Scenes in the Life of Harriet Tubman
took his whipping without a word; but as he drew his clothes up over his
torn and bleeding back, he said, "Dis is de last!" That night he took a
boat and went a long distance to the cabin of Harriet's father, and
said, "Next time Moses comes, let me know." It was only a week or two
after that, that the mysterious woman whom no one could lay their finger
on appeared, and men, women, and children began to disappear from the
plantations. One fine morning Joe was missing, and his brother William,
from another plantation; Peter and Eliza, too, were gone; and these made
part of Harriet's next party, who began their pilgrimage from Maryland
to Canada, or as they expressed it, from "Egypt to de land of Canaan."
Their adventures were enough to fill a volume; they were pursued; they
were hidden in "potato holes," while their pursuers passed within a few
feet of them; they were passed along by friends in various disguises;
they scattered and separated, to be led by guides by a roundabout way,
to a meeting-place again. They were taken in by Sam Green, the man who
was afterwards sent to State Prison for ten years for having a copy of
"Uncle Tom's Cabin" in his house; and so, hunted and hiding and
wandering, they came at last to the long bridge at the entrance of the
city of Wilmington, Delaware. The rewards posted up everywhere had been
at first five hundred dollars for Joe, if taken within the limits of the
United States; then a thousand, and then fifteen hundred dollars, "an'
all expenses clar an' clean, for his body in Easton Jail." Eight hundred
for William, and four hundred for Peter, and twelve thousand for the
woman who enticed them away. The long Wilmington Bridge was guarded by
police officers, and the advertisements were everywhere. The party were
scattered, and taken to the houses of different colored friends, and
word was sent secretly to Thomas Garrett, of Wilmington, of their
condition, and the necessity of their being taken across the bridge.
Thomas Garrett is a Quaker, and a man of a wonderfully large and
generous heart, through whose hands, Harriet tells me, two thousand
self-emancipated slaves passed on their way to freedom. He was always
ready, heart and hand and means, in aiding these poor fugitives, and
rendered most efficient help to Harriet on many of her journeys back and
forth. A letter received a few days since by the writer, from this
noble-hearted philanthropist, will be given presently.
As soon as Thomas Garrett heard of the condition of these poor people,
his plan was formed. He engaged two wagons, filled them with
bricklayers, whom of course he paid well for their share in the
enterprise, and sent them across the bridge. They went as if on a
frolic, singing and shouting. The guards saw them pass, and of course
expected them to re-cross the bridge. After nightfall (and fortunately
it was a dark night) the same wagons went back, but with an addition to
their party. The fugitives were on the bottom of the wagons, the
bricklayers on the seats, still singing and shouting; and so they passed
by the guards, who were entirely unsuspicious of the nature of the load
the wagons contained, or of the amount of property thus escaping their
hands. And so they made their way to New York. When they entered the
anti-slavery office there, Joe was recognized at once by the description
in the advertisement. "Well," said Mr. Oliver Johnson, "I am glad to
see the man whose head is worth fifteen hundred dollars." At this Joe's
heart sank. If the advertisement had got to New York, that place which
it had taken them so many days and nights to reach, he thought he was in
danger still. "And how far is it now to Canada?" he asked. When told how
many miles, for they were to come through New York State, and cross the
Suspension Bridge, he was ready to give up. "From dat time Joe was
silent," said Harriet; "he sang no more, he talked no more; he sat wid
his head on his hand, and nobody could 'muse him or make him take any
interest in anyting." They passed along in safety, and at length found
themselves in the cars, approaching Suspension Bridge. The rest were
very joyous and happy, but Joe sat silent and sad. Their
fellow-passengers all seemed interested in and for them, and listened
with tears, as Harriet and all their party lifted up their voices and
sang:
I'm on my way to Canada,
That cold and dreary land;
The sad effects of slavery,
I can't no longer stand.
I've served my master all my days,
Widout a dime's reward;
And now I'm forced to run away,
To flee the lash abroad.
Farewell, ole master, don't think hard of me,
I'll travel on to Canada, where all the slaves are free.
The hounds are baying on my track,
Ole master comes behind,
Resolved that he will bring me back,
Before I cross de line;
I'm now embarked for yonder shore,
There a man's a man by law;
The iron horse will bear me o'er,
To shake de lion's paw.
Oh, righteous Father, wilt thou not pity me,
And aid me on to Canada where all the slaves are free.
Oh, I heard Queen Victoria say,
That if we would forsake
Our native land of slavery,
And come across the lake;
That she was standin' on de shore,
Wid arms extended wide,
To give us all a peaceful home
Beyond de rolling tide.
Farewell, ole master, etc.
The cars began to cross the bridge. Harriet was very anxious to have her
companions see the Falls. William, Peter, and Eliza came eagerly to look
at the wonderful sight; but Joe sat still, with his head upon his hand.
