The Narrow Escape

After we returned to New York, I took the earliest opportunity to go and see Ellen. I asked to have her called down stairs; for I supposed Mrs. Hobbs’s southern brother might still be there, and I was desirous to avoid seeing him, if possible. But Mrs. Hobbs came to the kitchen, and insisted on my going up stairs. “My brother wants to see you,” said she, “and he is sorry you seem to shun him. He knows you are living in New York. He told me to say to you that he owes thanks to good old aunt Martha for too many little acts of kindness for him to be base enough to betray her grandchild.”

After we returned to New York, I went to see Ellen as soon as I could. I asked to have her called downstairs. I thought Mrs. Hobbs’s southern brother might still be there, and I wanted to avoid seeing him if possible. But Mrs. Hobbs came to the kitchen and insisted that I go upstairs. “My brother wants to see you,” she said, “and he is sorry that you seem to avoid him. He knows you are living in New York. He told me to say that good old aunt Martha has done too many small kindnesses for him. He could never be so dishonorable as to betray her grandchild.”

This Mr. Thorne had become poor and reckless long before he left the south, and such persons had much rather go to one of the faithful old slaves to borrow a dollar, or get a good dinner, than to go to one whom they consider an equal. It was such acts of kindness as these for which he professed to feel grateful to my grandmother. I wished he had kept at a distance, but as he was here, and knew where I was, I concluded there was nothing to be gained by trying to avoid him; on the contrary, it might be the means of exciting his ill will. I followed his sister up stairs. He met me in a very friendly manner, congratulated me on my escape from slavery, and hoped I had a good place, where I felt happy.

Mr. Thorne had become poor and reckless long before he left the South. People like him would much rather borrow a dollar or get a good dinner from a faithful old slave than from someone they considered an equal. He claimed to be grateful to my grandmother for such acts of kindness. I wished he had stayed away. But he was here and knew where I was, so I decided there was nothing to gain by avoiding him. On the contrary, avoiding him might make him hostile toward me. I followed his sister upstairs. He greeted me warmly and congratulated me on my escape from slavery. He said he hoped I had a good place where I was happy.

I continued to visit Ellen as often as I could. She, good thoughtful child, never forgot my hazardous situation, but always kept a vigilant lookout for my safety. She never made any complaint about her own inconveniences and troubles; but a mother’s observing eye easily perceived that she was not happy. On the occasion of one of my visits I found her unusually serious. When I asked her what was the matter, she said nothing was the matter. But I insisted upon knowing what made her look so very grave. Finally, I ascertained that she felt troubled about the dissipation that was continually going on in the house. She was sent to the store very often for rum and brandy, and she felt ashamed to ask for it so often; and Mr. Hobbs and Mr. Thorne drank a great deal, and their hands trembled so that they had to call her to pour out the liquor for them. “But for all that,” said she, “Mr. Hobbs is good to me, and I can’t help liking him. I feel sorry for him.” I tried to comfort her, by telling her that I had laid up a hundred dollars, and that before long I hoped to be able to give her and Benjamin a home, and send them to school. She was always desirous not to add to my troubles more than she could help, and I did not discover till years afterwards that Mr. Thorne’s intemperance was not the only annoyance she suffered from him. Though he professed too much gratitude to my grandmother to injure any of her descendants, he had poured vile language into the ears of her innocent great-grandchild.

I continued to visit Ellen as often as I could. The good, thoughtful child never forgot the danger I was in. She was always on the lookout for my safety. She never complained about her own troubles or discomforts. But a mother’s watchful eye could easily see that she was unhappy. On one visit, I found her unusually serious. When I asked what was wrong, she said nothing was wrong. But I insisted on knowing why she looked so grave. Finally, I learned that she was troubled by the constant drinking and disorder in the house. She was sent to the store for rum and brandy very often. She felt ashamed to ask for the liquor so often. Mr. Hobbs and Mr. Thorne drank a great deal. Their hands trembled so much that they had to call her to pour their drinks. “But even so,” she said, “Mr. Hobbs is good to me, and I can’t help liking him. I feel sorry for him.” I tried to comfort her. I told her that I had saved a hundred dollars. I hoped that before long I could give her and Benjamin a home and send them to school. She always tried not to add to my troubles any more than she had to. It was not until years later that I learned Mr. Thorne’s drinking was not the only trouble she suffered from him. He claimed to feel too much gratitude toward my grandmother to harm any of her descendants. Yet he had spoken vile words to her innocent great-grandchild.

