came to spend the night with us, according to his usual custom. It was
the last time, and sadness brooded upon his brow. It was the only
opportunity he had to make his escape without suspicion and detection,
as he was immediately to fall into the hands of a new master. He had
never been sold from the place of his birth before, and was determined
never to be sold again if God would verify his promise. My father was
not educated, but was a preacher, and administered the Word of God
according to the dictation and revelation of the spirit. His former
master had allowed him the privilege of holding meetings in the
village within the limits of his pass on the Sundays when he visited
my mother. But on this Saturday evening he arrived and gave us all his
farewell kiss, and hurried away. My mother's people were aware of my
father's intention, but rather than spare my mother, and for fear she
might be detected, they secreted his escape. His master called a
number of times and enquired for him and strongly pressed my mother to
give him an account of my father, but she never gave it. We waited
patiently, hoping to learn if he succeeded in gaining his freedom.
Many anxious weeks and months passed before we could get any tidings
from him, until at length my mother heard that he was in Chicago, a
free man and preaching the Gospel. He made every effort to get his
family, but all in vain. The spirit of slavery so strongly existed
that letters could not reach her; they were all destroyed. My parents
had never learned the rescuing scheme of the underground railroad
which had borne so many thousands to the standard of freedom and
victories. They knew no other resource than to depend upon their own
chance in running away and secreting themselves. If caught they were
in a worse condition than before.