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Running a Thousand Miles for Freedom

W >> William and Ellen Craft >> Running a Thousand Miles for Freedom




On going into a hotel at St. John's, we met the
butler in the hall, to whom I said, "We wish to
stop here to-night." He turned round, scratching
his head, evidently much put about. But think-
ing that my wife was white, he replied, "We have
plenty of room for the lady, but I don't know about
yourself; we never take in coloured folks." "Oh,
don't trouble about me," I said; "if you have room
for the lady, that will do; so please have the luggage
taken to a bed-room." Which was immediately done,
and my wife went upstairs into the apartment.

After taking a little walk in the town, I returned,
and asked to see the "lady." On being conducted
to the little sitting-room, where she then was, I
entered without knocking, much to the surprise of
the whole house. The "lady" then rang the bell,
and ordered dinner for two. "Dinner for two,
mum!" exclaimed the waiter, as he backed out of
the door. "Yes, for two," said my wife. In a
little while the stout, red-nosed butler, whom we
first met, knocked at the door. I called out, "Come
in." On entering, he rolled his whisky eyes at
me, and then at my wife, and said, in a very solemn
tone, "Did you order dinner for two, mum?"
"Yes, for two," my wife again replied. This
confused the chubby butler more than ever; and,
as the landlord was not in the house, he seemed at
a loss what to do.

When dinner was ready, the maid came in and
said, "Please, mum, the Missis wishes to know
whether you will have dinner up now, or wait till
your friend arrives?" "I will have it up at once,
if you please." "Thank you, mum," continued the
maid, and out she glided.

After a good deal of giggling in the passage, some
one said, "You are in for it, butler, after all; so you
had better make the best of a bad job." But before
dinner was sent up, the landlord returned, and
having heard from the steward of the steamer by
which we came that we were bound for England,
the proprietor's native country, he treated us in the
most respectful manner.

At the above house, the boots (whose name I for-
get) was a fugitive slave, a very intelligent and active
man, about forty-five years of age. Soon after his
marriage, while in slavery, his bride was sold away
from him, and he could never learn where the poor
creature dwelt. So after remaining single for many
years, both before and after his escape, and never ex-
pecting to see again, nor even to hear from, his long-
lost partner, he finally married a woman at St. John's.
But, poor fellow, as he was passing down the street
one day, he met a woman; at the first glance they
nearly recognized each other; they both turned
round and stared, and unconsciously advanced, till
she screamed and flew into his arms. Her first
words were, "Dear, are you married?" On his
answering in the affirmative, she shrank from his
embrace, hung her head, and wept. A person who
witnessed this meeting told me it was most
affecting.

This couple knew nothing of each other's escape
or whereabouts. The woman had escaped a few
years before to the free States, by secreting herself
in the hold of a vessel; but as they tried to get her
back to bondage, she fled to New Brunswick for
that protection which her native country was too
mean to afford.

The man at once took his old wife to see his new
one, who was also a fugitive slave, and as they all
knew the workings of the infamous system of
slavery, the could (as no one else can,) sympathise
with each other's misfortune.

According to the rules of slavery, the man and
his first wife were already divorced, but not morally;
and therefore it was arranged between the three
that he should live only with the lastly married
wife, and allow the other one so much a week, as
long as she requested his assistance.

After staying at St. John's two days, the steamer
arrived, which took us to Windsor, where we found
a coach bound for Halifax. Prejudice against colour
forced me on the top in the rain. On arriving
within about seven miles of the town, the coach
broke down and was upset. I fell upon the big
crotchety driver, whose head stuck in the mud; and
as he "always objected to niggers riding inside
with white folks," I was not particularly sorry to
see him deeper in the mire than myself. All of us
were scratched and bruised more or less. After the
passengers had crawled out as best they could,
we all set off, and paddled through the deep mud
and cold and rain, to Halifax.

On leaving Boston, it was our intention to
reach Halifax at least two or three days before the
steamer from Boston touched there, en route for
Liverpool; but, having been detained so long at
Portland and St. John's, we had the misfortune to
arrive at Halifax at dark, just two hours after the
steamer had gone; consequently we had to wait
there a fortnight, for the Cambria.

The coach was patched up, and reached Halifax
with the luggage, soon after the passengers arrived.
The only respectable hotel that was then in the
town had suspended business, and was closed; so
we went to the inn, opposite the market, where
the coach stopped: a most miserable, dirty hole
it was.

Knowing that we were still under the influence
of the low Yankee prejudice, I sent my wife in with
the other passengers, to engage a bed for herself and
husband. I stopped outside in the rain till the
coach came up. If I had gone in and asked for a
bed they would have been quite full. But as they
thought my wife was white, she had no difficulty in
securing apartments, into which the luggage was
afterwards carried. The landlady, observing that I
took an interest in the baggage, became some-
what uneasy, and went into my wife's room, and said
to her, "Do you know the dark man downstairs?"
"Yes, he is my husband." "Oh! I mean the
black man--the NIGGER?" "I quite understand
you; he is my husband." "My God!" exclaimed
the woman as she flounced out and banged to the
door. On going upstairs, I heard what had taken
place: but, as we were there, and did not mean
to leave that night, we did not disturb ourselves.
On our ordering tea, the landlady sent word back
to say that we must take it in the kitchen, or in our
bed-room, as she had no other room for "niggers."
We replied that we were not particular, and that
they could sent it up to our room,--which they did.

After the pro-slavery persons who were staying
there heard that we were in, the whole house
became agitated, and all sorts of oaths and fearful
threats were heaped upon the "d----d niggers, for
coming among white folks." Some of them said
they would not stop there a minute if there was
another house to go to.