I usually went to Brooklyn to spend Sunday afternoon. One Sunday, I found Ellen anxiously waiting for me near the house. “O, mother,” said she, “I’ve been waiting for you this long time. I’m afraid Mr. Thorne has written to tell Dr. Flint where you are. Make haste and come in. Mrs. Hobbs will tell you all about it!”

I usually went to Brooklyn to spend Sunday afternoon. One Sunday, I found Ellen waiting anxiously for me near the house. “Oh, mother,” she said, “I’ve been waiting for you for such a long time. I’m afraid Mr. Thorne has written to tell Dr. Flint where you are. Hurry and come in. Mrs. Hobbs will tell you all about it!”

The story was soon told. While the children were playing in the grape-vine arbor, the day before, Mr. Thorne came out with a letter in his hand, which he tore up and scattered about. Ellen was sweeping the yard at the time, and having her mind full of suspicions of him, she picked up the pieces and carried them to the children, saying, “I wonder who Mr. Thorne has been writing to.”

The story was soon told. The day before, the children were playing in the grapevine arbor when Mr. Thorne came out holding a letter. He tore the letter up and scattered the pieces around. Ellen was sweeping the yard at the time. She was full of suspicions about him, so she picked up the pieces and took them to the children. She said, “I wonder who Mr. Thorne has been writing to.”

“I’m sure I don’t know, and don’t care,” replied the oldest of the children; “and I don’t see how it concerns you.”

“I’m sure I don’t know, and I don’t care,” replied the oldest child. “And I don’t see how it concerns you.”

“But it does concern me,” replied Ellen; “for I’m afraid he’s been writing to the south about my mother.”

“But it does concern me,” Ellen replied, “because I’m afraid he’s been writing to the South about my mother.”

They laughed at her, and called her a silly thing, but good-naturedly put the fragments of writing together, in order to read them to her. They were no sooner arranged, than the little girl exclaimed, “I declare, Ellen, I believe you are right.”

They laughed at her and called her silly, but kindly put the scraps of writing together to read them to her. As soon as they had arranged the scraps, the little girl exclaimed, “I do believe you’re right, Ellen.”

The contents of Mr. Thorne’s letter, as nearly as I can remember, were as follows: “I have seen your slave, Linda, and conversed with her. She can be taken very easily, if you manage prudently. There are enough of us here to swear to her identity as your property. I am a patriot, a lover of my country, and I do this as an act of justice to the laws.” He concluded by informing the doctor of the street and number where I lived. The children carried the pieces to Mrs. Hobbs, who immediately went to her brother’s room for an explanation. He was not to be found. The servants said they saw him go out with a letter in his hand, and they supposed he had gone to the post office. The natural inference was, that he had sent to Dr. Flint a copy of those fragments. When he returned, his sister accused him of it, and he did not deny the charge. He went immediately to his room, and the next morning he was missing. He had gone over to New York, before any of the family were astir.

As nearly as I can remember, Mr. Thorne’s letter said: “I have seen your slave, Linda, and spoken with her. She can be captured very easily, if you act carefully. Enough of us here can swear that she is your property. I am a patriot, a lover of my country, and I do this to uphold the laws.” He ended by telling the doctor the street and number where I lived. The children took the pieces to Mrs. Hobbs, who immediately went to her brother’s room for an explanation. He was nowhere to be found. The servants said they had seen him go out with a letter in his hand. They assumed he had gone to the post office. It was natural to conclude that he had sent Dr. Flint a copy of the fragments. When he returned, his sister accused him of doing so, and he did not deny it. He went straight to his room, and the next morning he was gone. He had gone to New York before anyone in the family was awake.

