Narratives of Colored Americans

by Unknown

At the death of Dr. Griffith his goods and chattels (including his slaves) were advertised to be sold at public auction. The sale commenced, and Quamino and Sarah became objects of much attention; but a letter was received from Wm. Griffith, the son and executor of the late master, directing that everything should be sold to the highest bidder except the carriage and horse, and that with these Quamino should bring Sarah to Burlington. "Oh, my dear friend," said he in narrating it, "you do not know how I felt."

Wm. Griffith was not only an eminent lawyer but bore a part in originating the New Jersey Abolition Society. For this excellent man, whose "record is on high," Quamino worked to the best of his ability. One day, as he was at work in the garden, he heard his name called, and seeing his master beside him, he modestly said, "Sir!" We will describe what took place in the good old man's words. Says he:

"Would you like to be free?" and I said, "I don't know, sir." He stood in silence a little while, and I went on working the same as before. At last he said, 'I've made up my mind to give you free;' and says I, 'you give me free, master?' Oh, it all came on me so unexpected! And then he up and told me all how he would do: 'When I call you, you must take your wife by the hand and come into my office.' One day he called me to bring my wife. I went in the kitchen, and said, 'Mother, Mr. Griffith says you must come along with me to the office.' She stroked her apron, and we went, and found the office full of gentlemen, and there we stood as if we were just married. After answering some questions they went back to their work, and their certificate of freedom was recorded in the clerk's office in Burlington. They were then hired at ten dollars a month. Quamino was then forty-four years old. When asked by some of his old friends, if he was happier since he received his freedom, he said, "I don't know much about freedom, but I would'nt be a slave again if you'd give me the best farm in the Jarsies."

In the year 1842, when he was eighty years old, his wife died suddenly. As the remains of Sarah were borne from their humble home, he stood at the door, supported by his crutches, the tears streaming down his cheeks. "Farewell," said he, "I shall see her no more, till we meet within the Pearl Gates." Sarah was not inferior to her husband, to whom she was a helper in spiritual and temporal things. He felt this bereavement keenly, his situation without her was forlorn. Living alone in his house, too feeble to dress himself, his son, who was out at service, would put him to bed at night, and come in the morning to dress him. Arrangements were made by several families to furnish him with dinner, each taking a particular day; and this plan was pursued for eight years. His landlord supplied his morning and evening meal, until Quamino's sight entirely failed, when a faithful care-taker was provided for him.

Charles Taber, a Friend and a Minister, from Canada, visited him one morning, and was fervently engaged in prayer. When he rose from his knees Quamino exclaimed, "Now I know that my prayer was heard. Dis morning, after blessing and praising de Master for taking care of me through de night, I asked Him to please to send me something to comfort me through the day, and now He sent you to me, oh, my dear friend!"

Speaking of the evidence of evil around us, he said, "God is His own interpreter and my comforter, and He will make all things plain." Referring to his pains, he said, "The Lord is the physician—He has a balm for every wound. It seems, as I sit here, I have a view over Jordan. We must pass Jordan's swelling flood, and then we'll be in the promised land."

In reference to his blindness, he said, that with his natural sight and comprehension he had never been able to conceive the half of the glory which should be revealed, or to form a conception of the "good things" held in store even for so poor a creature as he felt himself to be. "How long I have to remain in this state," he exclaimed, "the Lord knows. I resign myself in His hands, and to His wisdom. Oh, the Lord moves with me so beautiful! I trust the Lord has enabled me to seek and to find His face and favor."

Being inquired of concerning his health, he replied, "That he could not wish to be better—that he was so composed in mind, so calm and peaceable. Oh, the glorious prospect I have in view. I can't see anything of this world, but there seems to be a hovering around me. If the heart is composed to His will, what can trouble us? Blessed Master, please to give me an insight into Thy will." He spoke of the comfort and strength which is afforded him to hear the Holy Scriptures read.

"Oh," said he, "if I could only find words to express the feelings I have when I am alone—and yet I do not feel that I am alone either. He cares for us and provides for us; but He is all in all, and over all; He leads us by His spirit; He don't compel us, but enables us. Oh, my blessed Saviour, teach me, oh, teach me the measure of my days, that I may turn my thoughts more to it. But I trust in the Lord that He will prepare me and keep me to the end."

Wm. J. Allinson called on him one morning. He found the old man, who was 108 years of age, sitting in his chair; he gave his visitor an earnest welcome, and his tongue was eloquent with rejoicing praises of Him who had made him meet for an inheritance with the saints in light. "Glory be to my blessed Master," he cried again and again, clasping his hands like an artless and overjoyed child. On this occasion, and indeed in almost every interview, he devoutly expressed his thankfulness that, although deprived of sight, his reason and memory were spared him; and this was remarkably the case to the last moment of existence.