¬
ent direction from the one indicated by Johnson, but
he desired to leave that worthy under the impression
that implicit confidence was placed in his word. Ben
Myers, to whom we have had occasion to refer before,
was impatiently walking up and down the river bank
growling like a caged beast. That portion of Mr.
Myers' body which rested on the ground was encased
in a very dilapidated pair of brogans, which were un¬
fastened, while on his arm he carried a very large and
heavy pair of new boots. His inseparable whisky
bottle was beginning to grow empty, and he was much
afraid that he would be taken with a dry spell before
they reached the tavern. He took off the dilapidated
straw hat which covered his head, raised his bottle
to his lips, and drained the last drop of its contents
down his throat. Smacking his lips with evident sat-


THE ESCAPE.
71
isfaction and drawing the back of his hand across his
mouth, he was then in an excellent disposition to
growl.
So he said, in his thick speech:
" Look har, Joe, if you gwine to trabel any fudder,
why don't you come on ? You'se worse den a fly
'round lasses." "Myers," said Joe, "dem old shoes
and dat whisky bottle will git you into trouble yet.7'
Myers gazed at Joe in a stupid kind of way, and
replied: u Dat's all right, I'se gwine to git dat bottle
filled soon's I git to dat tabern, and I wants to git
dar soon."
Johnson had not yet gotten into his boat, and Joe
was somewhat at a loss what to do. Seeing that their
guide was loath to part with them, he said:
"Johnson, I think, as we are done with you, you
had better cross de river. If you dont start soon,
day light will catch you, and somebody will see you
with dat stolen boat"
Johnson knew this was true. He had no desire to be
caught with a stolen boat, for if he failed to entrap
these runaways, he might have difficulty in explain¬
ing his absence and the use he had been making of
the boat So telling Joe that he guessed he was right,
Mr. Johnson very loathfully parted company with
the party, and began to row himself back into slavery,
where he would be useful in betraying those of his
race, whom he would be fortunate enough to meet
while running for freedom.
Joe watched the boat until it was well out into the


72
BOND AND FREE.
river, and turning to his companions, he said, "Boj's,
we will not pass dat tabern, for if we do, we may all
be captured. I heard of dat place before."
These remarks brought about a disagreement;
Henry, Joe's brother, insisted on going the direction
pointed out by Johnson. In this he was ably second
ed by Myers, whose desire to reach the tavern and
fill his bottle over-reached the little discretion he po-
sessed. Joe finally covninced them of the foolhardi-
ness of such a thing, and consequently carried his
point


CHAPTER VII.
Attacked.
The reader cannot help but discover by this time
that, as a leader, Joe was quite a success, using a vast
amount of tact and forethought for which the casual
observer would never have given him credit He
was probably the most determined one in the whole
party upon securing freedom. His brother, Henry,
was, on the other hand, timid and shy, lacking the
resolution which Joe possessed; but, when awakened
to a full realization of what was expected of him,
never hesitated to perform his duty.
Mr. Nagle, the keeper of the Cross Keys tavern,
kept upon his place, to assist him in tracking and
catching runaway slaves, besides a number of loafers
ever ready to engage in this nefarious business, two
keen-scented and ferocious bloodhounds, and had Joe
given way to the importunities of Henry and Myers,
every one of the party would have been captured by
Mr. JSTagle, his loafers, and his bloodhounds. As it
was, they took a different direction, and traveled
through the State of Maryland without a single excit¬
ing incident. Having crossed the Pennsylvania line
and after having traveled, perhaps, some thirty-odd
miles, they left the road for consultation. Retiring into
a woods, they discussed the question of traveling by
daylight; they had hitherto been traveling only at
(.73)


74
BOND AND FREE.
night, and during the day had concealed themselves.
It was finally decided to travel by day, as they were
in Pennsylvania, which, they understood, was a free
State, and the likelihood of being molested did not
give them any apprehension.
Now, could these men have had recourse to those
great resources of information, the newspapers, or if
they could have kept track of the political events of
the day, they would have been more apprehensive of
their safety in this presumably free State. This is
not a record of political events, and we shall not
undertake to give any detailed account of the steps
which led to the enactment of a law, making every
white man of the North a blood hound and negro-
hunter for the white men of the South. The Consti¬
tution of the country was prostituted for more than
a century by the men who favored, supported, and
encouraged slavery. Those high in authority, who
submitted to the demands of the South, in her vigor¬
ous efforts to extend and protect slavery, have long
since met with the just condemnation of all honest
men. The effort to make the people of the North
servants to the people of the South, in aiding them
to secure their runaway slaves, was only too success¬
ful ; and, when the free people of this great country
found that the man holding the highest position in
the gift of the Nation was an abettor and sympa¬
thizer in the extension and protection of slavery, they
shed many bitter tears. The Fugitive Slave Act,
which permitted a man to prove his property in any


ATTACKED.
75
part of the United States and take it, also making
the man who refused to aid in this nefarious business
a criminal before the law, was now in existence.
When the Old World learned of the birth of a New
Nation, there was great rejoicing. Its still, small
voice was heard to proclaim that " every man was
born free and equal," yet it took neaily a century and
a bloody civil contest to establish firmly its first pro-
nunciamento.
We say, had these fugitives been acquainted with
the political events of the country, they would not
have been surprised at experiencing their first repulse
in free Pennsylvania.
Having already gotten some distance within the
borders of the State without molestation, they traveled
along in gay spirits, their minds fixed upon gaining
liberty. At a considerable distance ahead of them,
they saw several men engaged in building a barn.
Joe at once directed them to answer any question put
to them as to their destination by saying, that they
were bound for the springs as waiters. They ap¬
proached the barn-builders fearlessly, and, upon reach¬
ing them, were asked by one of the workmen where
they were going. Joe, in reply, answered, " To de
springs to wait table, sar."
There were, perhaps, some twenty men engaged at
work upon the barn. It was what is called a build¬
ing-bee—an economical plan farmers had of expedi¬
ting work. Working bees of all kinds were numer¬
ous. Moving-bees, corn-husking, fruit-parings, etc.,


76
BOND AND FREE.
were done by a farmer inviting his neighbors to
assist him. When the work was finished, a big din¬
ner was served, and the country lass and lad would
help digestion by a good old-fashioned dance. Joe's
answer to the question of the workmen appeared to
satisfy them.
Among the few privileges enjoyed by some slaves
was that of hiring their own time from their masters;
in such cases, they were permitted to seek employ¬
ment at whatever they saw fit to engage. Many of
them were employed at the various summer resorts
as waiters, and would travel on foot in search of em¬
ployment To their masters they paid so much of
their earnings as was demanded of them, and the
rest was spent, generally, in riotous living, but in a
few instances was used to purchase their freedom.
Having passed the barn-builders unmolested, they
had proceeded but a short distance when they were
overtaken by a man seated upon a gray horse. The
individual accosted them with a salutation. He was
tall and lank, with a dark complexion, a nose much
resembling the beak of a bird, a pair of exceedingly
long limbs, which dangled below the body of the
horse. His eyes were perfectly gray, while his lip
appeared as though drawn up to meet his nose, ex¬
posing two very large teeth, and giving him the ap¬
pearance of a hungry jackal, while his dress was that
of a sheep drover. Drawing in the lines which hung
on the pommel of his saddle, he inquired where they
were going. Joe gave him the same reply he had


ATTACKED.
77
given the barn-builders, but did not get rid of him
quite so easily.
The rider eyed them closely, as he said: "Ain't you
rather early for the springs ? "
Joe answered: " Yes, sar, a little early, but we want
to be in good time."
"Where are jou from?" asked the stranger.
"Philadelphia," replied Joe.
Now, where Joe got his knowledge of Philadel¬
phia, it is hard to say ; unless from the fact that he
was told that they were on the Philadelphia pike.
The geographical knowledge of the entire party could
not have located any such place. Henry, who had
been standing to one side of the road eyeing the
rider's horse, and noticing it to be somewhat lame,
came forward, and said : '
"Your horse's got a ringbone."
"Yes," said the rider, "and I would give a hun¬
dred dollars to have it cured."
"I can cure it," said Henry.
" Then you are the man I am looking for. I will
pay your expenses at the next inn, and give you
twenty-five dollars in the bargain if you cure him."
Henry had a fair knowledge of horses, and was
not making a vain boast when he told the stranger
that he could cure the horse.
Joe was a listener to the conversation, and was
afraid his brother would stop to accept the offer. He
was not altogether pleased with the man's manner,
as he had, generally, but little confidence in white men.


78
BOND AND FREE.
He held liis peace, however, but concluded not to
allow his brother to accept the man's proposition.
Joe finally said, after having walked some distance,
the rider keeping his horse at a walking pace:
" Ain't you a sheep drover? "
" Yes," said the man. " Why? "
" Oh, nothing, only I thought so from de clothes
you wear."
This was not what Joe really thought, for after
having closely inspected the man, it came to him like
a dream that he had seen him before. He had seen
this very man purchasing sheep from a man with
whom he once lived, and he knew that in addition
to driving sheep he also drove slaves, that he had
caught a number of runaway slaves, for which he
had been well rewarded.
The man on horse back then said: " Don't you men
want to make a little money? You are a little early
for the springs, and I want about a half-dozen men
to help me to gather some sheep through the country
and drive them to market If you want the job, I
will pay each of you fifty cents a day."
Joe knew that the man was only talking to pass
the time, as they were fast nearing a little village
where, he surmised, it was the intention of the stran¬
ger to obtain assistance and endeavor to capture them.
Answering for the party, he said: "No, sar, we
want to keep on trabelin', and don't want to stop."
Whereupon, the stranger said: " Well, good day,"
and galloped off at a rapid pace, his legs dangling on


ATTACKED.
79
either side of his horse. They saw him stop at some
distance ahead of them and engage in conversation
with a woman standing at a gate. When the party
got within hearing distance of the rider and woman,
they heard the stranger say, u Tell them to come on
as fast as they can, and meet me at the Lion's Head."
Joe said: "Boys, dar's trouble ahead. We can't
leave de road ; dar's a town ahead, and we must pass
through it, so git ready to fight."
The irascible Mr. Myers, the gentleman of large
feet, large hands, and large mouth, with a large love
for the ardent, had been discontented and greatly out
of humor ever since Joe's refusal to pass Mr. Nagle's
hostelrie. His bottle had been emptied for some
time, and the desire for something more ardent than
water had put him in very bad humor, making him
very ugly. He still carried his new boots thrown
carelessly over his shoulder, while his stringless,
tongueless, and thoroughly dilapidated shoes partly
covered his enormous feet.
When Joe said they would have to fight, Myers
growled out, " Ise gwine to hab dis bottle filled at
dat tabrn, if I has to walk ober de body ob some
white man to git it."
Joe again repeated his warning that Mvers' bottle
and shoes would yet get him in trouble.
" Never mind me, honey," was his reply. " No
white man's gwine to weary dese bones widout liearin'
dem crack." As Myers said this he took a hitch at
his pantaloons, rolled an enormous quid of tobacco to


ATTACKED.
81
Mr. Myers' face was wreathed in smiles, as he tossed
off several good stiff drinks of old corn-juice. Whis¬
ky was cheap then. A man could get three drinks of
better liquor for the same amount that he has to pay
now for one. Myers did not neglect to fill his bottle,
which he stowed away in a pocket of his dilapidated
coat After drinking, they all stood upon the little
balcony which surrounded the inn. The stranger
who had shown such kindness stepped out upon the
balcony and said to Henry: "Now, my young man,
show me how to cure that ringbone." Henry walked
out to the horse, and began to display his knowledge
of curing the ills of dumb animals. Joe walked out
into the road, and, as he looked toward the black¬
smith's shop, he saw the smith and his assistant
armed with stout pieces of iron, while up the road
came about a dozen men provided with sticks, clubs,
stones, and whatever other implements they could
procure.
He shouted, "Boys, look behind you!" Henry
glanced over his shoulder, at once dropped the horse's
foot, and made a break for the road. Joe took to a
field, and the rest of the runaways scattered in differ¬
ent directions. Liquor had so far overcome the
senses of Myers that he was grabbed by the affable
stranger, the rider of the ringbone horse, who in¬
formed him that he was a runaway and he was going
to return him to his master. Myers partly opened
his eyes, and was rather slow in taking in the situa-
6


82
BOND AND FREE.
tion. He had, however, retained liis hold upon his
club, which he grasped more firmly, and said:
" Look, heah, white man, let me go."
The rider of the ringbone horse said: ''Yes,
I'll let you go, you d—d nigger," and, as if to
assure Myers of his attention, tightened his grip on
his collar. Myers raised his club and brought it
down on the arm of his captor. The rider of the
ringbone horse relinquished his hold without being
1pld the second time, and that member of his anatomy
dropped limp and lifeless at his side, while he gave
utterance to a howl which would have done justice to
a cayote. Myers put off at a rapid rate, with stones
flying after him, and all the dogs and men in the
place close upon his heels. His slipshod shoes and
the whisky he had imbibed greatly retarded his
progress. He ran very swiftly, however, and, reach¬
ing a hill, he attempted to ascend it, but lost his foot¬
ing and fell. In a moment a half-dozen men were
upon him; they quickly secured and bound him
with a rope, and marched him back to the inn trium¬
phantly.
He was placed upon a bench at the door, while his
captors withdrew to decide how to dispose of him.
They knew that a large reward would be offered for
him, for he was worth fully fifteen or eighteen hun¬
dred of any man's money. Sam Blythe, a big-boned,
double-jointed fellow, had been left to do guard duty
over Myers. Blythe walked up and down in front of
him, thinking he was so securely bound that he would


ATTACKED.
88
not attempt to escape, and depended upon his own
ability to prevent him should he make any such at¬
tempt. Seeing the captive move about rather uneasily,
he walked up to Myers, and said :
" See here, nigger, none of yer shines around here.
If you don't keep quiet, I will thump your head.
Do ye hear? "
Myers said nothing, but jumped to his feet, with
a superhuman effort freed his hands, and dealt Blythe
a blow that sent that worthy sprawling into the road,
and made him swallow a quid of tobacco that came
near choking him to death. With a bound like a
deer, Myers made for the nearest field and cleared the
fence, having left his much-worn shoes on the hotel
porch as a memento for the disappointed "nigger-
catchers."'
Leaving our band of runaways to proceed on their
journey to freedom, after this escapade, separated
and divided as they now were, let us return to the
Maxwell plantation, and see what changes the fickle
goddess of fortune has wrought.


CHAPTER VIII.
Two IIappy Fathers.
Events on the Maxwell plantation now begin to
change, as events will in life. Jonathan continued
prosperous and successful, the loss of Joe and Henry
soured his disposition and aroused a spirit of hatred
toward his half-sister, Purcey, whom he believed had
aided and abetted in the escape of her brothers. At
one time, he had partly made up his mind to sell
Purcey, but the prospect of her giving birth to a
child at an early period deterred him in his intention.
Had he not married her to William McCullar for this
very purpose? It was not likely, then, that Jona¬
than Maxwell would allow his hatred of the girl to
exceed his love of increased wealth.
Large rewards had been offered for both Joe and
Henry, but in vain, as they had both made good their
escape into freedom. Notwithstanding the great
value they were to their master, Jonathan never con¬
descended to mention to Purcey or Elva his feelings,
but had put them through a most searching investi¬
gation as to their knowledge of the runaways. Both
so successfully pleaded ignorance as to their where¬
abouts or any knowledge of the intention of the boys
to escape, that he soon gave up the idea of learning
anything from them. He, however, as we have said,
(84)


THE HAPPY FATHERS.
85
offered a handsome reward for their capture, and, in
company with Mr. Biggers and the others who were
the losers of so many dollars and cents, by the sudden
and unceremonious departure of their alleged prop¬
erty, organized a "nigger" hunting party. Accom¬
panied by several blood hounds, they set out in
speedy but useless pursuit. The runaways had such
a start that they were far out of reach of their pur¬
suers, even before they got under way. The party
returned home in a few days, after the unsuccessful
effort to capture the runaways, and Jonathan Max¬
well settled down to make up for the loss of Joe and
Henry as best he could. Mr. Biggers cursed louder
and drove his slaves harder, while their meager rations
reached almost ad infinitum.
William and Purcey enjoyed life, happy in each
other's society, indeed, forgetting all about the hard¬
ness of their lot, and utterly oblivious of the fact
that nothing of them was free except their souls.
Their time, their bodies, it seemed their very happi¬
ness, belonged to Jonathan Maxwell; and they must
act in obedience to his commands whenever he saw
fit now to exercise his prerogative as master. He
believed within his heart that Purcey, or her mother,
had been instrumental in the escape of the two boys,
and he concluded that to leave William upon the
place subject to such influence would ultimately re¬
sult in his escape also. Not wishing to sell him just
at this time, he resorted to the next most profitable


86
BOND AND FREE.
thing, and hired him out some distance from Lome to
a severe master.
Jake Withers, to whom William was hired, was the
rival of Abraham Biggers in meanness and cruelty.
He was known to be so conniving and penurious as to
have picked up a few grains of wheat found in the
field after cutting, and put them into his pocket until
he reached the granary. He was known to have kicked
a little negro child over a four rail fence, because of
its plucking a few flowers out of his garden. He had
not as much feeling for a negro as he had for a mule.
He allowed those about him no holidays. Over those
whom he hired from other masters he had complete
control, and those whom he owned belonged to him,
in his estimation, body and soul. William was now
made to feel, for the first time, what it was to be mar¬
ried and yet have no wife. He was several miles
from Purcey, and could only visit her after finishing
his work at night, and was compelled to be back at
his post before day-break. The first bitter dregs of
his cup of woe he began to taste. His wife, night
after night, lay awake watching the hours, while he
obtained a short rest preparatory to his return to his
labors. More than a year had now passed since their
marriage, and Providence saw fit to bless, or, in a
sense, curse them with a son. William, entirely un¬
mindful of his situation, felt that natural pride ex¬
perienced by most fathers over their first-born.
About the same time, Jonathan Maxwell also be¬
came the father of a son ; but his happiness, having


THE HAPPY FATHERS.
87
wealth and freedom, did not exceed that of William
McCullar in poverty and bondage.
Purcey became the nurse of Jonathan's offspring,
as custom decreed. No lady of Southern blood ever
condescended to raise her own child. On the con¬
trary, it was invariably entrusted to the care of a
negro nurse, who suckled it from her breast with all
the tenderness of a mother; and she was expected to
rear and mature with care the very child that would,
perhaps, some day raise its hands to stripe her back,
or set a price upon her head, and sell her as it would
any other chattel. It might have been among the
many providential things for this child of Jonathan
Maxwell to have suckled some of the milk of human
kindness from the bosom of this black nurse. It seems
that nature itself would have engrafted some of the
seeds of human love for her who so tenderly nour¬
ished it, watched over it, and relieved its mother of
all the cares of its early childhood. But this was
custom, this was duty: what Purcey did for Jona¬
than's child Elva had done for Jonathan; and thou¬
sands of the most cruel slave-holders have been
reared at the breast of those whom they afterward
made suffer the tortures of slavery. There have
been those in this world who have been called in-
grates, but what shall we call those who fed upon the
bosom of a human being, suckled themselves into
existence, were nursed with tenderness and care, then
striped the back which bent so often over them in
anxiety?