The mistress came up the next morning to know
how long we wished to stop. We said a fortnight.
"Oh! dear me, it is impossible for us to accom-
modate you, and I think you had better go: you
must understand, I have no prejudice myself; I
think a good deal of the coloured people, and have
always been their friend; but if you stop here we
shall lose all our customers, which we can't do no-
how." We said we were glad to hear that she had
"no prejudice," and was such a staunch friend to
the coloured people. We also informed her that
we would be sorry for her "customers" to leave
on our account; and as it was not our intention to
interfere with anyone, it was foolish for them to be
frightened away. However, if she would get us a
comfortable place, we would be glad to leave. The
landlady said she would go out and try. After
spending the whole morning in canvassing the
town, she came to our room and said, "I have been
from one end of the place to the other, but every-
body is full." Having a little foretaste of the
vulgar prejudice of the town, we did not wonder at
this result. However, the landlady gave me the
address of some respectable coloured families, whom
she thought, "under the circumstances," might be
induced to take us. And, as we were not at all
comfortable--being compelled to sit, eat and sleep,
in the same small room--we were quite willing to
change our quarters.

I called upon the Rev. Mr. Cannady, a truly good-
hearted Christian man, who received us at a word;
and both he and his kind lady treated us hand-
somely, and for a nominal charge.

My wife and myself were both unwell when we
left Boston, and, having taken fresh cold on the
journey to Halifax, we were laid up there under
the doctor's care, nearly the whole fortnight. I
had much worry about getting tickets, for they
baffled us shamefully at the Cunard office. They at
first said that they did not book till the steamer
came; which was not the fact. When I called
again, they said they knew the steamer would
come full from Boston, and therefore we had "bet-
ter try to get to Liverpool by other means."
Other mean Yankee excuses were made; and it
was not till an influential gentleman, to whom
Mr. Francis Jackson, of Boston, kindly gave us
a letter, went and rebuked them, that we were able
to secure our tickets. So when we went on board
my wife was very poorly, and was also so ill on the
voyage that I did not believe she could live to see
Liverpool.

However, I am thankful to say she arrived;
and, after laying up at Liverpool very ill for two or
three weeks, gradually recovered.

It was not until we stepped upon the shore at
Liverpool that we were free from every slavish
fear.

We raised our thankful hearts to Heaven, and
could have knelt down, like the Neapolitan exiles,
and kissed the soil; for we felt that from slavery


"Heaven sure had kept this spot of earth uncurs'd,
To show how all lthings were created first."


In a few days after we landed, the Rev. Francis
Bishop and his lady came and invited us to be their
guests; to whose unlimited kindness and watchful
care my wife owes, in a great degree, her restoration
to health.

We enclosed our letter from the Rev. Mr. May
to Mr. Estlin, who at once wrote to invite us to his
house at Bristol. On arriving there, both Mr. and
Miss Estlin received us as cordially as did our first
good Quaker friends in Pennsylvania. It grieves
me much to have to mention that he is no more.
Everyone who knew him can truthfully say--



"Peace to the memory of a man of worth,
A man of letters, and of manners too!
Of manners sweet as Virtue always wears
When gay Good-nature dresses her in smiles."


It was principally through the extreme kindness of
Mr. Estlin, the Right Hon. Lady Noel Byron, Miss
Harriet Martineau, Mrs. Reid, Miss Sturch, and
a few other good friends, that my wife and myself
were able to spend a short time at a school in this
country, to acquire a little of that education which
we were so shamefully deprived of while in the
house of bondage. The school is under the super-
vision of the Misses Lushington, D.C.L. During
our stay at the school we received the greatest atten-
tion from every one; and I am particularly indebted
to Thomas Wilson, Esq., of Bradmore House, Chis-
wick, (who was then the master,) for the deep
interest he took in trying to get me on in my
studies. We shall ever fondly and gratefully cherish
the memory of our endeared and departed friend,
Mr. Estlin. We, as well as the Anti-Slavery cause,
lost a good friend in him. However, if departed
spirits in Heaven are conscious of the wickedness
of this world, and are allowed to speak, he will
never fail to plead in the presence of the angelic
host, and before the great and just Judge, for down-
trodden and outraged humanity.


"Therefore I cannot think thee wholly gone;
The better part of thee is with us still;
Thy soul its hampering clay aside hath thrown,
And only freer wrestles with the ill.


"Thou livest in the life of all good things;
What words thou spak'st for Freedom shall not die;
Thou sleepest not, for now thy Love hath wings
To soar where hence thy hope could hardly fly.


"And often, from that other world, on this
Some gleams from great souls gone before may shine,
To shed on struggling hearts a clearer bliss,
And clothe the Right with lustre more divine.


"Farewell! good man, good angel now! this hand
Soon, like thine own, shall lose its cunning, too;
Soon shall this soul, like thine, bewildered stand,
Then leap to thread the free unfathomed blue."


JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL.





In the preceding pages I have not dwelt upon
the great barbarities which are practised upon the
slaves; because I wish to present the system in its
mildest form, and to show that the "tender mercies
of the wicked are cruel." But I do now, however,
most solemnly declare, that a very large majority
of the American slaves are over-worked, under-fed,
and frequently unmercifully flogged.

I have often seen slaves tortured in every con-
ceivable manner. I have seen him hunted down
and torn by bloodhounds. I have seen them
shamefully beaten, and branded with hot irons. I
have seen them hunted, and even burned alive at
the stake, frequently for offences that would be
applauded if committed by white persons for similar
purposes.

In short, it is well known in England, if not all
over the world, that the Americans, as a people, are
notoriously mean and cruel towards all coloured
persons, whether they are bond or free.



"Oh, tyrant, thou who sleepest
On a volcano, from whose pent-up wrath,
Already some red flashes bursting up,
Beware!"

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