It was evident that I had no time to lose; and I hastened back to the city with a heavy heart. Again I was to be torn from a comfortable home, and all my plans for the welfare of my children were to be frustrated by that demon Slavery! I now regretted that I never told Mrs. Bruce my story. I had not concealed it merely on account of being a fugitive; that would have made her anxious, but it would have excited sympathy in her kind heart. I valued her good opinion, and I was afraid of losing it, if I told her all the particulars of my sad story. But now I felt that it was necessary for her to know how I was situated. I had once left her abruptly, without explaining the reason, and it would not be proper to do it again. I went home resolved to tell her in the morning. But the sadness of my face attracted her attention, and, in answer to her kind inquiries, I poured out my full heart to her, before bed time. She listened with true womanly sympathy, and told me she would do all she could to protect me. How my heart blessed her!

It was clear that I had no time to lose, so I hurried back to the city with a heavy heart. Once again, I was to be torn from a comfortable home. All my plans for my children's welfare were to be ruined by that demon Slavery! I now regretted never having told Mrs. Bruce my story. I had not kept it from her simply because I was a fugitive. That would have made her anxious, but it would also have stirred sympathy in her kind heart. I valued her good opinion and feared losing it if I told her all the details of my sad story. But now I felt she needed to know about my situation. I had once left her suddenly without explaining why, and it would not be right to do so again. I went home determined to tell her in the morning. But she noticed my sad face and kindly asked what was wrong. In response, I poured out my whole heart to her before bedtime. She listened with true womanly sympathy and told me she would do all she could to protect me. How my heart blessed her!

Early the next morning, Judge Vanderpool and Lawyer Hopper were consulted. They said I had better leave the city at once, as the risk would be great if the case came to trial. Mrs. Bruce took me in a carriage to the house of one of her friends, where she assured me I should be safe until my brother could arrive, which would be in a few days. In the interval my thoughts were much occupied with Ellen. She was mine by birth, and she was also mine by Southern law, since my grandmother held the bill of sale that made her so. I did not feel that she was safe unless I had her with me. Mrs. Hobbs, who felt badly about her brother’s treachery, yielded to my entreaties, on condition that she should return in ten days. I avoided making any promise. She came to me clad in very thin garments, all outgrown, and with a school satchel on her arm, containing a few articles. It was late in October, and I knew the child must suffer; and not daring to go out in the streets to purchase any thing, I took off my own flannel skirt and converted it into one for her. Kind Mrs. Bruce came to bid me good by, and when she saw that I had taken off my clothing for my child, the tears came to her eyes. She said, “Wait for me, Linda,” and went out. She soon returned with a nice warm shawl and hood for Ellen. Truly, of such souls as hers are the kingdom of heaven.

Early the next morning, Judge Vanderpool and Lawyer Hopper were consulted. They said I should leave the city at once because the risk would be great if the case went to trial. Mrs. Bruce took me by carriage to a friend’s house. She assured me I would be safe there until my brother arrived in a few days. While I waited, I thought a great deal about Ellen. She was mine by birth, and she was also mine under Southern law. My grandmother held the bill of sale that made her mine. I did not feel Ellen was safe unless I had her with me. Mrs. Hobbs felt bad about her brother’s treachery, so she gave in to my pleas. Her condition was that Ellen return in ten days, but I avoided making any promise. Ellen came to me wearing very thin clothes she had outgrown. She carried a school satchel containing a few things. It was late October, and I knew the child would suffer from the cold. I did not dare go out into the streets to buy anything. So I took off my own flannel skirt and made it into one for her. Kind Mrs. Bruce came to say goodbye. When she saw that I had taken off my clothing for my child, tears came to her eyes. She said, “Wait for me, Linda,” and went out. She soon returned with a nice warm shawl and hood for Ellen. Truly, the kingdom of heaven belongs to souls like hers.