88
BOND AND FREE.
William McCullar, the slave-father, gave to his
child the promise of an inheritance of servitude, of
serving a living master, deprived of manhood, de¬
prived of knowledge, with no hope for the present,
and in future life, perhaps, to curse bittterly the
mother that gave him birth; while Jonathan Max¬
well, the free father, gave to his child the inheritance
of a rich estate, knowledge, bright hopes for the
future, with possibly no care for the past Such are
the circumstances under which these two children enter
the world. But an over-ruling Providence guided
the footsteps of the one, while an over-ruling passion
directed those of the other; and their lives were as
entirely diversified as was their birth. It will be re¬
membered that Elva had interposed but a single ob¬
jection to the marriage of Purcey, and when you re¬
member the excellent judgment of the woman, her
objection will not be looked upon as unreasonable.
Objections are often raised by parents against their
daughters' entering into the bonds of matrimony, and
often are they well founded; but in few instances are
they respected. With Elva it was no vain thought.
It was not because she feared an unequal match, but,
as she told William when he informed her of his
purchase by Jonathan Maxwell, that she detested
the idea of such a marriage, because his children
would be born slaves. This is why she objected;
and from the day it took place, she constantly kept
before Purcey the horrifying idea of Master Jona¬
than's changing disposition, which might lead to his


THE HAPPY FATHERS.
89
separating the mother and child by selling.one or
the other. And well she might, for it was not long
before a most unusual change took place in the Max¬
well household.
Mrs. Maxwell's health began to fail her after the
birth of her son, and the family physician directed
that she travel. Purcey was selected to accompany
her, and attend young Master Archie. This was the
command, and nothing was left her but to obey. Her
child, her husband, and her mother—all had to be
left that her mistress might find restored health in
another clime. All preparations were made for the
journey, and bidding farewell to all that was dear to
her, Purccy set out upon the journey with her mis¬
tress. Mrs. Maxwell's failing health did not improve
her disposition, which was none of the sweetest at
best, and the many annoyances she gave Purcey
caused the girl to shed many a bitter tear. While
upon this journey, she determined, upon her return,
to make her escape with her husband and child into
freedom.
Master Archie grew into a bright-eyed, yellow-
haired, spiteful little fellow, developing much of his
father's haughtiness and pride, and all of his mother's
hatefulness. To his nurse he was impudent, and
often, in a passion, struck her with his little list, an
offense for which Purcey dared not correct him, and
at which his mother only laughed. They were absent
for many months, which seemed to Purcey years,
and when Mrs. Maxwell, feeling that her health was


90
BOND AND FREE.
greatly.improved, set her face toward home, Purcey's
heart leaped for joy. Her long separation from her
husband and child made her feel keenly what misery
would be hers should either be sold. Consolation
came to her, however, under the present circum¬
stances, as a sweetened draught, from the fact that
she would soon see them.
During her long absence, she had no communica¬
tion whatever, from her child or husband. No letters
had come to assure her of their health and love, not
even a word. For while Purcey could manage to
write intelligibly herself, she knew that there was no
one at home to read her letters to William. Who
can imagine what this feeling must be, separated from
those we love most dear, knowing that the means of
communication are accessible, but from the want of
the knowledge to interpret one's thoughts and feel¬
ings, to be comparatively consumed in the fire of de¬
sire for a message, but a word, to receive or give,
but a single sign of the inward passion ! Confine
a person in prison where the custom deprives
him of intercourse with the outside world, he
gradually submits to such restriction; but when left
to enjoy the open air, to gaze upon the brightness
and the beauty of nature, free to breathe the balmy air
of Heaven, yet unable to communicate with those he
loves, there is a suffering which words cannot depict
This was one of the few sufferings through which
Purcey passed. Strong and proud as she was, it
weakened her and brought her to a keener realiza-


92
BOND AND FREE.
desire, a partition had been erected in the gallery of
his church, through which holes had been made, and
the black servants of his own, as well as those of
many of the members of his church, assembled, and
listened to the glowing words of the great divine.
When the audience behind the partition was very
large, Rev. Dr. Joseph Partington always addressed
a word to them concerning their obedience to their
masters. This great moral duty he never failed to
impress upon their hearing, and there was no passage
of the Scripture that he ever quoted so expressly for
their benefit. The owner himself of some ten or
fifteen human creatures, whom he took great pains to
deprive of the least opportunity to learn a letter or
see a book, he held them down to a rigid observance
of his orthodox views of religion and slavery. Eev.
Joseph believed that the institution of slavery was
of and by divine consent. Whether he believed it
or not, he preached it and taught it. Believing this,
whether honestly or not, he was compelled to put in
practice the most stringent rules for its support and
advancement. He was not unlike ministers who are
never at loss to find a passage of Scripture in support
of the most radical of views.
He believed that when a servant disobeyed, that
servant should be punished, the punishment to be in¬
flicted according to the judgment of the master.
Consequently, whenever Rev. Joseph Partington's
servants disobeyed him, or parted from his extremely
orthodox views, he never punished them himself.


THE HAPPY FATHERS.
93
That would be lowering his ministerial dignity; it
would probably discompose his mind in the composi¬
tion of a sermon on the sufferings of Christ for man¬
kind, or, "Letgodly love fill thy bosom." No! Rev.
Joseph never punished any of his servants. The
nearest approach to summary punishment he had
ever been known to administer, was to hit one of his
female servants so hard a blow in the mouth as to
cause her teeth, to cut "through her Lip in such a
manner as to disfigure her for life; but this was done
in a moment of passion, and was a pardonable offense.
No! Rev. Joseph never punished that is, he never
performed any such laborious task himself. He,
however, approved of it. He believed in the appli¬
cation of the lash to the back of a negro as sincerely
as he believed in no "justification without faith," or
the Spirit moving from within. So when any of
his servants were to be punished, he always sent the
recalcitrant to the town jail with a note couched
somewhat in these terms:
" Strike bearer on naked back nine and thirty blows."
Db. Pabtington.
N. B. Well laid on.
This was the manner by which Rev. Dr. Partington
eased his conscience and enforced discipline among
his servants. His tender and humane heart could
never have suffered to see a human being writhing
under the sting of the lash. It would have reminded
him too much of Him of whom he preached so much,
whose untold sufferings for all mankind the Reverend


94:
BOND AND FREE.
portrayed with such earnestness and sincerity. Such
was the father of Mrs. Maxwell. The woman was
raised from childhood to think, to act, to understand,
that a negro possessed none of the higher attributes
of mankind. Then, let us make whatever allowance
we can for her utter disregard of any feeling of
anxiety displayed by Purcey.
It seems to be a woman's province to bear up
under the greatest sufferings, particularly in the
presence of those whom she knows have no sympa¬
thy for her. Purcey had been with Mrs. Maxwell
long enough to know that there was no sympathy, or
a touch of kindness for her in the bosom of her
mistress. During the many months they had been
absent from home, not once had she ever given the
slightest intimation that she knew Purcey had a
husband and child, nor would Purcey make any in¬
quiry of her, thinking, perhaps, it was useless, as she
did *not suppose anything would be said about her
loved ones by Jonathan. She controlled herself as
best she could, praying constantly that the nights
and days might be shortened, and the time speedily
come for her to return home. It did come at last,
and it seemed that each fleeting hour bade her hasten.


CHAPTER IX.
A Novel Stake.
When Jonathan's wife left home to benefit her
health, he, as a true Southern gentleman would do,
gave himself up to such pleasures as men find in one
another's society. He attended several card parties, in¬
dulged in a little of that great American game of draw
poker, and passed the time partly with rod and gun,
just as it suited his fancy. Jonathan was an excellent
horseman, and had taken the brush at many a fox
hunt. He had accepted several invitations to stag
parties, and had entertained several gentlemen at his
own residence. His social circle was confined to a
select few, for we know that Jonathan Maxwell was
a man who did not condescend to take everybody
upon a level with him, or seek social prominence.
One of his most particular friends was Judge Jere.
Coleman. Judge Coleman was what might be called
a man of the world; he was, it is true, of aristocratic
birth, and had been possessed of immense wealth.
He had traveled extensively through Europe, had
represented one of the Virginia districts in Congress,
where he made for himself an enviable reputation as
a warm defender of the extension of slavery into the
Territories. Being a large slave-holder himself, and
an able lawyer, his advocacy of spreading the evil of
slavery won for him such laurels that, when he re-
[95]


96
BOND AND FREE.
turned home to his constituents, there was no posi¬
tion within their gift to which they would not have
elevated hirn.
He however, contented, himself with an appoint¬
ment to the highest judicial position in the State,
which position he filled with credit, until a disposi¬
tion to travel possessed him, when he resigned his
position and set out on an extensive tour through the
old countries. While away from home, he spent
much of his time and much of his money at the card-
table. There was not a place in Europe noted for its
gaming attractions that Judge Coleman had not visited
and tried his fortune against the uncertainty of cards.
Monte Carlo, Brighton, Baden Baden, and all of the
famous gaming places of foreign countries were visit¬
ed by him. He returned home, after a long absence,
broken in health and in fortune; but despite this, he
had lost none of his Southern chivalry, and his name
was still Judge Coleman. So, from his former aristo¬
cratic position, and the desire of his friends to respect
him for what he had been, he still had access to those
exclusive Southern circles in which only gentlemen
of honor were recognized. Jonathan had always ad¬
mired the judge and thought that Judge Coleman ad¬
mired him. He saw nothing objectionable in selecting
a man of this type for a close companion, who had onlv
run through a fortune which his father had made, and
was given to those vices so common to men of Judge
Coleman's calibre. Judge Coleman still had the name
which, at one time, to mention was to make men un-


A NOVEL STAKE.
97
cover with respect. He was honorable and chivalrous,
and, all in all, was a "deuced good fellow," as Jona¬
than would often remark.
Judge Coleman, Jonathan Maxwell, and a party
of friends had withdrawn from the dining-room of
the Maxwell homestead to the drawing-room, after a
sumptuous dinner, for the purpose of enjoying a
smoke and indulging in a social game of draw poker.
Southern gentlemen have ever been, and, perhaps, will
be ( until that particular class of Americans known
by this distinctive appellation become extinct) pas¬
sionately fond of poker. In the flourishing days of
slavery, the steamboats, the railroads, the summer
resorts, the winter resorts, all furnished retreats for
these gentlemen to engage in this favorite pastime.
Many black men and women, oftentimes children,
have changed masters over the card-table. There
was nothing strange about this, a negro being just as
good collateral as a Government bond, a horse, or a
gold watch. He had his value, was transferable,
and was always a ready sale, easily converted into
cash. So when a Southern gentleman ran short of
cash at the card-table, it was no unusual custom for
him to put up his servant as collateral. A person
can go and receive money on an old coat, or a watch,
or any other thing of value. Why, then, should a
man refuse to accept as a bonus a human being
that was actually so many dollars and cents ? It
must not be supposed that a man who had paid so
dearly for his experience as Judge Coleman had


98
BOND AND FKEE.
was not very clever with the cards. Such a supposi¬
tion would not only be unjust to the man, but would
make false the assertion, " Experience is the best
teacher.'' He was indeed very clever, and before
that social game ended, he had won a large amount of
money, besides the husband of Purcey, William Mc-
Cullar, and it happened in this way : The entire party
had indulged very freely in wine, both at and after
dinner, and when they seated themselves at the table
to play a social game, they grew rather reckless as to
the stakes. After Jonathan had lost what money he
had about his person, he said :
"Judge, I'll play you for any nigger I have on the
place, against your winnings."
"It's a go," replied Judge Coleman.
The game was played amidst much merriment, and
the judge, of course, won. Jonathan told him to se¬
lect whatever servant he wanted, and the judge, not.
to be too particular, selected the negro man who had
performed the service of waiting upon them. This
man was William, who, having finished his service
with the master to whom he had been hired, had
been installed waiter in his proper master's house.
Judge Coleman had really no use for a servant,
nor had he any intention of keeping one. He had
possessed a large number of them at one time, but
then he was a large land-owner, and made good use
of them. There was but one use he could make of
William, and that was to convert him into cash. So
he said to Jonathan: " Maxwell, I don't want that nig-


A NOVEL STAKE.
99
ger, give me a thousand dollars and keep him." If
Jonathan Maxwell had not been under the influence
of liquor, knowing the man as we do, we should
naturally have thought that he would have accepted
this offer; but it must also be remembered that a
word passed by a Southern gentleman, whether at
the card-table or the counting-table, was considered
as binding and irrevocable as the word of man could
be.
Jonathan Maxwell, under the excitement of a game
of cards, had chanced off, in round cash, two thousand
dollars. To be sure it was only a poor black slave,
a husband and a father, a man with a heart and soul,
a being that could feel, could see, could taste, that
felt the same cold and the same heat his master did.
But what cared this master, what thought had he of
a slave possessing such sensibilities! He only knew
that he had bought him ; the law of the land protected
him in his ownership, and made his title as clear to
the possession of this human being as it did to his
acres of land. And when Judge Coleman offered to
return the man, not out of sympathy for him, but be¬
cause the cash would be more advantageous, not be¬
cause he did not know that he could obtain that
amount in any slave market, or from any negro tra¬
der, but because lie thought his host would accept
back, after a second consideration, the impulsive wa¬
ger. Jonathan was obdurate, and insisted, as the
judge had fairly won, he should take the man.
William had no knowledge that he had been bar-


100
BOND AND FREE.
tered away to a new master, and perhaps it was all
the better he did not, for, having been separated from
his wife for months and months, the probability of
never seeing her again would have, perhaps, driven
the poor fellow frantic. Judge Coleman remained
as a guest at the Maxwell house, consequently noth¬
ing was said to William about the change which
would take place when the judge's visit terminated-
A fear that he might attempt to run away was one
reason, and as the judge had not bought him in a
very business-like manner, he did not like to confine
him in the town jail, as was the custom when buy¬
ing up slaves.
Since the departure of Mrs. Maxwell, Elva had the
entire oversight of the house. She was allowed, or
took, many privileges that were denied to the other
servants, which gave her an opportunity to know
much of her master's doings. She presided over the
culinary department, where she permitted no intru¬
sion, For some reason, Jonathan had for her a pe¬
culiar respect or awe. And why did Jonathan
Maxwell have this peculiar feeling? Had not his
mother, upon her dyingbed, taught him to hate her?
Did he not own her as absolutely as any slave upon
his place? Was he not fully aware that this woman
had given birth to a child of which his father was
also the father? Then why should he have this pe¬
culiar feeling? Was it because he had nursed at her
breast? Was it because,in his-childhood days, this
slave-woman had humored his whims, nursed him


A NOVEL STAKE.
101
tenderly, and, when almost at death's door with a dan¬
gerous fever he had contracted, she, by tenderness
and care, had brought back the flickering flame of life
which had at one time almost left him, or was it be¬
cause he had inherited this awe or respect from his
father? There are certain innate qualities which men
inherit; whatever other qualities they cultivate, traces
of the hereditary are evident.
Jonathan's father was one of a numerous class of
Southern slave-holding gentlemen who carried on a
criminal and illicit intimacy with his slaves. This
brutish desire might Lave been the incarnation of
Satan, or the outcome of a curse, put upon them by
an overruling power, that they should bruise and
maltreat their own flesh and blood. Whatever it
was, we shall give Jonathan's father credit for desist¬
ing, as we have said before, from abusing the woman
who was both his slave and his mistress. Elva had
always held a wonderful influence over the father
of Jonathan. He could never withstand the awful
gaze of those lustrous black eyes. The secret of
the influence which she held over the father died
with him; but the son inherited its effect without
fully realizing the cause.
Elva made it her business to watch' everything
that occured about the Maxwell house, not for her
master's benefit, nor to be a tale-bearer to her mistress,
but for her own satisfaction. She slept in the house,
but had made it a rule for years never to retire un¬
til every person in the house had done so. Often,


102
BOND AND FREE.
with her stealthy step, had she stolen through the
house and listened at her master's door. More than
once had young master Jonathan come home late at
night, partly intoxicated, and found her crouched
in a corner upon the steps close to his father's door.
When questioned as to what she was doing there,
she would invariably answer, "Waiting for you,
massa Johnnie." The woman seemed scarcely ever
to sleep. Come in or go out whatever hour you
would, those large, black, speaking eyes could be seen,
open, undimmed, and unwearied. What were the
temptations that entered the woman's mind, when
the man who owned her body and had dishonored her
slept in apparent calm repose ? Often was she tempt¬
ed to redden her hands in his blood and attempt to
free herself and all of her children from bondage.
But when she thought how useless such a thing
would be, that although she might kill her master
and no suspicion rest upon her, she decided to use
greater discretion; though had Jonathan's father
been the hydra-headed monster of slavery, this
woman, in her fanaticism, her religious fervor, would
have easily been worked up to believe herself the
saviour of her race, and would have strangled the mon¬
ster without a thought of the consequence. Elva
never resigned her watchfulness after the death of
her old master, but continued it; and had Jonathan
Maxwell taken a second thought when he lost Wil¬
liam McCullar, his slave, at a game of cards, he might
have known that the transaction was seen and heard


A NOVEL STAKE.
103
by this astute woman. Elva evidently felt it her busi¬
ness to know everything that occurred in that house,
and she did. When the gentlemen retired to the draw¬
ing-room, Elva knew what it was for. Hurrying
through her work, she reached the door in the midst
of their merriment, and heard the words which trans¬
ferred her daughter's husband to another master. She
also heard Jonathan refuse to buy him back. Stag¬
gering to her feet, almost overcome by what she heard,
she returned to the kitchen, fell upon her knees, and
prayed for Purcev's return.


CHAPTER X.
The Wife's Return.
Elva poured out her soul to the Almighty that her
daughter might return before William was taken
away. Rising from her knees, she bethought herself
as to what was the best to do in the premises. She
had no idea when William would be taken away by
his new master, or had she the remotest idea when
her mistress would return; she knew, however, that
something must be done and that at once. She could
do but one thing, and that was to urge William to
seek freedom. Then she thought that such a course
would be next to impossible, as she could never per¬
suade the man to leave without seeing his wife.
Their child, under such care as Elva could bestow
upon it, had grown into a handsome little mulatto fel¬
low, with straight black hair and eyes that fairly re¬
flected those of his mother. He was kept cleaner and
neater in his dress than the other children, and his
play-ground was the kitchen, where he was constantly
under Elva's eye. She knew that should William
leave for a free land without seeing his wife, his
chances to see them again would be better than if he
remained to be removed away, and, perhaps, sold to a
trader and then be taken to the South.
Here were two evils facing her, and she was puz-
rin]


THE WIFE'S RETURN".
105
zled as to which one to avoid. She had not as yet
mentioned a word to William of his dangerous po¬
sition, but time was flying; and she Was still unde¬
cided as to which course to pursue. Once more she
fell upon her knees and appealed to the Almighty
for guidance, and she had scarcely finished her prayer
when the bell rang summoning her to the drawing-
room. She arose and answered the call. She had
just time to wonder what her master wanted, when
she reached the drawing-room door. Pushing it open
softly, she discovered Jonathan and Judge Coleman
engaged in conversation. Standing, almost transfixed,
with her hand touching the door, she heard the judge
say:
"Maxwell, I think I shall leave you to-morrow."
Jonathan said: " I am sorry to part with you, old
fellow, but if you will go, all right. I shall expect
you down during hunting season, when you won't
have to be entertained by the host without the
hostess."
"Yes," said the judge, "I shall come. I want,
however, to leave this bov here a few days."
Jonathan replied,—t; No, that won't do. You must
take him along. His mistress comes home with his
wife, in a few days, and the devil would be to play
should they have to be separated,"
This touch of feeling was the first evidence given
by Jonathan that he felt any reproach over what he
had done.
" Well, as you like it, Maxwell. These creatures


106
BOND AND FREE.
do go on terribly, sometimes, about being separated,
just as though they could not take up another and be
just as well satisfied."
Elva waited to hear no more. She pushed open
the door, entered the room, and stood before her mas¬
ter and his guest.
" Massa, did you ring ?" she said.
"Yes, Elva, your mistress and Master Archie will
be home day after to-morrow. See that everything
is in readiness for them." She made a bow, and
left the room.
She went directly and sought William, quickly in¬
forming him of everything, and telling him that he
must fly, he must run away that night, or, perhaps,
he would never have another chance. When Wil¬
liam heard the startling news of his transfer, of the
intention to remove him the next day, he knew not
where, certain that it would be, if anything, to sla¬
very more absolute and binding than that he was now
in, his first thought was of his wife whom, perhaps,
he was destined never to see again. This was indeed
sad to contemplate ; but he also thought, sad as it was,
that by taking this step, securing freedom, Purcey
would be induced to watch her opportunity to break
her shackies and one day join him in a free land.
Strong and stout-hearted as he was, he quailed before
the inevitable separation, and in a choking voice he
said :
"Aunt Elva, must I go wiaout seeing Purcey?
Must I leave the child ?"


