A SLAVE-GIRL’S FAITH.
A TRUE STORY.
“Chillen, git on de bo’de,
Chillen, git on de bo’de,
Chillen, git on de bo’de, bo’de, bo’de,
Dere’s room for many a mo’,”—
were the words that came in high but not unmusical tones from the depths of the kitchen, where I knew Jule was struggling with the week’s ironing.
After puzzling over them for some time I cried, “What does she mean, auntie?”
Auntie laughed. “Oh, you Yankee! Will you never learn negro talk? Do they never sing about the ‘gospel ship’ in Boston? That is what Jule means.”
“Oh, is that it?” I replied, laughing in my turn. “I couldn’t imagine how she was going to ‘get on a board’ with her two hundred pounds of flesh.
“I’m tired of sewing: I guess I’ll go down and talk to her a little while.”
Jule welcomed me to her snug kitchen, with a smile which disclosed her shining white teeth; and I seated myself by her ironing-table, and begged her to tell me of the days “befo’ de wah.”
“Tell me how you became free,” I said, as she resumed her work. “Were you set free, or did you run away?” hoping secretly that the latter was the case.
Her black eyes sparkled, and she tossed her gayly turbaned head, as she answered—
“’Deed, miss, I just runned away.”
“You did, Jule? How did you do it? Weren’t you frightened?”
“Well, honey, de good Lord just done helped me.”
“The Lord helped you? How?”
“Ah, chile, de Lord just as powerful now as when He showed de chillen of Isr’el de way to de promus land!”
“Of course,” I replied; “but He doesn’t interpose in the affairs of men as He did then. We have no pillars of fire, and no parting of the sea.”
“‘Deed, miss, I don’t know nothin’ ’bout your ’posing, and we didn’t have no pillow of fire; but de Lord done helped me hisself.”
“Well, tell me all about it, please.”
“You see, miss, we lived just outside dis yere city. One night somehow de cullud people hearn tell that Pres’dent Linkum was gwine to set all de niggahs in de District free, and ole mars was gwine to run us all down South to git clar ob de proclamashun. David, de dining-room boy, was a likely fellar; he had been about with young mars, and could read and write; so he heard de talk, and made up his mind to run away to Washington dat very night. Any one who wanted to could go ’long. Well, most of ’em was ready to go, my mammy among ’em. She said I could go too: but we didn’t know how I was to git away; fur, you see, miss, I was nurse to young mars’ chillen, and slept with dem in a room that you couldn’t git out’en ’thout gwine through his and Mis’ Virginny’s room. De do’ that went out into the hall was right at de head of their bed, and creaked mighty loud. I asked mammy what I should do, and she said, ‘Trus’ de Lord.’
“Well, we niggers went to bed same as ever, and de house was shut up. I didn’t go to sleep, but tried to trus’ de Lord. De chillen was sleeping sound, and so was young mars and Mis’ Virginny, when I heard a little tap on de winder, and knew it was de signal. I got on my knees in de bed, and I prayed hard, and I prayed strong. Then I took my shoes in my hand, and crep’ frou de do’ into young mars’ room, and round to de hall-do’, and put my hand on de knob. ’Deed, miss, but my heart was a-beatin’; for, if de do’ should creak, we were lost. ‘Good Lord, don’t let it creak,’ I whispered, and turned de knob. Bress yo’ heart, honey! that do’ opened jest as soft as a white baby’s bref,—that do’ that had always screeched like a nigger when he’s hurt. I stepped into de hall, shet de do’ behind me, went down stairs, an’ out by de smoke-house, an’ dare they all were; but, if de good Lord hadn’t helped me, I shouldn’t have been among ’em. Bress de Lord! Hallelujah!”
“But what did you do after you got to the smoke-house?” I asked.
“Oh, I was de las’ one; so we started right off. It was snowing, and I couldn’t stop to put on my shoes; but I was a stout girl, gwine on fo’teen, and didn’t mind de cold, for I was gwine to be free.”
“Weren’t you pursued?”
“Oh, yes, miss! By and by we heard horses come pounding along. We were nigh de cross-roads where de woods was thick; so we crep’ under de branches of de fir-trees. Pretty soon young mars and de overseer come ’long, and stopped to wonder which road we had taken. They swore and cussed right smart for a while, and then took de aqueduct road to Georgetown. When they had been gone a little while, we crep’ out, and took de other road that led all ’round ’cross de creek to Washington. ’Bout morning we saw de Yankee tents, and at noon we was free, bress de Lord!”
“Well, Jule, I’m much obliged for your story,” I said, rising to go, for auntie was calling me.
“‘Deed, honey, you’s welcome. Always put yo’ trus’ in de Lord, chile, He’ll keep de do’ from creaking.’”
As I went up stairs, she began to sing in a high key and with great fervor,—
“I’ll lub my Jesus till I die,
Hallelujah!
He leaned from out de hebbenly sky,
Hallelujah!”
—Well-Spring.