"Joe, come look at de Falls! Joe, you fool you, come see de Falls! its
your last chance." But Joe sat still and never raised his head. At
length Harriet knew by the rise in the center of the bridge, and the
descent on the other side, that they had crossed "the line." She sprang
across to Joe's seat, shook him with all her might, and shouted, "Joe,
you've shook de lion's paw!" Joe did not know what she meant. "Joe,
you're _free_!" shouted Harriet. Then Joe's head went up, he raised his
hands on high, and his face, streaming with tears, to heaven, and broke
out in loud and thrilling tones:
"Glory to God and Jesus too,
One more soul is safe!
Oh, go and carry de news,
One more soul got safe."
"Joe, come and look at de Falls!" called Harriet.
"Glory to God and Jesus too,
One more soul got safe."
was all the answer. The cars stopped on the other side. Joe's feet were
the first to touch British soil, after those of the conductor.
Loud roared the waters of Niagara, but louder still ascended the anthem
of praise from the overflowing heart of the freeman. And can we doubt
that the strain was taken up by angel voices, and that through the
arches of Heaven echoed and re-echoed the strain:
Glory to God in the Highest,
Glory to God and Jesus too,
One more soul is safe.
"The ladies and gentlemen gathered round him," said Harriet, "till I
couldn't see Joe for the crowd, only I heard 'Glory to God and Jesus
too!' louder than ever." William went after him, and pulled him,
saying, "Joe, stop your noise! you act like a fool!' Then Peter ran in
and jerked him mos' off his feet,--"Joe, stop your hollerin'! Folks'll
think you're crazy!" But Joe gave no heed. The ladies were crying, and
the tears like rain ran down Joe's sable cheeks. A lady reached over her
fine cambric handkerchief to him. Joe wiped his face, and then he spoke.
"Oh! if I'd felt like dis down South, it would hab taken _nine_ men to
take me; only one more journey for me now, and dat is to Hebben!" "Well,
you ole fool you," said Harriet, with whom there seems but one step from
the sublime to the ridiculous, "you might a' looked at the Falls fust,
and den gone to Hebben afterwards." She has seen Joe several times
since, a happy and industrious freeman in Canada.
When asked, as she often is, how it was possible that she was not afraid
to go back, with that tremendous price upon her head, Harriet always
answers, "Why, don't I tell you, Missus, t'wan't _me_, 'twas _de Lord_!
I always _tole_ him, 'I trust to you. I don't know where to go or what
to do, but I expect you to lead me,' an' he always did." At one time she
was going down, watched for everywhere, after there had been a meeting
of slaveholders in the court-house of one of the large cities of
Maryland, and an added reward had been put upon her head, with various
threats of the different cruel devices by which she should be tortured
and put to death; friends gathered round her, imploring her not to go on
directly in the face of danger and death, and this was Harriet's answer
to them:
"Now look yer! John saw the city, didn't he? Yes, John saw the city.
Well, what did he see? He saw twelve gates--three of dose gates was on
de north--three of 'em was on the east--and three of 'em was on de
west--but dere was three of 'em on de _South_ too; an' I reckon if dey
kill me down dere, I'll git into one of dem gates, don't you?"
Whether Harriet's ideas of the geographical bearings of the gates of the
Celestial City, as seen in the Apocalyptic vision, were correct or not,
we cannot doubt that she was right in the deduction her faith drew from
them; and that _somewhere_, whether north, south, east, or west, to our
dim vision, there is a gate to be opened for Harriet, where the welcome
will be given, "Come in thou blessed of my Father."
Many of the stories told me by Harriet, in answer to questions, have
been corroborated by letters, some of which will appear in this book.
Of others, I have not been able to procure confirmation, owing to
ignorance of the address of those conversant with the facts. I find
among her papers, many of which are defaced by being carried about with
her for years, portions of letters addressed to myself, by persons at
the South, and speaking of the valuable assistance Harriet was rendering
our soldiers in the hospital, and our armies in the field. At this time
her manner of life, as related by herself, was this:
"Well, Missus, I'd go to de hospital, I would, early eb'ry mornin'. I'd
get a big chunk of ice, I would, and put it in a basin, and fill it with
water; den I'd take a sponge and begin. Fust man I'd come to, I'd thrash
away de flies, an' dey'd rise, dey would, like bees roun' a hive. Den
I'd begin to bathe der wounds, an' by de time I'd bathed off three or
four, de fire and heat would have melted de ice and made de water warm,
an' it would be as red as clar blood. Den I'd go an' git more ice, I
would, an' by de time I got to de nex' ones, de flies would be roun' de
fust ones black an' thick as eber." In this way she worked, day after
day, till late at night; then she went home to her little cabin, and
made about fifty pies, a great quantity of ginger-bread, and two casks
of root beer. These she would hire some contraband to sell for her
through the camps, and thus she would provide her support for another
day; for this woman never received pay or pension, and never drew for
herself but twenty days' rations during the four years of her labors. At
one time she was called away from Hilton Head, by one of our officers,
to come to Fernandina, where the men were "dying off like sheep," from
dysentery. Harriet had acquired quite a reputation for her skill in
curing this disease, by a medicine which she prepared from roots which
grew near the waters which gave the disease. Here she found thousands of
sick soldiers and contrabands, and immediately gave up her time and