THE WIFE'S RETURN.
107
"Yes," said Elva, "You must go to-night, and you
must travel fast and cover every track until you
reach de river. Don't stop night or day until you
are safe in de land of freedom."
William McCullar, though a slave, was a noble-
hearted man. He was brave and courageous. Had
he have thought that there was the least possible
chance of remaining and successfully resisting being
taken away by his new master, without seeing his wife
he would have fought to the last. He was possessed
of sufficient intelligence to know that any attempt
at resistance would be utterly useless, when every
slave upon the place would be called upon to assist
in subduing him, and the law of the land would con¬
done his death should they see fit to administer such
a penalty. With all these odds against him, he turned
to Elva and said: " Massa Maxwell has sold me ; but
I'll remain here until Purcey comes back, or be
tooken away dead."
" Now, honey, there's no use talking that way.
You must either run away at once, or be taken to
God knows where."
"But," said William, "'sposing I am captured;
wouldn't I be sold to the traders anyhow ? "
" But you won't be captured," said Elva
William shook his head doubtfully. They stood in
silence for a few moments, when the door opened and
William's bright-eyed little son came running in, and,
as if by instinct, wrapped his tiny little arms around
his father's legs and looked up into his face. The


108
BOND AND FREE.
father bent down, lifted the child up, held it at arm's
length, drew it to his bosom, and kissed it. The
child threw its tiny arms around its father's neck and
laid its head against his face.
" Poor chile," said William, " your poor father must
leave you, maybe never to see you agin. '
The child hardly realized what its father said, but
tightened its arms around his neck. Here was sim¬
ple, pure affection—this slave-father, pressing to his
heart and bestowing what might be a last farewell and
blessing upon his own flesh and blood, which by law
was the common property of another man. Should
we wonder that William questioned the right of an¬
other man to separate him from the wife and child of
his bosom ? He put the child down and the tears
almost blinded his eyes.
" No, aunt Elva," he said, " I can't go. I won't go
until Purcey comes. I'll go to Mars Jonathan and
ask him to let me stay just one day, and then I'll go ;
but I won't stay, Elva. Dey can take me as far
South as dey please, but I'll run away the first
chance I git."
"You can go to Mars Jonathan, honey, if you want,
but it ain't no use; he says you must go before mis¬
sus and Purcey comes home."
This discouraging piece of intelligence did not alter
William's resolve to appeal to his master. When the
dinner hour arrived, he waited on the table, as was his
duty, and during the meal Jonathan said to him :
" Bill, after dinner you get your things together and


THE WIFE'S RETURN.
109
prepare to go with Judge Coleman. I have sold you
to him."
William did not show any evidence of surprise at
this announcement, but, standing before his master
with a server in his hand, he said: " Massa, can't I
wait until missus comes home with Purcey ? Please
don't send me away widout seeing her." And while
he spoke, every limb trembled and the dishes on the
server shook until there was imminent danger of his
letting them fall. Jonathan Maxwell looked at the
man without a change in his cold, hard features, and
without a thought of what his own feelings would be
were he told then that he must leave his own dear
wife and son, and go he knew not where after being
separated from them for months, and yet within but
a few hours of the time that he could fold them to
his bosom. This he did not give a thought, and, of
course, had no sympathy for the slave's appeal. When
William had finished speaking, Jonathan waved his
hand and pointed toward the door. William knew
what this meant, and, with tears in his eyes nearly
blinding him and a great lump in his throat nearly
choking him, he passed from the room, entered the
kitchen, and fell at Elva's feet exclaiming, It's 110
use! it's no use ! "
Before Elva could utter a word, the wheels of a
carriage were heard upon the gravel driveway. Elva
ran to the window and saw, seated by the side of the
driver, Purcey, while young master Archie's haughty
face was pressed against the window. The carriage


CHAPTER XL
The Separation.
Purcey was, as might be supposed, highly elated
upon her return home. She laughed, she cried, by
turns. Her heart was filled with unutterable joy;
everything seemed lost to her, for the time being,
except her excessive happiness at her return and
the sight of those she loved so dearly. There had
not been a single circumstance which had conveyed
to her a message, a word, as to their existence, during
her absence from them. Had she have received one
word, one little message, from them, perhaps she
might not have been quite so demonstrative now
upon meeting them. Let us not think, because she
fell upon her husband's bosom and wept like a child,
that it was the overflow of passion in which women,
as a rule, are apt to indulge. This heart, filled only
with the purest of love, inexpressible joy, must soon
be rent with the cruelest and bitterest grief. Purcey
did not know, as she stood there encircled by her
husband's arms, that a cruel and relentless man, her
master by the law of the land, had already taken that
husband from her by a mere word. She did not
know that that embrace would be, perhaps, the last
she would ever receive from lier husband.
William did not know how to break the sad news
[in]


112
BOND AND FREE.
to her. Illiterate though he was, his heart was filled
with true, manly love and real, human feeling. The
husband and wife thus stood clasped in each other's
arms, and it seemed as though no power could sepa¬
rate them. When Purcej recovered herself, she
looked into his face with her beautiful black ejes;
she saw that that face, black though it was, wore a
troubled, anxious look. She said :
" My husband, ain't you glad to see me? "
"Glad?" said William, "glad? More, chile; I
can't spress how I feel."
" What makes you look so sad ? "
" 'Tain't 'cause you'se come home, for that's what
I been praying to de Lord for. No, 'tain't that, but
you'se come, and—and—" Poor fellow! he could
say no more. Something rose in his throat and al¬
most choked him. He reached his hands toward his
wife, exclaiming, " It's no use, it's no use, Purcey!
I must go."
" Go where ? What is it ? " said Purcey. She
grew greatly excited, but could not divine her hus¬
band's meaning. "Speak, William, tell me what
you mean." The black eyes looked at him in an im¬
ploring manner, but William saw them not, nor did
he appear to hear her words. He was now pacing
the floor still exclaiming, " Its no use! its no use! "
Purcey could bear this no longer. She threw her¬
self upon his neck, exclaiming:
"Tell me all, William. What has happened? What
have you done ? Why must you go ? Where must


THE SEPARATION.
113
you go ? Tell me ! tell me!'' This seemed to call the
man's senses back, and when he saw how excited his
wife was, he tried to pacify her by telling her that he
would come to her again as he had to get Judge Cole¬
man's horse ready for him. Purcey would not listen
to this. She insisted upon knowing the cause of his
strange actions, and clung to him all the more. Wil¬
liam saw that there was no use concealing the truth
longer, as it made her almost frantic with excitement.
The man's actions were certainly strange. Purcey
did not expect to find her husband anything but
happy upon her return ; she had not given a thought
to such a thing as his being separated from her far¬
ther than a few miles. Neither had she expected to
find him at the Maxwell house, as he was always
hired out since the escape of her brothers, and she
little knew that had her arrival been a day later, she
would never have beheld him again. No wonder,
then, she insisted upon knowing the meaning of
William's strange words. Could she have guessed
their meaning, could she have realized what pain their
explanation would cause her, she might not have per¬
sisted so. But she must, she would know.
William passed his arm gently around her as he
said : " Chile, ain't nobody told j ou 'i''
"Told me what? I have had no talk with any
one but you, and you talk so strange. What has
happened ? "
He stood with his arm encircling her shapely form
while her head rested against his bosom. She could
8


114
BOND AND FKEE.
feel the quick throbbing of his heart, his bosom rising
and falling with agitation. For a moment, all was
silence, then he raised his disengaged hand and ca¬
ressed her tenderly, while a tear stole down his dusky
cheek. He spoke with great effort as he said, u Poor
chile! Oh, how I have prayed for your return!
Now that you'se come, it seems so hard, so hard!"
And with these words, this strong, horny-handed
slave broke completely down, and wept like a child.
His head fell forward upon his bosom, and the tears
fell thick and fast. Yes; he upon whose back the
whip of a cruel master had fallen with relentless force ;
he who had suffered all the cruelty and privations
known to slavery and had never winced, but remained
as stolid and as indifferent as a Sphinx, now suc¬
cumbed to the feelings which had overcome him in
view of the separation from the companion of his heart
Cruel, cruel man, made in the image of his Maker, yet
so unlike Him in love, by what right do you cause
your fellow-men to suffer thus? Is there any miti¬
gation for the wrongs done your brother? Is there
any forgiveness for jour disobedience of that divine
principle, " Do unto others as you would have them
do unto you ? "
The woman now stood almost motionless ; she had
not yet been able to conceive the cause of her hus¬
band's agitation. Never before had she seen him so
agitated, and respect for his poignant grief compelled
her, for a moment, to weep with him in silence. At
last, unable to bear the terrible suspense longer, she


THE SEPARATION.
115
broke out in words of burning intensity : " My loving
husband, my own William, pray tell me the cause of
this great grief. Would you break my heart with
this terrible silence? Let me know the worst.
Speak to me, my husband, speak!"
The man controlled his feelings as best he could,
and, in a trembling voice, said: "Break your heart?
No, chile, de good Lord forbid that. But—" and
he drew her near to his bosom, " I must, I must leave
you, leave you to-day. I hab another master."
" Why, what of that? You can come and see me
as you have always done.''
"No, .chile, I'm going away off: I don't know
where. Mars Jonathan has—has sold me."
"What? Sold you! sold you!" exclaimed the
woman as she staggered back. " Sold you ! my God,
it cannot be! " and with this exclamation she fell to
the floor.
William quickly had her in his arms. The loud
exclamation and the dull thud of her body as it struck
the floor were heard by Elva, who came rushing into
the room just as William raised the limp form from
the floor. Without asking any questions, she set
about restoring her daughter to consciousness. Pur-
cey slowly regained her senses, but only to swoon
away again. William was now summoned to bring
the horses. He bent over her prostrate form, and
brushed back her raven tresses, which had fallen in a
mass over her brow, kissing her again and again. It
was the last kiss he implanted upon that brow for


116
BOND AND FEEE.
many a day. He told Elva to say to her that he was
going to ran away ; he was going to flee to freedom
the first chance he got, and he wanted Purcey to take
the child and make her escape. With this parting
injunction, without another word, he left his uncon¬
scious wife and his only child to follow his new mas¬
ter wherever necessary, perhaps to be sold again, but,
at all events, with little hope of ever seeing that wife
whom he loved so dearly and the child for whom his
heart yearned.
William took the horses to the door; Judge Cole¬
man bade Jonathan Maxwell farewell, promising to
return during the hunting season, and, with the re¬
sult of his last successful gambling bet, rode away.
Jonathan watched them until well out of sight, when
he entered the house and fondly embraced his wife.
Seating himself in an easy chair, he took his darling
son upon his knee, and asked his wife to tell him all
about their long sojourn from home.
Can there be any adequate expression given to the
depth of human feeling? or, is there no depth or
breadth to the feeling of the human heart? Are we
to suppose that Jonathan Maxwell, as he sat there
with his son upon his knee and his wife gazing af¬
fectionately upon him, had any thought of the man
whom he had just separated from a wife whose prov¬
ince it was to love her husband as dearly as any
other woman ? Can it be supposed that, surrounded
as he was by love, by every comfort heart could wish,
a single pang of remorse entered his bosom to re-


118
BOND AND FREE.
if any manifestation of grief was displayed more than
he thought was necessary, to put a check upon it in
any manner that suggested itself to him.
Mrs. Maxwell, reclining in a comfortable chair, de¬
scribed in an interesting manner all the events of her
visit, and concluded by referring to her greatly im¬
proved health. She then requested Jonathan to ring
for Purcey to give Master Archie his bath. Jonathan
rang the maid's bell, which was answered by Purcey's
sister, • Eloise.
"Where is Purcey," said Mrs. Maxwell, "that she
did not answer the bell ? "
Eloise was very fat, very round, and very ugly,
with a face like a butter ball, and eyes that sat in her
head like two holes burnt into a blanket. Her hair
stood out straight from her head like the quills upon
a porcupine. In addition to this, she was black, sly,
and considerably younger than her sister, Purcey.
One garment covered her person, and her feet were
always ready for a jig. She was, however, clever and
quite useful; she could do most any work about the
house that she could be entrusted with, and could
work in the harvest field equal to a man. She had
an insatiable desire for mischief, and was as near being
uncivilized as a human being can be without being
actually so. When Elva, with Eloise's assistance,
had got Purcey to her bed, she sent Eloise into the
kitchen to attend to the work until she could safely
leave her daughter's bedside. She dared not leave
Eloise with her sister, for, unless she fully realized


THE SEPARATION.
119
tlie serious condition Purcey was in, she would likely
have committed some indiscretion, which, perhaps,
might have ended seriously. Elva instructed her
that in case the bell rang to answer it, and see what
was wanted. This is why Eloise had answered the
bell, and, as she entered the room, she stood balancing
herself first on one foot, then on the other, until her
mistress repeated the question the second time.
Now there was one thing about Eloise which was
very remarkable. She feared neither mistress nor
master, nor had she any fear of the lash. Her hide
was as tough as the hide of a rhinoceros, and she ap¬
parently cared for nothing. There was .but one
person on earth that she seemed to care for, and that
was Purcey. She loved Purcey with a devotion that
her nature in no way betrayed, and, when asked why
she loved her so, she would say, " Cause she's white
and ain't like us common niggers.'' Purcey was the
only one who could control her. She would do what¬
ever Purcey bade her, and would cry like a child
when reprimanded by her sister.
What it was that drew this almost uncivilized
child toward her sister, it would be hard to tell, un¬
less it was the music of Purcey's voice. Whenever
Purcey would sing (she had a sweet voice), Eloise
would stand and grin and clap her hands. As soon
as she had finished singing, Eloise would rush upon
her and almost hug the breath out of her. This was
singular, in view of the fact of her far different actions
when any one else would sing. It did not matter


120
BOND AND FREE.
whether it was a tune of slow or fast measure, a
hymn, or a song, Eloise would attempt to dance it.
But just let Purcey raise her voice, and the feet of
the little savage were stilled in silence, and her mouth
would drop wide open, a broad grin overspread her
face, and her little, round, mischievous eyes, glitter
like lire-balls. This was the attachment which this
untutored child of bondage bore for her sister, and
when she saw Purcey lying insensible upon the floor,
she could not realize what it meant. She asked her
mother, however, what ailed her, and, when told that
she had been made sick by the fact that Mars Jona¬
than had sold her husband, she said: " Mars Jona¬
than make Purcey sick? What he do dat for?" Iler
mother gave her some evasive reply, and sent her
down into the kitchen. So when Eloise answered
the bell, and her mistress asked why Purcey did not
respond, Elo, as she was called, replied,—" 'Cause she
can't."
"Because she can't? What does that mean, Elo?"
"She ded, dats why."
" Dead !" said Jonathan, rising to his feet. " Dead !"
said Mrs. Maxwell, placing her bottle of smelling-
salts to her nose.
"Yes, ded," said Elo. " She's white as you is, Mis¬
ses, and me and mamma toted her up-stairs."
Elo knew ven^ well that Purcey was not dead, but
so incontrollable was her desire for mischief, that
she would pass a joke, or tell a lie, just as quickly
over a dead person as a live one.


THE SEPARATION.
121
Jonathan, knowing well Elo's disposition and weak¬
ness for prevaricating, while moved by the serious
air she assumed at first, upon recovering himself, said:
"Bio, tell me the truth, or I'll whip you."
" Truf, truf," said Elo, "dat's de truf. What I
care if you whip me? Ain't I a nigger? and aint nig¬
gers made to be whipped ?"
Mrs. Maxwell said : " Jonathan, don't stop to argue
with that imp, but go and see if there is anything
the matter.''
Now this is just the very thing that Jonathan was
trying to avoid. He suspected there was something
wrong with Purcey, as he had every reason to sus¬
pect; but he had no intention of facing Elva in the
kitchen, and have those dreadful eyes of hers look¬
ing reproachfully at him. Turning to Elo, who had
got herself pretty well balanced on one foot, the
other being hid out of sight by the long, gown-like
garment she wore, he said: "Go and tell Aunt Elva
to come here."
Elo made a bound for the door, turning Master
Archie, whom his father had placed upon the floor,
head over heels, and left the room.
Jonathan then said to his wife, "1 expect that
wench is going on because of William."
" William !" said his wife. " Who is that?"
" Her husband."
" Well, what's the matter with him?"
"I sold him to Coleman."


122
BOND AND FREE.
" Why should she go on so about him, dear?" said
Mrs. Maxwell.
"Oh, she always had a great fancy for him, and
now I expect the devil will be to play."
" I don't see why that should be, she will soon get
over that. You have plenty as good niggers upon
the place as William. She will soon be in love with
some of them." And Mrs. Maxwell laughed.
This is the view Mrs. Maxwell took of it. She
could not understand how Purcey, a slave, could have
any lasting affection for a husband. She could not
understand why such affection could not be as easily
transferred from one slave to another, as it never en¬
tered that lady's mind that such a thing as affection
existed within the bosom of a black person. They
might form attachments, or have a preference for one
another, but affection was a thing which only white
people were capable of displaying. Mrs. Maxwell
knew but very little of her husband's affairs, or, in¬
deed. did she care much about them, being one of
those indolent ladies who occupied her time between
dress and French novels. She had no household
cares, nor did she seek any. A servant was always
at her hand, to attend her wants, and whenever her
husband mentioned anything to her about the affairs
of the house, she at once showed signs of being bored.
She believed that all persons born black were in their
proper place when in bondage, and it was the invi¬
olable right of the master to dispose of the slave as
he saw fit.


THE SEPARATION.
123
So, as a matter of course, Jonathan met with no
reproof from the companion of his life for doing a
thing which, were it not that he had steeled himself
to, might have pricked his conscience.


CHAPTER XII.
Another Class of Slaves.
It was some time before Elva obeyed her master's
summons. A desperate straggle passed within the-
woman's bosom, as she stood there over her daughter,
feeling certain that Purcey's illness would be a pro¬
longed one. Purcey's mind was flighty, and con¬
stantly wandering, her husband being the subject of
her incessant mutterings. It was a blessing that Elva
was so good a nurse, for medical experience was hard
to obtain, and, besides, that was not often employed
to attend slaves. When she had calmed Purcey, and
got her into a slight slumber, she went to the draw¬
ing-room, where Mr. and Mrs. Maxwell awaited her.
Elva entered, addressed her mistress, and said: "Did
you send for me, Miss Jinnie?" This was the name
by which she had always addressed her mistress be¬
fore her marriage to Jonathan, and she had never
dropped the Miss, since Jennie Partington became
Mrs. Maxwell.
"Yes, Elva," said Mrs. Maxwell, "what is the
matter with Purcey?1'
" Why, de poor chile's taken very sick, and I had
to put her to bed.''
" What caused her sickness?"
"Don't know zackly, Miss Jinnie. She complained
[124]


ANOTHER CLASS OF SLAVES.
125
soon as she got home, and I seed she was not well,
and after William bid her good-bye, poor chile, she
give right up."
Elva knew that both her mistress and master were
anxious to know how Purcey took the separation from
her husband, and she was trying to avoid giving them
the information they sought. She had told the truth
when she said Purcey was unwell, when she returned
home, for so she was. The long separation from her
husband and child, and the dreadful suspense she en¬
dured from day to day, never hearing anything of
them, and having no knowledge as to whether they
were dead or alive, was a strain upon mind and body
that took almost a superhuman effort to stand. Her
excessive joy consequent upon her return to them,
and then to be told that her husband was to be sep¬
arated from her, that he had been sold, was indeed
enough to have completely unseated her reason. Jon¬
athan then questioned Elva closely, to ascertain the
real cause of her illness, but elicited only the infor¬
mation that she had a raging fever, and that it would,
perhaps, be many weeks before she would be able to
attend to her duties. He finally dismissed her, with
instructions to give her such attention as she required
and to send one of the other servants to perform the
duty of maid for her mistress.
Elva returned to the sick-room of her daughter.
Falling upon her knees by the bedside, she prayed
fcr Purcey's safe restoration to health. It was many
days after that prayer before Pureev was restored to


126
BOND AND FREE.
health, but, thanks to the skillful nursing of her
mother, she was brought back almost from death's
door.
When she had sufficiently recovered, Elva told
her all that had happened, for it was all like a dream
to her, and implored her to give no outward sign of
her feelings. She also gave her the message William
had left for her. Purcey was greatly changed; she
was no longer the bright, vivacious, and sprightly
woman as before; she looked years older than she
really was. Sickness and sorrow had ploughed wrin¬
kles upon her brow, and her beautiful black hair
had all come out. Her step was no longer light and
elastic, while the lustre of her handsome black eyes
was dimmed. She was at all times thoughtful. She
kept close to her own room, so as to be ready to
carry out the resolve she had long since made.
Upon her child she bestowed great care and atten¬
tion. She would sit with him in her arms for hours,
and tell him how he had been robbed of his father,
and then burst out in a fit of tears exclaiming, " Oh,
if they were to take mamma's darling from her, it
would kill her!" How she would watch over him,
constantly fearing the possibility of his being torn
from her in the night! She thought of all the chan¬
ces she would ever have of seeing her husband again.
She wondered, should she flee to Canada or the free
States, how he would ever find her. Then she was
anxious as to whether he would ever return to her
again. Oh, if she only dared approach her master,


ANOTHER CLASS OF SLAVES.
127
and plead for his return! But such a thought was
useless, hopeless! She could but follow his parting
advice, and make her escape with her child.
Purcey's idea of the world, as we may know, was
not extensive. It was, in fact, rather simple. The
distance from North to South, from bondage to free¬
dom, while apparently great, did not seem to her
simple mind so far as to discourage her in making an
attempt to reach the North, and thus, at least, obtain
freedom for herself and child. She believed that
William would be' true to his word, and would, at
the very first opportunity, make his escape. But
what if Judge Coleman should sell him to the traders
and he be taken to the far South? She knew that
in this event his- chances of escape would be very
poor. When she would think of his being thus sold,
a thrill of horror would pass over her, and her very
heart would sink within her. If she could only have
advised him to escape before he was taken out of the
State of Virginia, if she had only made him leave
when he told her he had been sold! But, perhaps,
had he attempted to escape then he would only have
been captured, and then certainly sold South. All
these thoughts, and many others, passed through the
woman's mind, until she became so depressed in spirits
that life seemed hardly worth a struggle.
Elva. however, kept constantly advising her to
keep up and trust in the good Lord, that He was suf¬
ficient for all things. Purcey, while she followed
her mother's advice, was inclined often to think that


128
BOND AND FREE.
the Lord had forsaken the poor slaves. When she
would thinlc of their sufferings, of their trials and
tribulations, she would often find her faith and con¬
fidence in the Lord wavering, but when her mother
would cite to her instances of the Lord's goodness
and mercy, doubt and fear would vanish, and new
life, new hope, would spring up in her bosom. She
felt for her child's sake that she must obtain free¬
dom. Why should her child be a child of bondage?
Why should he be reared and taught to acknowledge
another man as his master? Why should he be
brought up in ignorance and servitude? Perhaps it
was the Anglo-Saxon blood in her veins that lent
vigor to these thoughts, or it may have been the
promptings of a mind which was only stinted in in¬
telligence from its surroundings, but which, if given
an opportunity for development, would have shone
as brightly as human minds are wont to shine. She
determined, however, to follow her husband's advice,
which would be carrying out the resolve she had
made while away with her mistress.
She set about making every preparation for her
escape. She had amassed quite a little sum of money,
which she had made by attention to visitors at the
Maxwell house. Iler mistress was also very careless
at times with her pin-money, and, though it might
not have been strictly honest, yet Purcey had often
abstracted a quarter and a half-dollar which she added
to her little store of wealth. Having but little use
for money, her savings amounted to a considerable


