“Cha’ley, I say Cha’ley, a’ my chil’ns gone ’cept you, and Massa’s done gone an’ sol’ you, and I’ll nebber see you ’gin in a’ dis bressed wu’l’, nebber! nebber!”
“Guess not, mudder; ol’ Massa promised you when he put de udders in de coffle to keep me allus.”
“Yes, Cha’ley, dat am so, but dis bery mornin’ I hear ’im tell dat unspec’ble trader he’ll sen’ you to him Monday mornin’ shu’ah, an’ dat he mus’ put yer in jail till he start de drove fur down de riber. May de Lor’ help yer my chil’ when yer ol’ mudder’s ha’t am clean broke.”
“De Lor’ help you, mudder; dis chil’ help hisself, so jus’ gib me my dinnah, mudder, fo’ I mus go to de fiel’ to do Massa’s arran’ to de boss.”
Had the ear of the reader been present in the little back kitchen of a fine plantation residence in Loudoun county, Virginia, in the autumn of 1855, the above conversation might have been heard between a colored woman rather past middle life and her son, an athletic young man of about twenty years of age, as they conversed in low tones. The woman had long been the cook in the family and had lived to see her husband and all her children except Charley, the youngest, sold for the southern market, joined in the coffle like so many beasts and driven away.
To alleviate her agony, she had been promised that Charley should ever remain with her, and resting in this promise she had toiled unrepiningly on, whilst the growing lad had been kept as a kind of boy-of-all chores about the house, going occasionally, as a kind of body servant with his master to Washington, Baltimore and Wheeling, thus being enabled, by close observation, to pick up a little general knowledge.
Thus things had passed until the morning of the day in question, when she accidently overheard the sale of the boy, and with an aching heart communicated the news to him as he came to the kitchen as usual for his dinner. How earnestly her mother’s heart may have prayed that the Lord would open up a way of escape for her darling boy no one can tell, neither does it matter, for no sooner was the fact of the sale communicated to him than the mental resolve of the youth was taken to effect an escape.
The frugal dinner was dispatched in silence, the mission to the field duly executed and a prompt return thereof made, much to the satisfaction of the master.
II.
Night, sable goddess, had spread her curtain over earth, and the valleys amid the Alleghenies were sleeping in quiet, when Charley, crawling from his couch, so stealthily, indeed, as not to disturb the early slumbers of his mother, crept softly to the stable, saddled his master’s best steed, noiselessly led it to the public highway beyond the mansion, and, turning its head toward the realm of freedom, mounted, and giving the noble beast the rein, was soon moving with such velocity as to place fifty miles between him and his master and mother by the time the first gray tinge of morning began to break along the eastern hills. Hiding deep into a wooded ravine he secured the horse for the day, and then betook himself to sleep. At evening he unloosed the beast stripping it of saddle and bridle, and then betook himself to the woods and by-ways, shunning all towns and subsisting on green corn and such fruits as he could find for a period of fifteen days, when, weary and forlorn, he entered Wheeling just before daylight. An utter stranger, and almost perishing with hunger, he knew not what to do, but seeing a light in the bar-room of the City Hotel he resolved to enter, hoping to find some attendant of his own race, to whom he could appeal for food and assistance across the river. Instead of an attaché, the landlord was himself already astir. Though residing on sacred soil and in many respects a typical Virginian, mine host kept only hired servants, and though in no wise disposed to discuss the merits of the peculiar institution pro or con, he was often able to make wise suggestions to the thoughtless or inconsiderate of both sections who might temporarily be his guests.