ANOTHER CLASS OF SLAVES.
129
sum. She had for a long time entertained the inten¬
tion of purchasing her freedom previous to her mar¬
riage, and this is why she worked so assiduously to
obtain the means to carry out her intention.
There were many strange features connected with '
slavery, and not the least strange or magnanimous of
its features was the privilege given by many of the
slaveholders to their servants to purchase their free¬
dom. There were many instances where advantage
was taken of this magnanimity. Men would pur¬
chase their own liberty, and then hiring themselves
out, would purchase their wives and children by
their earnings. It took years, often, to accomplish
this end, but so great was the desire for freedom that
time was reckoned only by the cost of liberty. There
are many living to-day who, having purchased their
own freedom, sold themselves into bondage again,
and, with the money thus realized, purchased wife
and child. Again and again, have men and women
sold themselves to purchase the liberty of some loved
one. What a traffic, what a business for man to en¬
gage in against man! But this was one of the bless¬
ings of slavery. The master who gave such a priv¬
ilege to his slaves was an angel compared with those
who denied it. There were many of this class of ne¬
groes in the South, and they were proscribed by master
and slave. Notwithstanding this, they were thrifty
and ambitious. In many sections, where the preju¬
dice was not too strong, they accumulated comfort¬
able fortunes and engaged in profitable business,
o


130
BOND AND FREE.
"Free niggers" is what they were termed, and great
care was taken to keep as wide a gulf between them
and the slave class as possible.
There was also another class of people peculiar to
the South, who were far more despicable than a free
negro or a slave. They were the poor unfortunate
whites, unfortunate from the fact that they did not
own any of their fellow-men. They were despised
by the master, mistrusted by the slave, and treated
with contempt by the free negro. Despised as they
were by all classes, they still had many great advan¬
tages over the poor slave. They were white; hence,
their backs were spared from the lash. They were
men before the law, and no cruel master could sever
their family ties. Yet they found life a burden, and
their circumstances seldom changed. They were left
to eke out a miserable existence by stealing, begging,
or any other means they might employ. The feeling
of hatred which existed between them and the slaves,
was both universal and mutual. There was no wTork
that they could not be employed to perform, espec¬
ially such pleasing employment as negro-catching.
They were the human blood hounds of the South, the
bacalli of the country. They were to be found in
the valleys and mountains, and tradition says that
they were frequently known to subsist on herbs, barks,
and wild roots. There was but one time in the year
when they found honest and remunerative, though
hard, labor. This was in the harvest season. Many
slave-holders would employ them to assist in harvest-


ANOTHER CLASS OF SLAVES.
131
ing, and no slave was worked harder or longer than,
were these " poor white trash," as the slaves called
them. A slave might have a holy reverence for a man
who owned a hundred of his brethren, but for a white
man who owned none he had not the least regard.
Living in a rude little hut in the mountain, within
a few miles of the Maxwell estate, was a family of
three, consisting of father, mother, and daughter.
They were living and true representatives of the
poorer class of whites. William Silvers was a man
who had seen some forty h^rd winters, was of long,
lank stature, with thin hair hanging about his head
like wax-ends. He was known throughout the neigh¬
borhood as "Skinny." His wife was also of tall
stature, with a wiry frame, and worked in a harvest
field with as much activity as a man. Their daugh¬
ter was a maid of some seventeen years, who kept the
family from starving because she made friends with
the slaves about the neighboring plantations, and
would receive from them many an apron of corn-
meal and pieces of bacon. The Silvers, like nearly
all of the poor whites, were very ignorant. Reading
and writing were lost arts to them, and the school-
house and church were places they never frequented.
Sallie Silvers and Purcev had long been friends.
This was in itself something very unusual, but when
it is considered that Purcey represented one of the
more intelligent class of slaves, the ordinary prejudice
that existed between the poor whites and the slaves
did not enter into her disposition.


182
BOND AND FREE.
Sallie had often been kindly treated by Purcey,
and the girl's devotion to her was really remarkable.
She had often declared that she longed for the time
to prove her friendship for Purcey. During Purcey's
illness she frequently called at the house to inquire
about her, and evinced much solicitude about her re¬
covery. When Purcey became convalescent, she was
often at her bedside, and would sit for hours convers¬
ing and sympathizing with her. Sallie Silvers,
though seventeen years of age, white and free, could
not, as we have said, read or write ; and as she sat by
Purcey's bedside one day, Purcey said to her:
"Sallie, can you read ?"
''No," answered Sallie, "wish I could."
" Why don't you learn ?"
"Whose gwine to learn me? Ma and pa can't"
" Why," said Purcey, "I will teach you what lit¬
tle I know, then you can teach yourself; but you
mustn't tell anybody."
"No, indeed!" said Sallie, "I wish I could read,
den I might be a lady some day."
Then Purcey told her what she had seen while
traveling with her mistress; how, in big cities, she
could get along so nicely, because she was white, and
promised, that if she would hurry and learn to read
and write, she would tell her how to become a lady.
Purcey then gave her some money, and told her to
go to the village and purchase a book. Sallie fol¬
lowed her instructions, and, until Purcey was per¬
fectly well, she and Sallie Silvers were close com-


ANOTHER CLASS OF SLAVES.
133
panions, and no one except Elva and themselves knew
why they were so often closeted. Purcey's object in
showing so much anxiety about Sal lie's acquirement
of knowledge was known only to herself.


CHAPTER XIII.
The Fugitives.
When Joe Berry and his companions were at¬
tacked near the village of , they all separated
and ran in different directions. The direction which
they were to go was mutually understood, and, al¬
though it was several days before they got together
again, they at last met near C , in Pennsylvania,
on the banks of the Susquehanna river. Our heroes
had all met with various adventures upon the road,
but every man had successfully eluded his pursuers,
notwithstanding the many difficulties they had to en-
encounter. Even Ben Myers, with his large feet
and dilapidated shoes, made his escape and joined
his friends. The adventures of some of them are
worth relating. Joe, after making his escape from
the rider of the ringbone horse, went directly to
the mountain; he traveled during the greater por¬
tion of the day, and well into the night. Fearing
that he might get lost in the mountain, he attempted,
in the night, to find a road, and, if possible, get some
one to direct him to the town of H . He came
to what he supposed was a path, and which he thought
would lead him out of the mountain. After follow¬
ing it for some distance, he felt his feet gradually
sinking under him, and began to struggle and clutch
violently at the surrounding shrubbery and tufts of
[134]


THE FUGITIVES.
135
grass, but these afforded him no support, and he kept
sinking until his body sank partly below the earth.
He then clutched at the soft earth about him, which
only crumbled in his hands. Down, down he went,
until several feet below the surface, when the earth
seemed to cave in and wedge his body in so tight that
only his arms were free, which he had been thought¬
ful enough to keep above his head. Vainly did
he struggle to extricate himself. He clutched, he
grabbed, he struggled until he became perfectly ex¬
hausted. During the night, a terrific rain-storm set
in, and the water rushed in upon him until he thought
he was doomed to a living grave. For two days
and nights did Joseph Berry remain almost entombed
in that ditch. He had given up all hope of ever
extricating himself, and had resigned himself to suf¬
fer a slow, painful death.
The hours seemed like days, and the days months.
He had struggled until his strength had become ex¬
hausted several times, but, being a resolute as well as
a powerful man, on the third night of his imprison¬
ment, after regaining strength, he made an effort to free
his feet. By terrific straining, he succeeded. Pressing
his elbows against the side of the ditch, he raised his
body; the mud and water flowed under his feet, giv¬
ing him a slight but treacherous foot-hold. He
worked his body up this way until his head was
above the surface, and, at last, by summoning all of
his remaining strength, he threw himself upon the
earth. There he lay for several hours, being too


THE FUGITIVES.
137
upon his mission, advertising in every town and
village, giving a thorough description of the man
of whom he was in search. Several times he was
close upon Jim's track, but did not succeed in cap¬
turing him. Jim became separated from the rest of
the party when they were attacked, and made as di¬
rectly for the point at which they had agreed to meet
as he could. He went very cautiously, however,
avoiding all towns or main roads. He struck the
course of the Susquehanna river, and coming in sight
of a small town, thought he would risk getting some¬
thing to eat Jim had changed his rich broadcloth
for Virginia home-spun; his hair was clipped close;
his usual swinging gait was changed to a steady, firm
tread, making it difficult to recognize him in his
disguise. He walked up to the only inn in the town
and asked for something to eat. The landlord of the
place said to him :
" Where are you bound for, young man ? "
This question put Jim to thinking, so in order to
avoid any suspicion, he said:
" I am on the hunt for work, sir."
"Where are you from?"
" York, sir," was the prompt reply.
" Well, I want a stable-boy, and I think you will
suit me. What's your name? "
"Dick Davis, sir," replied Jim.
"All right, Dick, go into the kitchen and get some¬
thing to eat, and then come out to the stable. 1 shall
show you what to do."


138
bond and free.
Jim had ho intention, at first, of stopping at this
place to work; but be bad been caught so neatly that
be concluded to work a few days, then quietly slip
away and proceed 011 his journey, intending, in the
meantime, to secure whatever information he could
relative to the country he had to travel through.
The idea of changing his name occurred to him as
soon as the question was put to hirn by the landlord,
for Jim intuitively realized that there was more
safety in traveling under an assumed name than un¬
der his real name. He knew, also, that he would be
advertised, and in the advertisement, a description of
him as well as his name would appear.
The fugitives had been informed that they would
strike the Underground Railroad in Pennsylvania, and
it was understood that a section of it was to be found
in the town of II . This is why they all made
for this point, or, it is probable, they might never
have met again.
This wonderful institution, which proved the safe
conductor of many a child of bondage to free¬
dom, must ever remain dear to the hearts of many
a one of the present generation. The prayers
that have been sent up to Heaven by the delivered,-
for the protection and blessing of the noble-hearted
men and women who directed it, have been answered
011 more than one occasion. Many of these noble
souls have long since been gathered home to their re¬
ward, but, through the intelligence of one of them, a
representative of our race, the record of their glorious


THE FUGITIVES.
139
work has been preserved, and it will be perused in
future years with increased interest.
Dick Davis, or the Widow Dean's Jim, soon be¬
came a favorite about the tavern, and picked up many
an odd penny by his attention to the quadrupeds and
the boots of travelers. He had about made up his
mind to leave his new employer, when one morning,
shortly after this decision, a stranger rode up to the tav¬
ern all bespattered with mud, and his horse covered
with foam. He dismounted, threw the bridle rein
to Dick, and directed him to take his horse to
the stable, feed him, and rub him down well, toss¬
ing Dick, at the same time, a silver quarter. Dick
walked off to the stable leading the horse, and his
heart worked its way up into his very mouth, for he
recognized in this stranger no less a person than Mr.
Si Blackson. There is a common saying among white
people that they cannot tell one negro from another.
Never place any confidence in this statement, for when
you take a real Southerner, he may have a hundred
negroes upon his plantation, yet he will pick anyone
of them out from among a million every time.
Human nature is human nature, whether it be
adorned in white or black.
There are numerous things which men do instinct¬
ively, and often by so doing either attract attention
unintentionally to or from themselves. It may have
been from instinct, or it may have been prompted by
a suspicion of mutual recognition that Si Blackson,
upon entering the tavern door, turned around, either


the fugitives.
141
Blackson also watched him some time in silence,
when he said:
"Boy, have you got a box and hammer?"
"Yes, sir," replied Dick, and he procured those arti¬
cles for Blackson. That worthy directed him to
carry them out into the road, and while Dick held
the box, he nailed up against a high fence the fol¬
lowing advertisement:
Runaway !—A mulatto boy, age eighteen, about
five feet six inches in height, good features, hair
rather long and black, speaks very quick, dressed in
a full black suit of clothes, and very dandy in ap¬
pearance. Twelve hundred dollars will be paid for
his return to Mrs. W. Dean, P B county,
Virginia. Five hundred dollars for any information
leading to his capture. N. B.—Said runaway an¬
swers to the name of Jim. No harm must be done
him.
Fifteen hundred dollars was the real reward offered
by the Widow Dean, but Mr. Blackson withheld
three hundred for himself. This is the card which
was tacked up, and James Seabury, alias Dick Davis,
stood there and innocently held the box for Blackson
to advertise a price upon his head. Dick did not
know what the card read, but he suspected what it
was, and while Blackson was at breakfast, Dick got
one of the kitchen maids to read it for him. He now
found himself in a predicament. Flight was next to
impossible, for that would only invite immediate
pursuit and certain capture. There was no one to


142
BOND AND FREE.
whom he could appeal for advice, as he feared to
trust anybody about the tavern, notwithstanding they
had been so kind to him. He finally determined to
watch Mr. Blackson closely, and, immediately upon
that gentleman's departure, to take his own to a
more healthful retreat.
Mr. Blackson, having finished his breakfast, paid
his bill, then ordered his horse. After a few hurried
words with the landlord, he proceeded 011 his journey.
Dick's mind was greatly relieved when he saw him
depart. But what had he said to the landlord? Was
he the subject of their conversation? He had no
means of ascertaining this, but in order not to attract
attention, he kept at his work apparently as disinter¬
ested in the arrival and departure of the astute Mr.
Blackson, as he had been in the hundreds of other
travelers who frequented the tavern. The advertise¬
ment attracted a great deal of attention, and was the
subject of much comment by the loiterers about the
tavern. It was not an unusual thing, however, in that
locality, or perhaps he might have been apprehended
at once.
Nearly all runaways were published in this or
some other way, and their pursuers would often
carry them into the courts of a State, if necessary to
prove their property. In all the vast territory of this
great country, the poor, hunted, fugitive slave had 110
protection. "Prove your property and take it'' was
the decree of the Government, and he who aided or
abetted the escape of Lis fellow-man from bondage to


THE FUGITIVES.
143
freedom was a criminal before the law. No part of
this great country was held sacred from the tread of
the negro-hunter, and none of the statutes of its law
threw around the fugitive a single mantle of protec¬
tion. The deepest-dyed villain, committing a crime
in one State, could flee to another, necessitating the
carrying out of important forms of law before his re¬
turn. But these creatures, guilty of no greater crime
than trying to obtain that for which hundreds of noble
men have suffered death, were hunted like beasts of
the forest, and, when found, returned to abject servi¬
tude. Whatatravesty on justice! There is a land, how¬
ever, which proved an asylum for them, and no man
who sought to deprive another of his liberty dared
set foot upon its soil for that purpose. It was to this
asylum that thousands fled, and found refuge and pro¬
tection.
Dick worked in a state of agony and suspense all
day. Often was he tempted to tear down that pla¬
card, but dared not. He concluded that, under the
cover of night, and before the sun rose the next day,
he must put as many miles as possible between him
and that place; and when the shadows of night closed
in upon that little wayside inn, when the inmates were
wrapped in sweet slumber, this being, not yet a man
by the law of the land, stole softly from the place
where he had sought refuge for several days.
tie went directly to the river. Finding a boat
moored there, lie rowed himself across and set the
boat adrift, never stopping for rest or refreshment


THE FUGITIVES.
145
ductor of the Underground Railroad, who conducted
them, under cover of night, to the residence of a
friend in the town. Although they were not entirely
out of danger, the air seemed lighter, the heavens
looked brighter, their step was more elastic, and their
spirits more buoyant. They were quartered in the
house of this friend until the train was made up, when
they were dispatched through to Canada, by the way
of E , Pennsylvania, across the lake into freedom.
When the Canadian shore heaved in sight, this band
of fugitives bowed their heads in prayer. And such
a prayer as went up from those untutored hearts!
They stepped upon the shores of Canada, happy that
they were at last free. Free! Ah, what a word! They
had never realized its meaning before. Free to roam
all over those shores, free to go, free to come, free
from the cruel sting of the lash, free from the hot
scorching sun of the corn-field and the tobacco plan¬
tation, free from massa, free from missa! No wonder
they sang with soul-inspired strains:
Sing praises to Jehovah we are free,
Safe on the shores of Canada.
Let us unite in heart and hand,
And shout for joy in the freedmen's land.
lO


CHAPTER XIV.
Pupil and Teacher.
The anxiety on the part of Sallie Silvers to learn
to read and write, as the necessary accomplishments
to become a lady, was so very great that she soon
mastered these obstacles in her way. She improved
the little opportunity she had, and, assisted by the little
knowledge of Purcey, became, in a short time, quite
conversant with general topics from whatever papers
she could secure. There being no restrictions against
her purchasing books and papers, she procured many of
these useful articles with the money supplied her by
Purcey. Together they learned rapidly, and Purcey
took every advantage of the pre-arranged plans
agreed upon between her and her mother. All the
rich and costly dresses given her by her mistress
were cut and fitted to Sallie. Purcey's inability to
attend her mistress had been stretched to the fullest
limit, and both she and her mother feared that, unless
she soon took her departure, something might inter¬
vene to prevent it. Her mother contributed quite a
little sum of money to that which Purcey had, and
she was now ready to start.
All arrangements being completed, she and her
mother took Sallie into their confidence. The scheme
proposed for Purcey's contemplated escape was care-
[146]


PUPIL AND TEACHER.
147
fully and skillfully arranged by Elva. They had the
utmost confidence m Sallie, whose desire to travel
and become a lady was so great that she hesitated
not a moment to enter into the suggestions presented
to her by Purcey Her mountain home, with its pov¬
erty and hardships, grew inferior and distasteful to
her, as rare pictures of a life of ease and comfort were
displayed to her.
She had now learned something of the world, and
urged by that ambition so prevalent in youth, she
yearned for an opportunity to better her condition in
life. She never realized what slavery was, as she had
seen it only from a point where its terrors had not
impressed her with any objection to the evil, and
never until Purcey related to her her cruel separa
tion from her husband did she realize its horrors. She
became, then, an earnest sympathizer with the people
who were made to suffer in bondage, as well as a fit
subject to aid in carrying out the projected plans of
Purcey and her mother. Sallie was now informed
that she was to travel as the mistress of Purcey, and
under this guise was to go North into a free country.
She must go and inform her parents that she had
found employment which would keep her from home
for some time. This would prevent them from mak
ing any inquiries as to her whereabouts, or suspecting
her connection with Purcey's escape.
So enthusiastic was Sallie when she thought of the
elegant dresses she was to w$ar, and how, for the first
time in her life, she was to assume the role of a


PUPIL AND TEACHER.
149
Uncle Josh was lifted to the seventh heaven of
hope when he saw that smile. He replied, with an air
of confidence and bravado: u 'Scovered, chile ?
trouble? Don't yon weep for me, for by de help
of de good Lord, I'll be back and hab dat critter in
de field 'fore Mars Biggers turn ober for de secon'
nap."
This having been satisfactorily arranged, Uncle
Josh arrived on time with the wagon. The things
were stowed away, and Purcey bade farewell to her
mother, and with her child and Sallie Silvers, dressed
in one of Mrs. Maxwell's fine silks, set her face
toward freedom. There was not a soul upon the
Maxwell place, excepting Elva, who knew of Pur-
cey's flight, and the parting between mother and
daughter was very affecting. They remained for a
moment embraced in each other's arms, while tears
flowed down from their eyes, and prayers poured
forth from their hearts. The parting was, indeed, a
sad one, as it was the last embrace the mother ever
received from the daughter, or the daughter from
the mother.
The one was leaving her who had given her birth,
to find liberty; while the other consigned herself to
hopeless servitude to protect the life and make se¬
cure the flight of her child. Elva had all of that love
and affection which abounds in the heart of a loving
mother, but over this particular child, she displayed
greater solicitude than for Emiline or Elo. If there
be any such thing as being fated, such was the case,


150
BOND AND FREE.
Elva thought, of these two. They were, in common
with many other slaves, satisfied with their lot. Nor
did they ever express a desire for liberty, or display
any disposition to be other than contented under
every and all circumstances. But how often had
her heart been caused to bleed for Purcey when she
looked upon her beauty, her natural endowments,
her tastes, though uncultivated, yet so refined ! She
asked herself the question, ' why should this, her
child, apparently endowed with all the higher attri¬
butes of womanhood—why should she remain a
slave? as fair as her mistress, as beautiful as any
woman could be, why should she not be free? '
Then she knew that as long as Purcey was held in
bondage, she would be a victim to the lust of those
who might be disposed to possess themselves of her.
Like all slaves, in her master s eye, a price was upon
her head, and who could tell the day, the hour, when
she might be transferred from Jonathan Maxwell to
a master with less regard for virtue?
At last they parted, and when Uncle Josh drove
away, Elva entered the house a changed woman. She
determined that, at the risk of her own life, Jonathan
Maxwell should never pursue her child. Life had no
more charms for her; she felt that she had nothing
more to live for, but to make secure the escape to free¬
dom of her child. She was, doubtless, actuated in this
belief by a sense that God had spared her to be a me¬
dium which must stand between Purcey's escape and
the possibility of her recapture. She would not hesi-


PUPIL AND TEACHER.
151
tate now to dye her hands in her master's blood, if
needs be, to save her child. When she entered the
house, she fell upon her knees and asked for guid
ance, for strength, for intelligence, that she might be
able to act. When she arose, Elva Berry was a
changed woman. Her beautiful black eyes glowed
with a new, but dangerous, light; her lips were
bloodless, her teeth were tightly clenched, while her
hands worked convulsively. She felt as though she
possessed the strength of a lion, and she was now
ready to throw herself between the fleeing daughter
and any power that dared obstruct her in her flight.
Uncle Josh plied the whip to his master's horse,
and, without a single stop during that long ride, sue
ceeded in landing the whole party safely at the ferry
They had taken the precaution to unload their bag
gage and send Uncle Josh off before they aroused
the ferryman. That worthy came forth rubbing his
eyes, and, after being induced by a liberal reward,
took them safely across the river to a point where
tickets were purchased by Sallie. These tickets
sufficed to carry them some distance, but they left
the road many miles from the place intended, and ob¬
tained tickets in an entirely different direction.
When Uncle Josh turned his master's horse to¬
ward home, he chuckled to himself as he felt the four
silver half-dollars in his pocket, which Purcey had
given him. The horse was pretty tired, and he al¬
lowed him to jog quietly along, while he gave him¬
self up to thoughts about Sister Elva and the silver


152
BOND AND FREE.
half-dollars. He had been thus ruminating for some
time, when his horse came to a full stop. Uncle Josh
was of a very superstitious nature, like the most of
slaves; he had all kinds of beliefs. He was looked
upon as possessing certain mysterious powers himself.
He had voodooed, or conjured, it was said, quite a
number of enemies, having been known to boil nails
in a pot over a slow fire while he went through a
peculiar incantation, his victim, in the meantime,
writhing in pain and crawling upon all fours. He
was never found without a rabbit's foot in his pocket,
or a piece of opossum skin tied around his left wrist.
In addition to this, he possessed a bag of lizard dust.
He was held in awe and reverence by all the negroes
who knew him. For to incur Uncle Josh's displeasure
was to meet some day with some terrible misfortune.
Like many others of his race, who laid claim to the
possession of these mysterious powers, he was very
cunning. It was not the deep, designing cunning, or
craftiness, of a more intelligent mind, but that low
cunning born of instinct, such as a fox is noted for,
or such as is unaccompanied by perfect reason. He
succeeded, however, in keeping those around him in
perfect fear of his hidden powers, while at the same
time he did not possess enough to keep his back from
being well scarred by Mr. Biggers' overseer.
He was not unlike all others of his class in league
with unseen powers, or the imps of darkness. They
all failed to practice any of their arts upon their mas¬
ters, and this is why so many doubt the efficacy of


PUPIL AND TEACHER.
153
their work. It may be that a white man was not
susceptible to their charms, or it may be they feared
to practice upon that race. Nevertheless, it is a fact
that no voodoo doctor, conjurer, or enchanter was
ever known to make his master pine awav, imitate a
quadruped, or endure any of the other various suffer¬
ings which these sons of the hidden arts were said to
cause.
When Uncle Josh's horse stopped, he backed in
the shafts, staggered, and fell, snapping one in twain.
Uncle Josh sprang to the ground with the agility of
a youth; he looked up and down the road, for he be¬
lieved something had appeared before the horse, caus¬
ing him to stumble and fall. Uncle Josh always
claimed that if a horse stopped still in the road,
pricked up his ears, and refused to go, all one had to
do was to look between his ears, and he could see the
cause of the horse's fright. The horse was now in
such a position that he could not well see between
his ears, for the animal was lying upon the ground
quite still, and his body beginning to assume the pro¬
portions of a bloated herring. The old man did all
in his power to coax the horse upon his feet-, he
pleaded to him, he raised his head, he unfastened the
harness and pushed the wagon away from his heels.
Walking around his body, he set up one of his pe¬
culiar incantations, but all to no avail. He took from
his pocket a bag made of rabbit skin, which contained
some kind of pulverized roots. The contents he scat¬
tered around—this being to keep away anything evil-


154
BOND AND FREE.
disposed. After spending much time in a useless at¬
tempt to get his horse upon his feet, the old man
looked up at the heavens, and discovered the gray
dawn of morning stealing from over the eastern hills.
He knew well what his back would have to take
should he be missed by the overseer, and to be
caught with his master's horse and wagon would be
worse yet. Then they might, perhaps, force him to
tell what he was doing out all night with the horse
and wagon. This he determined never to reveal, let
come what would.
When Uncle Josh saw morning approaching so
closely, his efforts to get the horse upon his feet be¬
came more and more frantic and ludicrous. He tugged
at his tail, he raised his head and tried to get that part
of the horse's anatomy upon his back, murmuring to
himself, "You'se got to go home before daylight, if
I has to tote you." Looking up the road, he saw a
man approaching him. who was just about to turn off
of the main road and enter a lane. Uncle Josh dis¬
covered that he was a slave just returning from a
night's revel. He hailed the man:
"See har, come har, honey, and help me git dis
hoss on my back, he's got to go home, for it's dead
nigger or dead hoss, anyways."
The man came forward, and when he looked at the
ludicrous situation, he laughed loudly and said ;
'"What's de matter, Uncle?''
"Lors, honey, I'se got to git dis hoss home 'fore


PUPIL AND TEACHER.
155
daylight, and he's done gone laid down on me and
won't move."
The man happened to have some knowledge of
horse-flesh, and after a careful examination, said:
"You've drove him hard, Uncle, but guess we can
bring him about."
He went to work, and in a short time had the ani¬
mal upon his feet. The horse was hitched to the
wagon, and Uncle Josh, profuse with thanks, mounted
his seat and soon reached home. He had just time
to turn the horse into the field, when the overseer's
horn blew for all hands to turn out. Mr. Biggers
was minus, from this escapade, the use of one of his
best horses, for the one Uncle Josh drove so hard
that night was hopelessly foundered, and the slaves
accounted for it by declaring that the witches had
ridden the animal to death.
The superstition, which was so prevalent among
the slaves, was not confined to them alone, for it af¬
fected the masters as well. There was not a South¬
ern slaveholder, cruel to his slaves, who was not as
abject a prey to superstitious fears as the most ignor
ant of his negroes. Our knowledge of the character of
Abraham Biggers would place him among this class.
When he heard of one of his best horses being hope¬
lessly foundered over night, instead of seeking the
true cause, sought solace in brandy and water, and
attributed his loss to unknown ill luck.
Purcey and Sallie were speeding along, placing
as great a distance between them and the old home


156
BOND AND FREE.
as the great iron monster could make with each rev¬
olution of the great driving-wheels. The two women
did not occupy the same car, for that was not custom.
The alleged mistress and her servant were separated
during the entire distance they traveled on the rail¬
road. Each was left alone to meditate and allow her
thoughts to indulge in whatever caprice she saw fit.
The thoughts of Purcey were freighted with fear; al¬
though there was much noise in the car, made by a
number of rough, coarse men, who made the air
dense with smoke from their pipes and cigars and
almost blue with their curses, yet she seemingly saw
not nor heard a thing that was said or done. She
was the object of many insulting and brutal remarks,
for it was in the men's car she rode. Many comments
were passed upon her appearance and value.
The girl had employed every art she knew to make
herself look simple and plain, but her efforts in this di¬
rection seemed to have made her, on the contrary,
all the more beautiful and attractive. She'had con¬
cealed her luxurious black hair, now grown again
since her recovery, under a neat little cap, which
nicely displayed the beautiful outlines of her face.
Her child, asleep upon her lap, caused her much anx¬
iety ; she knew that a heavy reward would be offered
by her master for her capture, and she feared that
she would be detected through the child. Its hair
was long and black like the mother's. It had been
Purcey s delight and pride to do it up in curls, which
hung gracefully about its shapely head. As she sat


158
BOND AND FREE.
and count the seconds; they seemed to her like min¬
utes. Her hand was kept upon her sleeping child, as
though she feared that some of the coarse, brutal men
who occupied the car would wrest it from her.
While sitting with her hand clasping the little
hands of her child, with her eyes closed, and her
mind wandering back to her mother and her husband,
who had been so ruthlessly taken from her, she felt
a rough hand grasp her shoulder. In a second she
was upon her feet, her hand sought her pocket, and
she stared, without a quiver of the lip or the twinkle
of an eye, into the face of the man who had so roughly
accosted her.
The man who stood before her was one of that type
of Southern gentlemen, from whose appearance it was
easy to detect that he was a "nigger trader." He
looked at Purcey with his bleared eyes, and said :
"Gal, where you travel in' to ? "
"I am traveling with my mistress," said Purcey.
" That ain't what I asked you. Whar you going? "
Purcey, divining the man's object in asking the
question, as well as discovering that he had no sus¬
picion about her, replied : " I don't know where my
mistress is going, as she never tells me her business."
" Well, whar you from? "
"Richmond," said Purcey.
" Air you and your mistress travelin' alone? "
"We are."
" How would you like me for a master? " And, as


PUPIL AND TEACHER.
159
he said this, he puffed a volume of tobacco smoke
from his corn-cob pipe full in her face.
"I don't know," said the girl, turning her head to
avoid the smoke.
"Wal, I think I'll see your mistress; by G—d, I
would like to own a gal like you; I'll give a thou¬
sand down."
As he said this, the child, which had been lying
upon the seat, awoke, and began to cry. Purcey
turned toward it and sat it up, giving it a large glass
ball to play with.
"Wal," said the trader, "that's a likely-looking
brat. So you and your mistress are travelin', and
she 'lows you to take that brat along ? D—m good
mistress. I'll go and see if I can strike a bargain
with her."
When he had turned his back, Purcey smiled,
and settled down into her seat. The trader retired
to one end of the car, where a group of his compan¬
ions had a board placed upon their knees, and were
deeply engaged in a game of draw-poker.
" Say. Jamison," said the trader, as he approached
the party, " I am going to buy that wench over thar
with the brat."
" Well, go buy her, then," said Mr. Jamison. " Don't
bother me about it; she ain't mine."
" Wal," said Mr. Sledger, " I know she ain't, but I
want you to drive the bargain for me."
" Who does she belong to? Two cards ! " said Mr.


160
BOND AND FREE.
Jamison, as lie threw a five dollar gold piece on the
board, and laid down two cards.
" To a young woman in the other car. I can't talk
to women, and I want you to go and talk the busi¬
ness."
Mr. Jamison was, in appearance, as well as in
speech, far more genteel than Mr. Sledger. Jamison
was a man of gentlemanly deportment, but fond of
sport; and he gained a rather precarious existence as
a pettifog lawyer. His garments were of the shabby-
genteel order, and his silk tile, though of rather an
ancient pattern, was brushed to a glossiness that told
of much labor having been spent upon it. He was
smooth of speech, and an instrument in the hands of
men of unsavory character in their dealings with the
business world. In fact, he earned a living, in find¬
ing loop-holes in the law for the escape of criminals,
and fixing doubtful papers to catch and hold runaway
slaves. He appeared not to like the interruption of
his sport. Being in luck, he raked in the contents
of the pot on a king full, and jumped up from the
game several dollars ahead, remarking that he must
attend to some business for his friend.
Mr. Sledger was very unlike the rather slick-look¬
ing Jamison, being a heavily built man, with coarse,
vulgar features. A frowsy beard of terra cotta hue,
made so by frequent expectorations of tobacco juice,
covered his chin. His shirt front was far from beinsr
immaculate, having upon it the traces of tobacco juice
and evidence of long wear. His large, unshapely head


PUPIL AND TEACHER. 161
was adorned with a wide-brimmed slouch hat, under
which was a matted mass of shaggy hair. To say
the least, he was rather repulsive, and was, as he ad¬
mitted, not calculated to approach any woman, espe¬
cially a Southern lady, on a subject of purchasing a
likely-looking slave woman. Jamison was given to
understand that he was to seek the mistress of Pur¬
cey, and ascertain whether she was for sale. In case
she was not, he was to offer some inducement to ef¬
fect a purchase.
" How am I to find the mistress ? " said Jamison.
" Go ask the gal which car she's in."
Mr. Jamison pulled himself together, looked down
at his boots, the toes of which were turned up much
like the little pug nose that adorned his weazen little
face. He approached Purcey unnoticed by her, as
she was intently gazing out of the window. Having
reached the seat where the girl was, Mr. Jamison re¬
moved from his narrow, little mouth the remnants of
a cigar, which he had held between his teeth since
the commencement of that little game of poker. Lift¬
ing his hat with mock civility; he said:
" Ah, young woman, in which car would I likely
find your mistress? "
Purcey, turning her head in the direction of the
speaker, said : " In the other car, sir,1' without indicat¬
ing which of the other cars she meant
" Ah, ah, the other car! First car rear or second ? "
" I don't know, sir," she quietly replied,
ii


162
BOND AND FREE.
" Don't know ? Ah, well, how should I be likely
to know her? "
u By making her acquaintance through an intro¬
duction, sir/'
Mr. Jamison stepped back as though he had been
struck. He had never heard such clever language
used by a slave. He looked at the girl, who had
again turned her face toward the window, with a
puzzled air, and remarked, as he shuffled off: " Clever,
ah, very clever. I will seek an introduction through
some one else, if I can—myself, if I cannot."
Mr. Jamison determined to trust to his luck and
his astute powers in discovering the mistress, if she
was on the train. Entering the ladies' car, he saun¬
tered through it, having deposited the unlighted
stump of his cigar in his coat pocket. When he got
nearly to the end of the car, he observed a lady sit¬
ting alone rather richly attired, and reclining at ease,
using a very heavy shawl as a pillow. In her lap
lay a newspaper and a novel. She was young, not
at all unprepossessing, and apparently asleep, or in a
deep study.
Jamison scrutinized her as closely as he could in
walking by. He walked to the end of the car, re¬
traced his steps, and, as he reached the seat, raised
his hat very high, bowed very low, and said: " Ah,
ah, miss, do the negro woman and child in the other
car belong to you ?"
"They do;" and Sallie Silvers, for it was she,


PUPIL ANI) TEACHER.
163
grew somewhat excited as she asked eagerly: " Why,
sir, has anything happened them ?"
"Ah ! ah! no. They are all right Only I have
been much attracted by them, and if they are for sale,
I should like to purchase them. I am a planter, and
assure you she would be well cared for and be in good
hands."
Sallie, to be sure, did not have a very extensive
knowledge of men ; her little education and experi¬
ence had not advanced her quite that far, but she had
that natural cleverness of a woman which led her
to the conclusion that Mr. Jamison was rather a
poor specimen of a Southern planter.
Having reached this conclusion, she thought that
she had better give him to understand at once that he
could not make a purchase. Assuming all the dig¬
nity she could, she said :
" The woman and child are not for sale, sir, and I
do not see what right you have to approach me upon
any such subject."
Mr. Jamison was a very cunning man, or we might
say, villain. This reply, under any other circum¬
stances, would never have daunted him ; but he had
approached a lone lady, a complete stranger to him,
in a railway car, and had asked an impertinent ques¬
tion. Should he insist upon further conversation, he
feared she might appeal to some gentleman for protec¬
tion, or, perhaps, she might have friends in the car
who would not hesitate to handle him roughly. He
bowed politely, stepping back as he said:


164
BOND AND FREE.
"Ah ! beg pardon. No offense meant, none what¬
ever, I assure you."
He, thereupon, quickly left the car. Joining Mr.
Sledger in the smoking-car, he informed that gentle¬
man that it was no use, for money would not buy
the woman. Mr. Sledger was much incensed, and
replied :
"Then by G I will steal her."
" What!" said Jamison, springing up as though he
had sat upon the business end of a tack. " Steal her!
What in the devil will you do with the brat?"
"Yes, steal her and the brat, too. No trouble about
the young one."
This novel idea had struck Mr. Sledger the mo¬
ment he learned that the girl could not be bought
He intended to learn their destination, follow them,
and, at the first opportunity, kidnap the girl and
carry her off. Circumstances alter cases sometimes,
and Mr. Sledger was brought to a full realization of
this fact in a manner he had not anticipated.
Through tickets had been purchased by Sallie
for a certain point under Purcey's instructions, but
after having traveled a considerable distance from
home, Purcey concluded that, in order to elude her
pursuers, they had better get off at some small station,
and cross the country to some other point. It was
now growing dark, and, under the cover of darkness,
they could leave the train at the next station without
attracting attention.
Arriving at this conclusion, she took her child, en-


PUPIL AND TEACHER.
165
tered the car where Sallie was, and communicated
her plan, which was, of course, agreed to by Sallie.
As Purcey left the seat which she had occupied in
the smoking-car, Mr. Sledger went in search of the
conductor to ascertain the destination of the lady who
had the negro nurse and child. The conductor in¬
formed him that they had through tickets for one of
the large Northern cities, and they would have to
change cars at B to take another road. Sledger
thought this his chance; he would wait until they
reached B , then he would try his hand at kid¬
napping the girl.
Darkness had now enveloped within its folds the
surrounding country. The night was not only dark,
but dismal. The clang of the bell of the locomotive,
and the shrill whistle which denotes the approach to
a station, sounded upon the night air. The speed of
the train was slackened as the trainman shouted the
name of a small station. Purcey and Sallie gathered
up their packages, and quietly, almost unnoticed, stole
from the train. They did not alight upon the side on
which was the building used as a station, but upon
the opposite side. The wind now began to howl
frightfully, while rain poured down in torrents. The
women and child stood closely huddled together.
Shortly, the bell of the locomotive rang again, the
whistle tooted, the attendant shouted " All aboard ! "
and the train slowly pulled away, leaving them stand¬
ing in front of the lonely little building. A dilapi¬
dated stage-coach could be dimly discerned through


PUPIL AND TEACHER.
167
sequently, not in a very good humor by being dis¬
turbed, and had to give up the solid comfort he had
intended to enjoy. He felt annoyed when the
women entered the coach, nor did the fact that his
traveling companions were to be females appear to
smooth his temper. Purcey and Sallie were also dis¬
appointed when they found that they would have to
ride in company with a stranger. They dared not
exchange a word or look for fear of being discovered.
How to get rid of this unwelcome and unsolicited
companion was a puzzle.
Women are remarkable creatures in any emer¬
gency ; they always have recourse to something. It
must be a very tight place where a woman of ordi¬
nary tact and ability cannot squeeze through. Pur¬
cey had conveyed to Sallie, without uttering a word,
that the little man must be gotten upon the outside
of the coach, and that she must do it. Sallie under¬
stood that unless this was done, they would be un¬
able to mature their plans before reaching the village.
The little man with the rim of gray hair, having
been forced to withdraw his feet from their comfort¬
able position, sat with his knees drawn nearly up to
his chin ; and, from the occasional grunt which came
from the corner of the coach he occupied, the women
judged that he was either very much out of humor
with himself or with them. Purcey had made a
pallet for her child in a corner of the very seat upon
which the little old man sat. The child, entirely un¬
conscious of its rudeness, was stretching and kicking


168
BOND AND FREE.
out its feet so violently that the little man would have
gotten off the seat had there been any other to oc¬
cupy. He kept crowding closer to the corner, while
with each gentle pinch given the child's leg by Pur-
cey, the old man was made more uncomfortable.
Sallie, seeing that it was now time for her to speak,
said, addressing Purcev:
" Perhaps you annoy the gentleman. You had bet¬
ter take the child and sit outside."
There are but few men of Southern birth who are
not chivalrous and gallant. A genuine Southern
gentleman is ever ready to display his gallantry; but
such gallantry was displayed for those of their own
color only. A black person was never entitled to
any recognition in this direction. Consequently, to
find a man in a Southern country who had any re¬
gard or feeling for a black woman, under any circum¬
stances, was to find a most uncommon man. Such
did the occupant of the coach, who was now well
wedged up in the corner of the stage, prove to be.
. He may have been actuated b}^ a sense of the un¬
pleasantness of the situation, or, possibly, by a desire
to display his gallantry to Sallie. Whatever the
cause, the women were none the less successful in
their little piece of strategy, for without speaking a
word to them, he pushed open the door, commanded
the driver to stop, alighted from the coach, and took
a seat outside with the driver, leaving them to make
whatever arrangements they saw fit.
The train which left Sallie and Purcey at the little


CHAPTER XV.
The Judge's Sister.
Judge Coleman had gone a number of miles, fol¬
lowed by bis recent acquisition to bis fortune, when
he turned the head of his horse into one of those
long and beautiful lanes common in the Southern
country. Upon either side of this lane were planted
many tall poplar trees, which stood stately and erect
like silent sentinels. Up this beautiful avenue they
rode until the end was reached, when they,came in
sight of one of those old but substantial stone houses,
partly concealed by-the thick foliage of creeping vines
that grew around it. The judge rode around the house
to the rear, where numerous out-houses and stables
built of the same substantial material were located.
Having reached the gate which separated.the stable-
yard from a garden laid out in beautiful flower plots,
where the poppy and chrysanthemum grew in pro¬
fusion, he dismounted from his horse, bade William
follow his example, and directed him to remain there
with the horses. He then walked up to the rear door
of the mansion, and, without so much as lifting the
large brass knocker which hung upon the panel of
the door, entered. He was met, upon entering the
house, by a matronly-looking lady dressed in cap and
gown, and who addressed him as J ere.
[171]


172
BOND AND FREE.
The reception accorded him was not a warm one.
The lady bowed somewhat stiffly, as she inquired, in
rather a surprised air: " Why, Jere, what brings you
here? '"
The judge did not appear to like the inquisitive-
ness of the lady, and, without answering her ques¬
tion, said: " Send a servant to show my man where
to put the horses."
" Your man, Jere! What man ?
" My black man. You don't suppose I am such a
beggar that I cannot afford a servant, do you ? "
To this rather discourteous remark, the ]ady made
no reply, but rang the bell, summoning a servant,
and directed him to attend to the judge's orders.
The lady who had just received the judge, in a man¬
ner evincing that she had no great affection for him,
was the Widow Dean, whose acquaintance the reader
will now have an opportunity to form more closely.
The Widow Dean was Judge Coleman's only surviv¬
ing relative, his sister. She was the relict of Colonel
Woodson Dean, who won distinction and shoulder-
straps in the Mexican war. Returning home, he ap¬
plied himself to the cultivation of tobacco and the
enthrallment of his fellow-man. After spending a
life in extravagance and debauchery, he died, leaving
a widow almost penniless, but who remained faithful
to his memory. The Widow Dean had never admired
her brother's reckless manner of living; besides, he
had so imposed upon her generosity as almost to im¬
poverish her. He had obtained a considerable amount


THE JUDGES SISTER.
173
of money, which he never returned her. While Judge
Coleman's sister always extended the hospitality of
her home to her vagabond brother, she never could
meet him without reproving him, or lecturing him
upon his extravagant ways. The judge, in view of
this fact, was not a frequent visitor at his sister's
house, but being now burdened with a kind of white
elephant, in the form of a slave, for whom he had no
use, except to convert into money, he determined,
upon hearing of the runaway of the widow's Jim,
to present her with another trusty servant, providing
a few hundred dollars were paid in cash, a balance of
a few hundred more forthcoming when needed.
The Widow Dean entered the large and comfort¬
able parlor, closely followed by her brother. She
seated herself before one of those old-fashioned fire¬
places in which a bright fire was burning. The room
and the furniture were in keeping with the exterior
appearance of the house; every piece of furniture
was arranged with the utmost care, the pictures, the
ornaments, everything about the room showed evi¬
dence of the taste and refinement of its owner. There
was a striking contrast between the brother and sister
as they sat in their respective positions. The Widow
Dean was a very independent woman; having been
left almost penniless by her late husband, she grasped
the management of her affairs like a woman of mettle,
and out of a much encumbered estate, after clearing
off mortgages, she improved, repaired, and generally
increased the value of everything left her. It is true


174
BOND AND FREE.
she had enjoyed a small income from the estate of
her father, but her brother, who had been executor,
being her senior by several years, had not taken the
pains or care to protect either his sister's or his own
interest, but yielding to his political ambition, he had
sacrificed that which was his own, as well as that
which he held in trust, to satiate a desire of which,
after experiencing, he soon grew weary.
The Widow Dean's countenance bore the traces of
beauty and refinement. Her early days had been
spent in luxury. Her beauty had brought to her
feet many admirers who worshipped her as a god¬
dess. She was naturally haughty, but her quick and
intelligent mind saved her from being termed austere.
Unlike most Southern women, she had a heart over¬
flowing with sympathy and kindness. She owned but
very few slaves, and these few were indulged to an
extent that made their lot not an unpleasant one.
She never allowed any of her servants to be whip¬
ped, and when they were recalcitrant, she would call
them in to her, and gently reprimand them. She was
never known to sell or buy a servant. Jim, who so
unceremoniously left her for greater freedom, had
been left to her by her late husband, and she had
raised him almost from the cradle. This is why she
parted with him with such reluctance, and offered so
heavy a reward for his return. Had Jim been cap¬
tured and returned to her, she would simply have
reprimanded hirn, and trusted him as implicitly as
she had formerly.


THE JUDGE'S SISTER.
175
Her views upon the right of one human being to
own another possessed the peculiarly strange like¬
ness to certain charitable Christains, "whose cloak
of charity stretches so far that it becomes rather thin."
She may not have believed that slavery was right
and just; she may have thought it cruel and wicked
to treat humanity like dumb brutes, but then this
humanity was black, and the law of the land, as well
as precedent, decreed that white should rule and black
be ruled. So, with the same kindly feeling that a
good master has for his dog, did the Widow Dean
care for her servants. They were well fed, well
dressed, and generally well treated. When Jim left
her, she thought him very ungrateful, and felt cer¬
tain that he would never be able to get along. She
gave but little thought as to his motive for leaving a
home so good and a mistress so kind, and attributed
his running away to the influence of evil companions.
When her brother came to her at this time, she had
not thought of adding to her household by the pur¬
chase of another servant, for she was too much cha¬
grined at Jim's running away. The judge had often
prevailed upon her to increase the number of ser¬
vants about the place, but she had persistently refused
to listen to, or heed, his advice, which seemed to her
to be followed at all times by misfortune. She had
never taken her brother's advice that it did not prove
abortive; consequently, she had schooled herself so
in business that she managed her own affairs quite
ably.


176
BOND AND FREE.
The judge, as we have said, was not a frequent
visitor at his sister s house 5 and his business here at
this time was to leave the man whom he had won from
his friend, and take his value in cash, this being far
more serviceable and less troublesome to him than
having a slave traveling around the country with
him. He always avoided a controversy with his sis¬
ter when he could, for he disliked her to discourse
upon the evil of his ways, for which ways he con¬
sidered himself alone responsible. He did not like
any interference with the manner in which he saw fit
to pass his life. He knew well the disposition of
his sister; he knew her weaknesses and the bent of
her sympathy; and he knew that, if he wanted to
win his object, he must play the penitent, whether in
earnest or not—not that this would be anything new
for him to play. He had often resorted to the same
expedient, to obtain loan after loan and favor upon
favor from his sister.
Far be it from my intention, dear reader, to lead
you to the impression that Judge Jere Coleman was
a dependent upon his sisters bounty. He was too
proud a man for that; his noble and proud spirit
would not permit him to do anything so unmanly
and base. But it must be remembered that the judge
was a politician, and could view matters in a light
far different from other men. Favors bestowed were
often considered'in the light of honors. While the
judge scorned the idea of being a dependent, he found


178
BOND AND FREE.
point: I want to leave with you the man that I have.
He is a good servant, and useful at anything you
may see fit to put him."
" Where do you intend to go, Jere, and why do
you suppose I shall be pleased at your departure?
Is not my door always open to you? Are you not
always welcome here—yes, welcome to remain here
with your servant as long as you will ? Oh ! if you
would but stop this roving about from place to
place," and the tears began to steal down her cheeks.
"At it again," thought the judge, but he did not
lose patience; he continued to speak kindly,—" Ma¬
tilda, I could not be so dependent upon you; I could
never permit myself to accept such kindness as you
offer, without making you some adequate return.
No; I should rather you would accept from your
brother the gift of this boy, as a slight return for the
many favors you have done me."
I do not want the man ; I do not want any more
servants about the place, especially any strange ones.
He might put all sorts of mischief into the others
heads, and give me much trouble I do not care to
have. If you will remain and take the responsibility
of him yourself, I shall be ever so happy to have
vou; but, Jere, my dear brother, where did you get
this man ? "
Judge Coleman looked at his sister with an inquir-
ing glance. He had expected this question, yet he was
not prepared with an answer; nor did he deem it either
prudent or advisable to tell her just where the man


THE JUDGE'S SISTEK.
179
came from, jet he knew that if he did not, there was
a possibility of the man's enlightening her himself.
" What does it matter, Sis (this appellation was used
by the judge when falling on familiar terms with his
sister), whence he came ? He is mine. I bought him,
and paid for him, and if you won't accept him, then
let me leave him with you. until I make arrangements
elsewhere."
Mrs. Dean was determined not to have any strange
servants mingled with hers. She did not doubt that
her brother was truthful in his statements, but she
could not understand how he came in possession of
the means to spend upon such a luxury as a servant.
She knew that his small income did not admit of it, nor
did his former inclinations. She was puzzled to know
his real object in being so very desirous to leave the
man with her, so she remained obdurate; and her un¬
yielding disposition caused her brother to lose patience
and temper.
" Then you will not accept him as a gift, nor permit
him to remain here on the place unless I consent to
remain ? That I do not see fit to do, and to-morrow,
my dear, kind sister," said the judge sarcastically, "I
shall bid you farewell."
"As you will, Jere. You know you always did have
your own way," and Mrs. Dean arose from her seat,
and walked toward the window which opened into the
garden ; she stopped, and, turning, faced her brother,
who saw tears standing in her eyes. She exclaimed,—
" Oh, Jere, why do you give me so much pain ! Why


THE JUDGE'S SISTER
181
and forgetful of, those left behind, we could very
readily form the same conclusion that Jonathan Max¬
well and his wife formed. But can this be supposed?
Is the human heart, whether within the bosom of a
bondman or a freeman, senseless to those pulsations
of nature, susceptible to love or hatred, misery or
happiness? Has nature provided humanity with such
control over its forces that we can dismiss at will,
regardless of all our surroundings, the things upon
which our hopes, our very existence seems to depend?
Can we, because of a forced change in circumstances
and surroundings, put aside and consign to oblivion
the cherished hopes of life? More likely is the
human heart to dwell, to linger, to cling with perti¬
nacity and obstinacy to that which it is compelled to
relinquish. The more painful the separation, the
harder is it to forget. The very heart-strings of Wil¬
liam had been torn asunder by this separation from
his wife and child.
We have spoken of his devotion to them, of the
pride he took in his only child; and when he fol¬
lowed his new master, as he believed, into a deeper
and more relentless servitude, the bitterest and most
acute pains shot through his bosom. There was no
change, no treatment, however good, that could miti¬
gate the cruelty of this separation; and as he told
those around him, with tears streaming from his eyes,
of the beautiful wife and the loving child he had been
taken from, perhaps for ever, he was indeed an ob¬
ject of commiseration. The motley group of hearers


184
BOND AND FREE.
lie knew, that to tell her he had been ruthlessly and
cruelly separated from his wife and child would but
tend to place him under close surveillance, thereby
preventing his intended escape.
In ninety cases out of a hundred, this would have
been the result had he dared to present such a pro¬
position to his mistress or master; but could William
have understood that the mistress to whom he now
owed obedience differed materially from the average
Southern woman, he would have made his appeal.
He would have thrown into it all of the eloquence
possible for him to summon; he would have en¬
deavored to touch some chord of sympathy, thus se¬
curing a kind word or a promise. But no; he re¬
frained from giving expression to his thoughts, and
Mrs. Dean, who would have commanded her brother
to return the man to his master, was left to think that
William was taciturn and sullen, and, consequently,
not a fit one to be about her good-natured servants.
Immediately upon her brother's return, she approached
him concerning William, insisting that he should be
taken away from the place.
The judge had some reluctance about selling Wil¬
liam to the traders, and yet he realized that some dis¬
position must be made of him, profitable, of course,
to himself. Finding that his sister not onlv objected
to advancing him any money on the man, but posi¬
tively insisted on his removal, he decided to sell him
to the first " nigger-trader " that came along.
This species of genus homo was very numerous, as


THE JUDGE'S SISTER.
185
a matter of course, throughout the South, negro-
trading being far more profitable than dealing in
horses and cattle. The two were, however, closely
allied in many cases, for a trader would often come
from the far South with a herd of cattle, and return
with a goodly supply of negroes, consisting of men,
women, and children. These traders were adepts at
the business, and knew just what kind of negroes the
market required. They attended all the slave-mar¬
kets and private sales, and bought wherever they
could get a bargain, realizing on their investments
just as a man does in any ordinary business transac¬
tion. In addition to their business of buying and
selling these slaves, they indulged in stealing and
kidnapping free negroes. This was a little risky, but
very remunerative, and, consequently, popular. The
negro-trader was not looked upon as the best type of
a citizen; he was not quite so highly regarded as a
wealthy planter, who owned several hundred slaves,
and who bought, traded, or sold at will. He was
viewed rather with suspicion and mistrust, and
thought capable of doing many things that a respect¬
able man would scorn. Usually, he commanded
large sums of money, had a great fondness for
whisky, tobacco, and poker. He could be seen upon
steamboats, at hotels, around jails, and at slave-pens,
being easily distinguished from other men by his
broad-rimmed hat, soiled shirt, scrubby beard, swag¬
gering gait, and the bull-whip invariably under his
arm. His keen eye took in at a glance every defect


186
BOND AND FREE.
about the man or the woman he wished to purchase.
In order to test the abilities and qualities of an in¬
tended purchase, a male was compelled to bend his
body, jump, show his teeth, and bring his muscles
generally into play. A female was subjected to much
the same, undergoing many cruel indignities, utterly
regardless of her sex.
Being a class apparently created without a grain of
human feeling, they (the traders) would take a
mother from her babe, a husband from a wife, or
vice versa. Tears never appealed to their sympathies,
for they were devoid of any. All appeals were an¬
swered by the crack of the whip. They would go
through the country and purchase as many slaves as
their funds would permit, and after depositing them
safely in jail, would collect them and start them in
droves for the far South, where good prices were
given by the owners of large rice and cotton planta¬
tions for good, able-bodied men and women. While
making these long excursions, women and children
were placed in wagons and the men were shackled
together and driven from sunrise to sunset. From
three to four white men generally drove herds of a
hundred or more, and, at night, when they encamped,
one or two watched while the others slept. These
poor creatures, over whom they watched, were as
completely cowed by the presence of one or two
men as they would have been by an army. They
might have rebelled, it is true, but such an uprising
would have amounted comparatively to nothing; for


THE JUDGE'S SISTER.
187
there was the strong arm of the law, a sure and ready
protection for all whites and a constant menace to
these abused people, making them powerless, no
matter what their number, to ameliorate their forlorn
condition.
A better representative of the Southern "nigger-
trader " than Jasson Lillie could not be found. He
made periodical visits through the section of country
in which the Widow Dean resided. He had grown
up from youth in the business, and as he entered in¬
to manhood, had divested himself of conscience,
honor, and respectability; so Jass Lillie was minus
none of the qualities or knowledge requisite for a
most successful "nigger-trader." He had probably
reached his fortieth year, but looked much older, his
hair being grizzly. His low forehead, broad mouth,
and bull-like neck bespoke the man. He could
round off an oath and deal cards with an avidity that
gave him an enviable reputation among his compan¬
ions, while his judgment as to the value, soundness,
and salable qualities of a negro was unerring. He
never took any risks when once lie put his money in
a man or woman, and from the time he bought until
he sold, security and vigilance were his watch words.
Merciless and brutal in the extreme, he thought no
more of throwing his big bull-whip upon the back
of a negro man or woman, than upon the back of a
steer.
When he made his periodical trip, he spent but
little time on a bargain, for time was money to Mr.


188
BOND AND FBEE.
Lillie. He was sure at all times to get the best of a
bargain. Jass Lillie's time for passing through certain
sections of the country was as well known to the slaves
as to the masters, and every slave in that particular
vicinity would grow restless and frightened when the
time approached for his appearance. Many of them
would conceal themselves, fearing that Lillie would
see them and offer to purchase them from their
masters. To the slaves he was a dreaded and unwel¬
come visitor; while to many of the masters he was
ever welcome. It had been some six months since
Jass Lillie had visited the section of country where
the Widow Dean lived, and it had been more than
that many years since he had stopped within her
domains, at which time he was given to understand
by the Widow Dean that there was no opening for
his business upon her premises. Mr. Lillie rounded
off a few selected oaths at the time lost, and never
lost any more by stopping there.
He was now daily expected, and the only slaves
for miles that were not disturbed by this piece of in¬
telligence were the Widow Dean's. Her brother
shared in the general expectation proceeding Lillie's
arrival; for he had decided to dispose of William,
and Jass Lillie was the man to whom he would sell
him. The judge and Jass were not strangers to each
other, as they had met before on similar business—the
former having disposed of much of his own property
to this speculator in human beings, and he knew just
how to drive a bargain with him.


THE JUDGE'S SISTER.
189
The sun crept up from over the eastern hills, and
bathed the rich verdure in its softest rajs. The dew
upon the grass and the flowers seemed to sparkle and
laugh with joy as it was kissed with the golden flood
of light. The hyacinths and pinks looked particu¬
larly bright this morning, as they hung in profusion
about the Widow Dean's manor-house. The ivy and
creeping smilax glistened in the sunshine, creep¬
ing up and entwining themselves in and out of the
crevices of the old stone walls. It was one of those
beautiful spring mornings when all nature seemed
happy, bright, and smiling. The water in the little
brooklet dashed along as though keeping time to the
music of the birds that flitted from tree to tree with
their merry chirping; and it moved on in its course,
only intercepted by some huge, moss-covered rock,
which would break it into a thousand little sparkling
jets, glistening and shining in the sunlight like bright
crystal gems. The horn of the overseer, as he sum¬
moned the field-hands to work, sounded upon the
still, clear air, then died away and lost itself in the
thick foliage of the mountain. Every living thing
seemed to catch new life and inspiration from the
sweet morning air. The old slave, turning out from
his quarters, walked with unusual suppleness and agil-
itv, while the little pickaninnies, with nappy hair and
rolling eyes, sprang out from the little whitewashed
cabins and gamboled about in the dewy grass in lieu
of a bath.
Judge Coleman arose long before his accustomed


190
BOND AND FREE.
hour, stalked oat into the stable, and ordered a horse
saddled. The order being obeyed, he mounted his
spirited animal and wound his way through the long
line of stately poplars, whose boughs and leaves bent
and bowed to the gentle breeze, as if in salute to the
early rider. lie rode directly to the town of E ,
stopped his horse in front of the inn, and inquired if
Jass Lillie had arrived. He was informed that that
individual was a guest at the hostel rie, and if the
gentleman would dismount, his horse would be at¬
tended to and Mr. Lillie informed of his presence.
So important a Southern gentleman as Judge Cole¬
man was, of course, widely known, and as Mr. Kurtz-
man, the landlord of the Black Horse tavern, made
the remark, he hailed a negro servant girl, address¬
ing her by the euphonious cognomen of Alanthe.
" Tell the gentleman in the room, first floor front,
that Judge Coleman, ex-member of Congress, wishes
to see him."
The servant girl, who might have been taken for
a boy from the scarcity of hair on her head, and the
coat-like garment she wore reaching down to her
knees, exposing a pair of very black and very thin
legs, very large feet whose toes stood apart with per¬
fect individuality, disappeared from the bar-room and
office, and in an incredibly short time, returned, say¬
ing:
"Glass bitters. Gemmen says gemmen come up."
The glass of bitters was ordered by Mr. Lillie, who
had not yet arisen, as an eye-opener. The order was


192
BOND AND FREE.
lady, give me devil once. Never stop now. No use,
only time lost." Lillie continued to jerk out his
sentences in this way until his toilet was finished.
Starting toward the door, he said to the judge: " Been
to breakfast? Late this morning; join me." The
judge thanked him, but declined the invitation, re¬
marking that he would accompany him to the break¬
fast table, which he did.
Lillie, to save time, had ordered his breakfast, which
was set before him in a very short time after he was
seated at the table. Judge Coleman seated himself
at his side, and while Lillie shoveled the food into
his mouth, employing both hands and knife and fork,
the judge informed him that he had a negro man he
wanted to sell, and asked Lillie whether he wanted
to buy him.
With his mouth full of food, Lillie replied : " Buy
him, buy him, course. Sound? Healthy? Under
forty? Ten hundred, sight unseen. Any defects, no
sale."
"But ten hundred ain't enough, Lillie ; I paid fif¬
teen for him."
" Can't help it. Market slow, demand poor, ex¬
pense clear to Georgia. Bring him up, may do bet¬
ter. Be back in ten days. Nigger, git my horse."
The last remark was addressed to the servant of
all work, Alanthe, who was now lazily engaged, with
a large paper brush, in keeping the flies off the table.
"Yes, sah!" was the reply, as she bounded from


194
BOND AND FREE.
and farther away from his reach. The hope of again
seeing his beloved wife was not lost entirely, but it
appeared like a delusion, though he still prayed,
trusted, and believed a way would open up to him
that would lead him out of bondage. His religious
zeal made him too reliant. He waited upon some
manifestation of the power of Providence, and be¬
came entirely passive as to what was required of
him. He lost sight of that great truth, "God helps
those who help themselves,'' and continued to wait
for an evidence of Godly help. He was courageous
and manly, and never abandoned his intention to es¬
cape, but his lack of resolution and confidence in
himself proved a fatal blunder, and resulted in his
being taken still farther from a free land. lie had
no knowledge, or, in fact, did he think for a moment,
that the wife he loved so dearly was bravely strug¬
gling on toward freedom. Had William McCullar
been in possession of this information, he would have
risked his life to reach her; the fetters of slavery
would have been burst asunder, and he would have
made a desperate effort for freedom. As it was, be¬
ing entirely in ignorance of their escape, and partly
in doubt of the advisability of attempting to escape,
himself, he hesitated too long, and, as I have said,
was borne farther away from wife and child and lib¬
erty.
William had finished serving the breakfast for his
new mistress and master, and had seated himself
at a table in the kitchen to eat his own. The break-


196
BOND AND FREE.
driver. There were not many negroes upon the place,
as we have said, and the few who were there were,
as far as their mistress was concerned, well treated,
and it was a most fortunate thing for them, with such
a driver as Uncle Dick, that they had so kind a mis¬
tress. The average Southern overseer was specially
and carefully selected for his cruelty and brutality.
He required the reputation of a hard driver as a re¬
commendation to entitle him to employment by a
large planter ; he had to have combined the instincts
of a blood hound and a perfect knowledge of " nig¬
gers " ; it was necessary for him to know how to ob¬
tain plenty of work from half-fed mortals, and to
look upon a slave, not as a human creature, but as a
thing to be driven by the crack of the whip, and
worked until quite exhausted.
They were selected from among the poorest of
poor whites ; and the exalted position of overseer and
their hatred and prejudice of a black man, made them
fit subjects for such positions. An exception was
made by some slave-holders, who were far-sighted,
by selecting from among their negroes an overseer.
"Wherever this was the case, the slaves were made
to suffer, if possible, greater persecution than under
a white man. The authority given them over their
brethren, and their great anxiety to retain it by pleas¬
ing their masters, led them to extremes in their treat¬
ment. They had better opportunities to know the
habits of those under them ; they knew whenever a
man or woman was off on a frolic, and if one lagged


THE JUDGE'S SISTER.
197
behind while working in the field next day, no mercy
was shown, nor was the lash spared. White men were
hard drivers and cruel overseers, but black men ex¬
ceeded them, besides being very deceptive and treach¬
erous. They would pry into the secrets of the poor
slaves, and then expose them to their masters.
Uncle Dick was one of this class, but could not ex¬
ercise his punishing powers, as the Widow Dean drew
the line at this point. But he made his fellow-slaves
suffer every hardship he could inflict, and took great
pleasure in watching them and conveying news to his
mistress. He had been instructed to conduct Wil¬
liam safely to the Black Horse, and not inform him of
the object. The commission could not have been dele¬
gated to one more faithful. He drove the horses and
kept a close eye on William, while a broad smile
occasionally overspread his face. He knew the ob¬
ject of taking William to the tavern, as the time for
Jass Lillie's return had arrived.
When the tavern was reached, several men, women,
and children were seen in various attitudes of ease,
within a kind of inclosure similar to a cattle stockade,
while two men of rather unprepossessing appearance
performed guard duty over them.
On the front porch of the tavern, Lillie stood with
his hands hid away in the pockets of his trousers, roll¬
ing a large quid of tobacco from one side of his some¬
what capacious mouth to the other, watching William
as he sprang lightly from the carriage. Upon alight¬
ing, William walked up to his master who was stand-


198
BOND AND FREE.
ing by Lillie's side, politely touched his hat, aiid
awaited orders.
" Well-er, that's the nigger?" said Lillie, nodding
his head toward William.
" That's he," replied the judge, " and a better one
never broke bread." This was said in a very low
voice, as if not intended for William's ears.
"Boy, boy, come here. Open yer mouth," said
Lillie. '
William obeyed, and Lillie poked his dirty fingers
into the man's mouth, feeling his upper and lower
jaw teeth. " Bend over. Touch the ground. Jump,"
and as he said this, he dexterously swung his bull-
whip over his head, and made it crack like a pistol
shot.
William sprang some two feet into the air, and
came down lightly upon his toes. Lillie walked to
him, roughly felt his limbs, and watched the develop¬
ment of his muscles as he worked them. Then turn¬
ing to the judge said:
" Twelve hundred. Aint worth d cent more."
" No, sir," said the judge; "fifteen, or home he goes."
"Fifteen!" said Lillie, eyeing the judge closely,
"Can't stand it; great risk; market slow; demand
poor; expense great; no time to dicker; thirteen
and half—no more. Mitchell, git them ar niggers
ready. Move on." The last remark was addressed
to one of the drivers, who at once proceeded to arouse
the group of slaves by kicking and thumping them,
and afterwards telling them to get up.


THE JUDGE'S SISTER.
199
"He is jours," said the judge, turning and enter¬
ing the tavern. Lillie called up one of his men, and
said: " Put that ar nigger in the drove ; buckle him
good ; don't take any foolishness off him." He then
followed Judge Coleman into the tavern, counted out
thirteen hundred and fifty dollars, handed it to the
judge, taking a receipt something like the following:
E- , May — 18—.
Jasson Lillie to Judge J. Coleman, Br.
To one negro man, called William, five feet two inches; dark-
brown color; good features; compactly built. Sound health
guaranteed.
$1,350 Received Payment, •
J. Coleman.
Lillie spelled the receipt over, placed it in his wal¬
let, and said:
" Any more like him, Coleman, bring 'em along.
Market slow ; demand poor; but buy anyhow."
The drivers now busied themselves in getting the
women and children into the wagons and hand-cuff¬
ing the men together in pairs, running a chain along
between them. William was hand-cuffed to a burly,
black fellow. The front part of the chain was at¬
tached to the wagon, the drivers mounted their horses,
the whips cracked, and the cavalcade started south¬
ward. William McCullar's heart throbbed with pain
as he now realized that each step bore him farther
from his wife and child and liberty.


CHAPTER XVI.
A Mother's Sacrifice.
It was well into the night when Uncle Joshua drove
away from the Maxwell estate with Purcey and Sallie
Silvers in Mr. Biggers' wagon. After watching them
until the darkness hid them from view, the mother re¬
turned to the house. Elva had no superstitious fears,
notwithstanding her great confidence in the power to
which she invariably appealed for assistance. Her
belief that Providence had selected her to aid in the
escape of her fellow-creatures from bondage to free¬
dom was as honest as any belief ever entertained in
human bosom. This idea was strengthened from the
fact that none whom she had assisted to escape had
ever been captured or returned. Now that her own
child had gone—she whom she loved with the tender-
est affection of a mother—she felt that no sacrifice,
however great, would be too much to make for her
protection. She was now to act a part which must,
eventually, end in detection ; and would, in all proba¬
bility, lead to a terrible punishment—she alone to be
the sufferer. Her mistress and master must be kept
in ignorance of Purcey's departure for several days,
or, at least, until she had a fair opportunity to escape
into a free land. Everything now rested with her;
she summoned all of her determination and courage
[2110]


a mother's sacrifice.
201
and put in operation her full powers of deception.
Usually thoughtful and collected, in her changed
manner she seemed somewhat inclined to impulsive¬
ness.
Entering the house, she carefully fastened the door,
and crept softly through the rooms and halls, until
the door of her master's room was reached. Every¬
thing was clothed in inky darkness ; not a sound dis¬
turbed the death-like stillness, except the regular
breathing of the sleepers within their rooms.
Through all of that great house, from kitchen to
the bed-room of her master, situated in the extreme
east wing of the house, she had crept, without com¬
ing in contact with a single piece of furniture or mak¬
ing a misstep. She listened at the door for a moment,
her breath coming thick and fast. Within her bosom
a fearful conflict was passing. She placed her hand
upon the door-knob, and withdrew it suddenly, as if
something had stung her; she thrust her hand into
her bosom and drew forth a leather sheath, and
drawing out the shining blade of a knife, she again
approached the door, but hesitated. Should she en¬
ter? Could she not, with one stroke of that weapon,
rid herself of the man that held her and her children
in bondage? Yet this would not release the fetters
from their limbs. But then Purcey would be safe,
and what would it then matter though the law hold
her?
She did not fear death, she did not fear the cruelest
■ounishment. If she plunged that dagger to the hilt


a mother's sacrifice.
203
ways entertained a fear. He had good reasons at
that time to be frightened.
While Elva was greatly changed in mind, she was
even more so in appearance, due to the excitement of
the last hour or so. Her hair now hung in a dishev¬
eled mass about her shoulders; her face was pale
and haggard, while her eyes wore a wild and restless
expression. Her lips were thin and bloodless, and a
nervous twitching appeared about the corners of her
mouth. The child did not know whether this was an
apparition or not, so unseasonable was the hour for
Elva to be there.
She hurriedly and noiselessly left the room, went
down to the kitchen, crossed the yard, and entered
one of the many cabins. Approaching a heap of
straw huddled in one corner of the room, she gently
shook the sleeping form of a girl, and bending her
head close to the girl's ear she whispered, in "sepul¬
chral tones: "Em, Em, get up." The girl, upon
recognizing the voice, arose hastily, donned the one
garment that composed her wearing apparel, and,
obeying a sign from Elva, followed her into the yard.
She instructed Emeline to go to the nursery and re¬
main. Em had stolen away from the nursery to en¬
joy a night's rest, free from Master Archie's annoy¬
ance. She reluctantly obeyed her mother, who now
returned to her own room, threw herself upon the
bed, and tried to find solace in sleep. But no sleep
came to her eyes. She tossed uneasily upon the bed
for several hours, until the morning came and the


a mother's sacrifice.
205
reading for awhile, then sleeping, and at times com¬
plaining. The question of Purcey's continued ab¬
sence from her duties became the subject of Mrs.
Maxwell's complaints.
During Purcey's illness, it had been the custom of
Jonathan Maxwell and his wife to make inquiries
daily regarding her health. These inquiries were
made invariably of Elva, who permitted no one but
herself to enter the sick room or answer these inqui¬
ries. This precaution had been adopted by her in
order to assume all responsibility of the escape, and
to allow as much time as possible to elapse before
Purcey's escape could be discovered.
The irrepressible Elo had been very inquisitive,
and her mother found great difficulty in keeping her
from Purcey's room. Had the room been located in
any other part of the house, it would undoubtedly
have been invaded by Elo; but it was directly over
the kitchen, being reached by a flight of stairs from
the kitchen only. The approach was, consequently,
ever under watch of the mother, who had to cajole Elo
in every imaginable manner. Never had the child
eaten so many good things in her life, as in the brief
time pending the discovery of Purcey's escape. She
came bounding into the house one day when Elva
was absent from the kitchen. She looked around,
and not seeing any one, stole softly to the steps. Lis¬
tening, she could hear nothing. Then creeping softly
up the steps, she reached the door of the room where
Purcey had been sick, and peered through the key-


a mother's sacrifice.
207
unless I send for you. Now go," and she pushed
her out of the door.
Elo looked at her black arm, where the prints of
her mothers fingers still remained, and, rubbing that
member, she exclaimed:
" Gollv ! didn't mamma look wild, and didn't she
hurt dis darkey's arm ! "
The ordeal now came at last. Emeline had sum¬
moned Elva to her mistress, and she fully realized
that she must now face the inevitable. The leniency
of her mistress, of late, surprised her. For several
days Mrs. Maxwell had, contrary to her custom, sub¬
mitted to many inconveniences on account of the
alleged illness of one of her servants. Had she made
a peremptory demand for Pureey's presence, she
would have been less surprised, though disheartened;
for then Purcey would not have had the long start
she now enjoyed.
Mrs. Maxwell was reclining in an easy chair, her
feet resting upon a velvet-covered divan. A book
lay in her lap, the pages of which she had been care¬
lessly perusing. A rich robe of pink silk hung in
graceful folds about her, and a simple knot of white
lace encircled her beautiful throat. She was a hand¬
some woman, and, as she sat in her morning-gown,
free from all adornments, displaying only that beauty
which nature had so lavishly bestowed upon her, her
husband could not help but yield to her every re¬
quest. Her long, rich, brown hair hung in profusion
about her shoulders, her skin was as delicate and


208
BOND AND FREE.
transparent as pearl, her lips were of a rosy hue, dis¬
closing teeth as white as snow. She looked more
like a goddess of love and beauty than the unfeeling
woman that she was. Jonathan had for some time
been endeavoring to straighten some accounts, but,
owing to the frequent interruptions of his wife, had
not completed his task. Mrs. Maxwell tapped her
shapely foot upon the divan upon which it rested.
Inclining her head lazily to one side, she said, with a
half petulant air:
"Jonathan, I do wish you would put up those
books. I have been talking to you all this time, and
you have not paid me any attention whatever."
He ceased writing, pushed his chair back from the
desk, and looked admiringly at his wife.
"Now, pet," said he, coaxingly, "don't say that. I
have heard every word you uttered, in. fact, I have
written some of them in the ledger."
"It's nothing but books and accounts," she con¬
tinued, " whenever I want to talk with you. I wish
all the books and all the accounts were at the bottom
of the sea."
Mrs. Maxwell, being naturally indolent and ac¬
customed to being petted, was like the average
Southern lady. She did not know what it was
to help herself. A servant was always at her com¬
mand, and work of any sort was absolutely abhorred
by her. She had been greatly worried, since Purcey's
illness, by the other servants, who were either too stu¬
pid to understand her ways, or too impudent for her;


210
BOND AND FREE.
your service now, and await patiently your com¬
mands."
Mrs. Maxwell changed her position, so as to bring
herself directly facing her husband. "Jonathan,
dear," she began, "I cannot get along without Pur-
cey. I have so much trouble and worry with these
other stupid servants, and Archie, dear little fellow,
is constantly complaining. Em left him the other
night, and the child says something came into the
room and frightened him nearly to death. Of course,
that was only imagination, but to think of the an¬
noyance by having to listen to the child's nonsense.
Besides, it is wrong to so indulge that girl in this
way—the very idea of a nigger acting like a lady! "
Jonathan laughed at his wife's petulance, replying:
" Pet, you shall not be annoyed any longer, you
shall have your maid. But, to tell the truth, I had
intended to hire her out since her husband has gone.
I am afraid she will grow devilish."
■'Afraid! " exclaimed Mrs. Maxwell, affecting indig-
' O O
nation. "Don't you own her? Can't you cut the
devil out of her? I am not afraid of her; I want
her to attend me, and she shall do it. Send for her
at once. I would not be surprised if she has not
grown lazy; for you know what a little indulgence
does for these creatures."
"Elva informed me this morning that she would
be able to attend her duties to-morrow, and, perhaps,
we had belter wait. Nevertheless, if you insist, why,
I shall send for her," said Jonathan, rising and walk-


a mother's sacrifice.
211
ing toward the bell, which was in easy reach of Mrs.
Maxwell. For her to tap it, though, would require
too much exertion.
" I do insist," she said, lying back upon the cushions
of the soft chair; " I want her at once, and will not
accept of any of Blva's excuses. I don't believe a
word she says, as she only tells us of her relapses to
shield her in her indolence. If she is able to attend
to her duties to-morrow, she is able now."
Jonathan had already rung the bell and returned
to his seat. He was not pleased with the idea of hav¬
ing Purcey about again, but being an indulgent hus¬
band, he yielded to his wife's desires. Had he known
how close Elva was when he laid his hand upon the
bell, he could have saved himself the trouble, for
when he rang, she was right at the door, having
been standing there during the entire conversation
between her mistress and master.
We cannot commend Elva for being an eaves¬
dropper, neither can we condemn her, when we con¬
sider the character of the teachings she received.
Whatever there was despicable in the nature of a
slave could be attributed to the master. The first
instinct was to conceal everything from the white
folks. Candor was crushed out, honesty beaten out,
and truth strangled. In view of this, Elva cannot
be judged too harshly. She had overheard the con¬
versation between her mistress and master, and she
knew that, when she would enter that room, the
truth must be told. Summoning all of her courage;


212
BOND AND FREE.
and controlling herself as best she could, she gently
pushed open the door and entered. Her head was
erect and her step unfaltering, as she advanced to the
center of the room, making her accustomed obeisance.
The rich damask curtains permitted a soft ray of
sunlight to creep between their folds, and it fell with
warm radiance upon the velvet carpet. Mrs. Max¬
well had changed her position, so that she saw the
form of Elva through the large mirror which stood
at one end of the room. She turned her head care¬
lessly, saying:
" Elva, I want you to send Purcey to me at once."
The woman hung her head and her eyes sought
the floor, but she said not a word in response to her
mistress's command, nor did she move. Mrs. Max¬
well's voice rose to a higher key as she repeated her
command. The woman still remained motionless.
Turning in her chair, the mistress looked upon Elva
and encountered those large black eyes resting fully
upon her; their burning intensity caused her to
shrink. But it was woman to woman, and she fairly
screamed:
" Elva, what do you mean ? Did }rou not hear me?
How dare you stand there and not obey ? Leave the
room, and do as I bid you."
A sardonic smile played around Elva's mouth.
Raising her eyes and looking full at her mistress,
she said slowly:
"Miss Jinnie, don't I always 'bey you? Ain't I
yours for you to do what you please with ? Yes; dat's


a mother's sacrifice.
213
true," she said, as though talking to herself. "But
when you tell me bring Puree here, I can't. No;
can't flo dat, Miss Jinnie."
"Woman, are you crazy!" exclaimed Mrs. Max¬
well, rising. " Leave the room at once, and send
Purcey here. If she can't walk, let her crawl. I
won't indulge niggers in their laziness any longer."
Elva walked toward the door, her first intention
being to go, and say no more, but at once make her
escape. But she quickly reconsidered, for she must
stand between her child and her master. If she at¬
tempted escape, she would only be captured and pun¬
ished. If she remained and faced the punishment
consequent upon her deception, she would at least
feel that she was but the sacrifice for her child's
liberty. Death had no terrors for her; she had ac¬
complished all she could, and was ready now to suf¬
fer. Upon reaching the door, she turned to her mis¬
tress, and said:
" Miss Jinnie, I'm not crazy, but Purcey is beyond
your reach, praise God ! She is gone; and I hope, by
this time, she's safe on de other side."
Jonathan, who had been busily engaged writing
letters, had not paid much attention to what had trans¬
pired between his wife and Elva, but now that his
attention was attracted by the excited manner of his
wife, he arose from his seat in time to catch Elva's
last remark.
"What is that you say?" he demanded, as he ap¬
proached the woman. "Where has she gone? You


a mother's sacrifice.
215
ing upon this suggestion, be instructed Lewis, the
overseer, to punish Elva in whatever manner he saw
fit, in order to make her divulge what she knew.
The commission could not have been delegated to
one more faithful and willing. It was seldom that
any of the house-servants were handed over to be
castigated by him, and for the many years tie had
been upon the Maxwell place, he had never had the
opportunity of punishing Elva or any of her chil¬
dren, and when he assured Jonathan that he would
bring her about, he meant to do it, or kill her in the
attempt.
Jonathan was chagrined and greatly put out at the
idea of being so cleverly outwitted by Elva. That
she must be sold was a settled thing, but something
must be learned from her as to the length of time
Purcey had been gone. Pursuit would be foolish¬
ness until this could be ascertained. All the negroes
about the place were closely questioned, but not one
knew of her disappearance, thus forcing him to the
conclusion that Elva alone could furnish the desired
information.
One of the most important things that slaves were
impressed with was that they were subordinate to
the will of the master, and any infraction of that will
would be visited with terrible consequences. They
were taught that the white man was supposed to do
their thinking; his word was law, and his will theira
An example must be made of Elva in order that the
other slaves would profit by it Jonathan would


A MOTHER'S SACRIFICE.
217
other rope, and summoning one of the other men to
assist him, raised the prostrate form of the woman
and lashed it to an upright post. He then bared her
back, and with the end of a heavy leather trace, beat
her until his arm became so tired that he could not raise
it. Dissolving a quantity of salt in water, he dashed
it upon her now lacerated and bleeding back. After
releasing her, she sank to the floor, an almost lifeless
mass of humanity.
There she was left to "wallow in her own blood, and
to die the death of a dog. Lewis recognized now
that he had gone too far. But what had he to fear?
The law would not prosecute him, even in event of
her death. He had but to declare that she had raised
her hand against him, and he would be vindicated ;
for it was death by the law for a negro to raise his
hand against a white man. The punishment inflicted
by Lewis upon Elva was cruel, so much so that we
wonder that a human heart could be so brutal as to
instigate such suffering. But there was no cruelty,
no brutality, that the human mind could conceive,
that the negroes were not made to suffer. The very-
devil himself must have been the orginator of some
of their cruelties.
Elva was unable to move from the spot where she
sank down, and as she lay there writhing and groan¬
ing from pain, not a person dared go near her. Elo
had been working in the field all day, and did not
learn that her mother had been beaten until her re¬
turn at night. Nobody ever noticed her, and she


218
BOND AND FREE.
only gained the information by hearing others speak
of it. When she finally learned where her mother
was, she determined upon going to her. Favored by
the darkness, she gained an entrance to the carriage-
house, and guided by the groans of her mother, she
groped her way to her. Placing her hands upon the
body, she whispered:
'' Mamma, mamma, is dis you ? "
Elva's only answer was a groan. Elo's eyes soon
became accustomed to the darkness, and when she
discovered the pitiable condition of her mother, un¬
couth, untutored as she was, she broke out in a par¬
oxysm of grief. Leaving her mother, she clambered
into the loft and obtained some straw. She then pro¬
cured bedding and made a rude couch, and after con¬
siderable exertion, at the expense of a great deal of
pain to her mother, she succeeded in getting her body
in a more comfortable position. Having done this,
she went and obtained food and water, and, with her
mother's head upon her lap, insisted upon her partak¬
ing of it. When Elva recognized who it was that
was treating her so kindly, she endeavored to place
her arm around the child's neck, whispering:
" God bless you, honey, Grod bless you !"
The child was overcome with joy upon hearing her
mother's voice, and, regardless of the pain she caused,
she wildly threw her arms about her neck, exclaim¬
ing :
" Oh, mamma, you is all right; isn't you ? "
" Yes, honey," replied the mother. " I'se all right,


220
BOND AND FREE.
something unusual had happened her mother, she set
up such a terrible screaming that, in a short time,
nearly everybody upon the place was alarmed. When
they rushed into the carriage-house, they beheld a
sight that almost froze the marrow in their bones.
The body was removed and laid away with the cere¬
mony which the other slaves were permitted to be¬
stow, and Brother Beldin discussed her virtues to a
weeping and sympathetic audience. The mother-earth
closed over Elva's remains, but no stone or other em¬
blem marks her resting-place; and she lives only in
the memory of those for whom she sacrificed so much;
and in that of Jonathan, who never forgot the last
look she gave him.
Uncle Joshua wore crape upon his battered white
hat for many long days, and Elo, who never became
reconciled to her mother's punishment and death,
grew so vicious that whipping had no effect upon
her, and she was sold to the traders and taken South.


222
BOND AND FREE.
a servant, and a child. The Widow Thorm informed
her that she would accommodate them the best she
could, and invited her in. Purcey and the child fol¬
lowed. They were ushered into a small, but neat,
parlor, where a cheerful fire was burning in an open
lire place. It was still raining, and our travelers
were tired and hungry. The widow busied herself
in making them comfortable, paying all attention to
Sallie, as a matter of course. When she had assisted
her in removing her wraps, she said :
"Now, miss, the servant can take the child and go
into the kitchen, where she will find a comfortable
fire."
"No," said Sallie, " I prefer her to remain here
with me."
The widow raised her eyes in surprise, but said
nothing. When the meal which Sallie had ordered
was prepared, it was announced by a rather diminu¬
tive, hungry-looking servant girl, who ambled into
the parlor and stared first at Sallie, then at Purcey,
finally stating that "missa said de white lady was to
come to supper."
They both, however, followed her into the dining-
room, which was small like the parlor, but equally
as neat. Sallie ]ooked at the table, and saw that pre¬
parations had been made for herself only. She asked
for an additional chair for Purcey, which was placed
at the table. The widow again looked surprised.
While they ate, she carefully scanned the child, con¬
cluding that Purcey was the mother. She was some-


224
BOND AND FREE.
in fact, I much prefer it, as I never like to be sepa¬
rated from my servant."
"Youdon't mean, miss, that you will sleep in the
same room with your servant!" said the widow,
plainly displaying her astonishment.
" That is just what I mean. My health is not good?
and I never sleep without having her in the room
with me."
The widow was a lady who believed that there was
no level upon which black and white could meet.
She had entertained, under her hospitable roof, all
classes of people, but never before had she come in
contact with a white lady who desired her negro ser¬
vant to sleep in the same room with her. It was not
that she was prejudiced, but it was so contrary to all
custom. She was astonished when they ate at the
same table; but now, they were to sleep in the same
room, and, as she had made no other arrangements,
probably in the same bed. She was outdone. Who
could this strange couple be? Purcey was fair and
handsome, but it was evident that she was of negro
descent, for the child clearly betrayed that fact. Sal-
lie was comely, but, to all appearance, a mistress, yet
she did not understand their relations.
Like all women, the widow was curious, but she
said to Sallie:
''Well, miss, I shall arrange the room, and you
can retire whenever }^ou see fit. Of course, if you
have no objection to your servant occupying the same


226
BOND AND FREE.
mind engaged with thoughts of her guest, when the
outer door opened, and the footsteps of a man were
heard in the hallway. The widow did not appear
anyway alarmed, but waited until the man made his
appearance. As he entered the room, she arose, ap¬
proached him ,and relieved him of his hat and cane,
her face wearing a most benign smile, and her green¬
ish eyes twinkling with delight.
The person who had just entered the widow's
domicile in such a familiar manner was Doctor Par¬
loe, the village apothecary and medical adviser, and
the Widow Thorm's legal and medical adviser. He
was a very frequent, as well as a welcome, visitor. It
may have been a late hour for a lone lady to receive
a visitor, but then the doctor could not come until
after business hours, and if there were any impropri¬
ety in the lateness of the hour, the circumstances un¬
der which he called made him feel privileged. Doc¬
tor Parloe was a man who had seen some fifty odd
years. His experience in life had been such as to
make him a very practical man, yet there are things
in the life of some men, although of fifty years' ex¬
perience, that are criticised by the world. But the
world is cynical at any rate, and if Doctor Parloe had
schooled himself to have opinions m which other
men refused to concur, why, he simply pronounced
all those who differed with him as fools. He was not
a misanthropist—that is, in the strict sense—yet he
had little regard for mankind, and no respect for
their opinions when they differed from his. He was


228
Bond and free.
open the conversation, her part being to give quiet
acquiescence. In fact, the doctor assumed the right
to speak before being spoken to, and one of his chief
reasons for visiting the widow so often was because
she was so good a listener. But to-night she was
burning up with curiosity, and she overleaped the
bounds of all precedent, and shocked the doctor so
severely that it took him sometime to recover. The
widow broke out almost as soon as he was seated:
"Doctor Parloe, something very remarkable has
happened in the house. Pray, what do you think ? "
Now, the first remark, notwithstanding the fact
that the widow had committed a breach, was all
right; but when she asked the doctor what he
thought, the arm with which he was conveying the
cup of tea to his lips stopped half way, his eye
opened wide, his lips parted, and he stared at the
woman in such a manner as to forcibly remind her
of what she had done. She was about to apologize,
when he set the cup down and said, in a slow, deliber¬
ate manner:
"I think, I think, Thorm, that you are a fool," and,
raising his cup of tea, he drank it at a draught.
Thorm did not stop for this, but broke in by say¬
ing: " But, doctor, this is really important, and I want
your opinion."
''That," said he, "you shall have, but I hope you
will not forget yourself again. Always remember
the distance between the philosophic and the unphil-
osophic mind; always have a due regard for those


234
BOND AND FREE.
the slip. Oh, if Sledger was only here!" But Sled-
ger was not there, he having returned South with
some slaves whom he had claimed as his own, proving
them by fictitious papers prepared by Jamison, who
was now traveling about, earning a penny anywhere
and any way he could. lie had no thought of ever
seeing Purcey again, and was now greatly surprised.
He did not know where Sallie was, not having
seen her take her departure, but he could find out
something about them by inquiring at the tavern.
Entering the tavern, he sought the landlord and
learned from him.of Sallie's departure and her inten
tion to return in a couple of days, which, of course,
left Purcey alone.
Now, Mr. Jamison was not a brave man, but he
was a shrewd one, and he quickly concluded that if
he could gain possession of Purcey and spirit her
away before Sallie's return, he could make a profit¬
able speculation on his own hook. He decided to
watch her movements and to take advantage of the
first opportunity to kidnap her. He could find ready
hands to assist him in this business, and he lost no
time in securing them.
Purcey knew the man had recognized her, and she
became greatly alarmed; she did not leave her room,
but waited patiently for darkness, intending to start
for the place to which she had been directed, where
she would find assistance in crossing the lake. She
thought of employing the negro boy to escort her;
then she feared compromising him. The directions


286
BOND AND FREE.
over briers and bushes. She had struck the right path,
and she followed it without deviation. The bashes
would catch her skirts, but she tarried not for this, nor
did she stop to look around; for she knew that she was
being pursued, and she mast elude her pursuers. On
she rushed, her heart set upon gaining liberty for her¬
self and child. She did not for a moment stop to
think of husbanding her strength in case of being
overtaken, but kept madly on. Her limbs soon be¬
gan to weaken, her gait slacken, and she heard the
voices of men. Looking around, she beheld two men
approaching her; one of them was Jamison. She saw
now it was useless to fly, so she determined to make
a fight. Liberty was a precious boon, and if she
could not enjoy that, then she preferred death.
Placing her child upon the ground, and standing be¬
tween it and the two men, who were now within a
few yards of her, she raised her eyes to heaven and
exclaimed : " Oh God, Almighty Father, protect me
with Thy strong arm! "
The child clung to her dress, and looked innocently
into her face. She stooped and kissed it, and it smiled.
The smile gave her courage, for she realized that two
lives must be protected, the one even dearer than her
own. From her pocket she drew forth her master's
silver-mounted pistol, and awaited the approach of
the men. Mr. Jamison got within a few feet of her,
when she leveled the weapon at him, and commanded
him to halt, which he did, falling in the rear of his


ACROSS THE LINE.
239
she pressed it to her bosom and covered its brow with
kisses. Then she prayed for her mother and husband.
The one was beyond the reach of her prayers, and the
other was almost, at that moment, plunging into a
deeper slavery than he had ever yet known.
Sallie was found, and when the two women met,
there was a joyful time. Purcey felt under many
obligations to her friend, and was profuse in her
thanks. Together they set about to perfect arrange¬
ments to communicate with Purcey's husband, and,
if possible, secure his freedom. It was found a diffi¬
cult matter to decide what steps to take to obtain
this end, as letters would avail nothing, and a visit
by Sallie to the old home would probably be attended
with great danger. Purcey believed that William
would follow her bv escaping at the first opportunity,
and concluded to trust in Providence and await his
coming. Securing for herself and child a home, she
settled down in the expectation of seeing him soon.
Sallie obtained a profitable situation, and the com¬
panionship between them remained fast and firm.


William's strike for freedom. 243
while in the arms of Morpheus, no matter how fan¬
ciful, that was not generally subject to interpretation
among the slaves. They had no dream-books, but
they had wonderful memories and suggestive imag¬
inations; and every dream, whether induced by an
overloaded stomach or restlessness from a severe
castigation, had its meaning. People who believe in
these unaccountable wanderings of the mind say that
dreams are contrary, but it was not so with William.
He believed the dream he had was true; he believed
his wife and child were either in a free land or were
making an effort to reach one. That the dream was
■ a revelation to him from an unseen power, was con¬
vincing to his untutored and superstitious mind. It
caused him to reflect, and reflection caused him to
act.
Every step he now took bore him farther and far¬
ther away. The hope of keeping the promise made
his wife began to grow more and more faint. • There
was no time to lose, for if he ever expected to escape,
now was his time. He did not know the exact des¬
tination of Lillie, but he knew that they were bound
for the South, and at the first good slave-market
reached, outside the boundaries of Virginia, he was
as liable to be sold as any of the rest. That they
were in the extreme southern portion of his native
State he was aware; he could not, however, correctly
judge the exact time when the line would be crossed,
but felt that it was near. In this conclusion, he was
correct.


William's strike for freedom. 245
traveled several miles at rather a rapid pace, the
horses on a keen jump and the manacled and chained
men dragged along behind the wagon with the same
speed. The horses were finally allowed to proceed
slowly in order that Lillie, who had been left behind,
might overtake them. The sun continued to creep
higher and higher, until the full effulgence of its rays
beat down upon the earth. The hours passed, but
still Lillie did not come.
When it came time to feed, a halt was made, and
while some of the negro men were released to attend
the horses, the drivers regaled themselves from the
well-filled bottle with which they were provided.
Having waited a considerable length of time, they
were now in a quandary what to do, not having re¬
ceived orders before leaving. They concluded that,
as they were enjoying their whisky and the shade of
some friendly trees, they could wait. The wagons
were turned out of the road, a field was taken pos¬
session of, and every preparation made to camp for
the night. One of the drivers approached William
and said:
" Bill, I want you to stand guard to-night and see
that none of these niggers git away; I guess I can
trust you.''
William saw from the man's actions that he had
been imbibing pretty freely, and lie quickly guessed
the reason why he was selected to do guard duty
over his fellow-slaves, for not one of the drivers was


William's strike for freedom. 253
what direction to go. Food and drink were the first
things to be obtained, but where was he to find them?
In a strange country, not familiar with an inch of
the ground, foot-sore and wearied, what should he
do? Crawling upon his hands and knees for some
distance, he heard voices, which appeared to come
from a piece of woods directly in front of him. Ele¬
vating his body, he discerned a dim light shining
through the trees; the strains of music struck his
ear; the merry laugh of a party of night revelers
was heard, and he judged that they were slaves en¬
joying themselves in one of the many cabins in which
the country abounded. Creeping nearer, he could
hear them singing and dancing to the time of the
music; the clapping of hands and shuffling of feet
left no doubt in his mind as to the character of the
people. A song with the following lines was being
loudly sung, while the dancers appeared to be trying
their utmost to break through the floor:
" Hannah, walk out in de flor ;
Wake up, Miss Liza.
Dance it like you did befor;
Wake up. Miss Liza.
u Watch her cut de pigeon-wing;
Wake up, Miss Liza.
All you darkeys shout and sing;
Wake up. Miss Liza.
" Gents to de right and ladies to de left;
Wake up, Miss Liza.
Everybody do thar best;
Wake up, Miss Liza."


William's strike for freedom. 257
before asking liim from where he was, first apparently
satisfying herself as to her conjecture. When she in¬
quired of him, he hardly knew how to answer, for,
to tell the truth, he did not really know where he
was from. Notwithstanding the woman was of his
own race, he feared to let her know that he was a
runaway, so, evading the question, he said:
" I hab lost my way, and am awful hungry. Would
you gib mesomethin' to eat, and tell me whar to find
the turnpike? "
The woman did not press her question, but invited
him into the house. Having seated him at the table,
she gave him a bountiful supply of food, to which he
did ample justice. While he was engaged at eating,
the woman said:
u You'se a runaway, ain't you? "
William pretended not to hear her.
" If you is," she continued, " my husband kin show
you just whar to go to strike de road for Canada."
lie looked up at the woman, and inquired:
Whar's your husband ? "
''Ile'll be here presently," she replied. uJust
make yoself at home, chile, cause I know from vo'
looks you'se tired, and mighty nigh worn out."
The-woman's apparent kindness disarmed him of
all suspicion, and he confidingly told her of his es¬
cape, and the privations he had suffered in reaching
the present point; he also told her of his desire to
reach Canada to find his wife and child, whom, he
believed, had gone before hi in. The woman was at-
17


WILLIAMS STlilKE FOK FREEDOM. 259
you to get to Canada; it's only a few miles from here
to the turnpike, and to-night I'll put you on the
road. You stay here until I return, and then we'll
start. Miama," he said, addressing Lis wife, "give
this poor man a pair of old shoes ; he is almost bare¬
footed."
With this instruction, he left the house before
William could return thanks for his apparent kind¬
ness. The woman procured a pair of shoes, which
were, indeed, acceptable to him, although they fitted
him rather loosely. Having been frequently informed
that there were a great many betrayers of fugitives
among his own race, William did not trust Hawkins
implicitly. Why had he gone away—why did he
want him to await his return ? If the man was in¬
terested in his escape, surely he would not have left
him without giving some reason. Had he gone to
procure assistance to capture him, or had he gone for
a team to drive to the turnpike? Perhaps his wife
could throw some light upon this. The hearty meal
he had eaten gave him renewed vigor, and he felt like
a new man. Knowing that he was now in a free State,
he determined never to return South as a bondman.
The woman was busily engaged preparing the chil¬
dren for bed. He said, addressing her rather abruptly:
'• Whar's yo' husband gone? "
"I don't know, chile, but he'll be back soon."
" Many folks lib 'bout here ? " asked William.
" Not many har in de mountain, but dar's a village


262
BOND AND FREE.
" See liar, my friend, can't we git round this town ?"
" We can," said Hawkins, " but it's too far."
" Oh, neber mind that. I don't car for the distance.
You needn't go ; just tell me. I don't car 'bout goin'
fru that town, sumthin' tells me thar's trouble ahead,
and trouble ain't what I'se on the sarch fur."
"We'll get through all right; don't be afraid.
Come on," and Hawkins started off.
" Hold on thar," said William. '• Stranger, you'se
been mighty accommodatin', but I won't trouble you
fudder. S'pose you return home and let me git
round the town alone."
"Oh, no. That won't .do," said Hawkins, shaking
his head, and beginning to fear that William sus¬
pected him. "You don't think I'd fool you, do
you?"
"Wall, to tell the truf, that's just what I think,"
was the laconic reply.
" You do, hey ? Then I arrest you as a runaway,"
and as Hawkins said this, he attempted to draw his
pistol, but William was too quick for him. Draw¬
ing his quickly, he said :
" No foolin' wid that thing, stranger. Don't draw
it, or this will go off."
Hawkins laughed loudly, and replied:
"Why, you fool, that thing ain't loaded."
They were now standing face to face, and Wil¬
liam began to back away. Hawkins called upon him
to halt, but he only laughed contemptuously.
"Stand, I tell you," said Hawkins. William con-


266
BOND AND FREE.
ing whatever; "but, upon entering into manhood, he
showed no disposition to improve upon the few ad¬
vantages he had. He migrated from place to place,
earning a livelihood at whatever employment he could
find to do, until we find him located in the city of
II , where he had resided some five or eight
vears, long enough to be well known as a ne'er-do-
well, and to gain a reputation for engaging in ques¬
tionable transactions. Coleman had reached a point
when the conscience becomes so hardened as to make
one a fitting tool for the carrying out of the deepest
villainy that man can engage in. Being a dissolute
and reckless person, he fell a ready victim to the de¬
signs of the "nigger-catchers." After having en¬
gaged in the business as a tool for other men, he be¬
came far more dangerous when he took up the dual
part of betrayer and kidnapper.
Many were the poor souls whose freedom was sac¬
rificed by this man. It was an easy matter for him to
obtain the confidence of persons engaged in the Under¬
ground Railroad, and, by this means, instigate the
capture of whole families. He was a man of rather
pleasing address, his complexion a bright mulatto,
hair as black as a raven, slightly inclined to curl.
Ilis mouth was rather large, while his lips were more
like those of the Anglo-Saxon than the African. He
had been made to swallow two of his front teeth by
a fugitive slave, whom he had attacked and unsuc¬
cessfully attempted to capture. This loss of teeth
disfigured his mouth, and, when he smiled, rather


UNITED IN FREEDOM.
275
to peer over Deriy's shoulder into the darkness of
the inner room.
11 Strange, but true," said Derry, not moving an
inch.
" Will he be back soon, do you think?"
" I don't think and I don't know when he will be
back. Look here, Jeff Coleman, what is your busi¬
ness with that man ?" inquired Derry. And he tried
to push him toward the door. "Are you up to some
of your dirty tricks ?"
Coleman did not answer the last remark, but turn
ing to go, he said : " I believe you are lying, Derrv,
but I'll see him, for he promised to meet me, and I
believe he is in this house, too."
''You can believe whatever you please, you con¬
temptible cur. If you call me a liar in my house
I'll break your neck," and as he said this, he as¬
sisted Coleman off the door-step with the toe of his
boot.
Coleman did not say a word, but hastily disap¬
peared. Derry returned to his companions and
asked William if he had made an appointment with
the man. He told them that he had, informing
them of the promised situation, and that he was to
go with Coleman to see a gentleman that night.
uWhy didn't you tell me of that before?" said
Derry. "We shall have trouble now; they will
come here and search the house, and we must leave
at once."
Preparations were hastily made, and the men left


UNITED IN FREEDOM.
279
in slavery. Many were the sleepless nights and
weary hours he spent before finding them.
Purcey had now become pretty well acquainted
with the customs of the people. She had obtained
employment, and herself and child were comfortably
provided for. She sent communications throughout
the Dominion, which were read in the churches of her
people, making inquiries for William and stating
where she could be found. She never lost faith in
her'belief that he would make his escape and come to
her. Aided by this confidence, she redoubled her
efforts to learn of him.
William sat one evening before a fire in a little log
hut, which he had selected as his abode, on the out¬
skirts of a thriving little town. He had been meditat¬
ing for some moments upon the advisability of chang¬
ing his quarters. No place presented any attractions
to him as he traveled here and there in hope of find¬
ing those whom he sought. So short a time did he
remain at a place that it was almost impossible for
him to learn anything of importance. Entering a
town, he would make inquiry for his dear ones, and,
receiving no information, sick at heart, and almost
discouraged, he would proceed to the next town. He
had always been a constant attendant at church, and
he possessed much of that reverence and piety com¬
mon to his race. lie had great confidence in the Gos¬
pel, and much veneration for the ministry. The
next day was Sunday, and he concluded that, per¬
haps, his sad and heavy heart might be lightened by


280
BOND AND FKEE.
hearing a good sermon. The following day he at¬
tended divine services in the little village, and after
the preacher had preached a fervid sermon, during
which there were many cries of " Amen !" and " Halle¬
lujah !" and in which William joined heartily, he made
an announcement from the pulpit which caused Wil¬
liam to leap up from his seat with joy. This was
the notice:
Any person who can give any information regarding Wil¬
liam McCullar, of Co., Ya., owned by Jonathan Max¬
well, will confer a blessing and everlasting favor upon his wife
and child, now residing in H .
Address,
PURCEY MCCULLAK.
To attempt a description of the man's actions when
this was read, would end in simple failure. Leaping
over the seats, he rushed up to the minister, crying;
" Read that again ! Read that agin ! "
When he had finished reading the second time,
William rushed upon him, clasped his arms about
him, shouting and crying out:
"That's me! that's my wife! Glory! Glory be to
the Lord!"
It was not many hours before he had his wife and
child clasped within his embrace, and without attempt¬
ing to describe the heart-touching scene that followed
such a reunion of the long separated pair, let us draw
the curtain upon the happiness of those once Bond
but now Free.
THE END.