My brother reached New York on Wednesday. Lawyer Hopper advised us to go to Boston by the Stonington route, as there was less Southern travel in that direction. Mrs. Bruce directed her servants to tell all inquirers that I formerly lived there, but had gone from the city.

My brother arrived in New York on Wednesday. Lawyer Hopper advised us to go to Boston by the Stonington route because fewer Southerners traveled that way. Mrs. Bruce told her servants to tell everyone who asked that I had lived there before but had left the city.

We reached the steamboat Rhode Island in safety. That boat employed colored hands, but I knew that colored passengers were not admitted to the cabin. I was very desirous for the seclusion of the cabin, not only on account of exposure to the night air, but also to avoid observation. Lawyer Hopper was waiting on board for us. He spoke to the stewardess, and asked, as a particular favor, that she would treat us well. He said to me, “Go and speak to the captain yourself by and by. Take your little girl with you, and I am sure that he will not let her sleep on deck.” With these kind words and a shake of the hand he departed.

We reached the steamboat Rhode Island safely. The boat employed Black workers, but I knew Black passengers were not allowed in the cabin. I very much wanted the privacy of the cabin, both to avoid the night air and to avoid being seen. Lawyer Hopper was waiting for us on board. He spoke to the stewardess and asked her, as a special favor, to treat us well. He said to me, “Go and speak to the captain yourself later. Take your little girl with you, and I am sure he will not let her sleep on deck.” With these kind words and a handshake, he left.

The boat was soon on her way, bearing me rapidly from the friendly home where I had hoped to find security and rest. My brother had left me to purchase the tickets, thinking that I might have better success than he would. When the stewardess came to me, I paid what she asked, and she gave me three tickets with clipped corners. In the most unsophisticated manner I said, “You have made a mistake; I asked you for cabin tickets. I cannot possibly consent to sleep on deck with my little daughter.” She assured me there was no mistake. She said on some of the routes colored people were allowed to sleep in the cabin, but not on this route, which was much travelled by the wealthy. I asked her to show me to the captain’s office, and she said she would after tea. When the time came, I took Ellen by the hand and went to the captain, politely requesting him to change our tickets, as we should be very uncomfortable on deck. He said it was contrary to their custom, but he would see that we had berths below; he would also try to obtain comfortable seats for us in the cars; of that he was not certain, but he would speak to the conductor about it, when the boat arrived. I thanked him, and returned to the ladies’ cabin. He came afterwards and told me that the conductor of the cars was on board, that he had spoken to him, and he had promised to take care of us. I was very much surprised at receiving so much kindness. I don’t know whether the pleasing face of my little girl had won his heart, or whether the stewardess inferred from Lawyer Hopper’s manner that I was a fugitive, and had pleaded with him in my behalf.

The boat soon set off, carrying me quickly away from the friendly home where I had hoped to find safety and rest. My brother had left me to buy the tickets, thinking I might have better luck than he would. When the stewardess came to me, I paid what she asked. She gave me three tickets with clipped corners. With an air of complete innocence, I said, “You have made a mistake. I asked for cabin tickets. I cannot possibly agree to sleep on deck with my little daughter.” She assured me there was no mistake. She said that on some routes, Black people were allowed to sleep in the cabin, but not on this route, which wealthy people traveled often. I asked her to show me to the captain’s office, and she said she would after tea. When the time came, I took Ellen by the hand and went to the captain. I politely asked him to change our tickets because we would be very uncomfortable on deck. He said that was against their usual practice, but he would see that we had berths below deck. He would also try to get us comfortable seats on the train. He could not be sure of that, but he would speak to the conductor when the boat arrived. I thanked him and returned to the ladies’ cabin. He came later and told me that the train conductor was on board. The captain had spoken to him, and the conductor had promised to take care of us. I was very surprised by so much kindness. I don’t know whether my little girl’s pleasing face had won the captain’s heart. Perhaps the stewardess had guessed from Lawyer Hopper’s manner that I was a fugitive and had pleaded with the captain on my behalf.

When the boat arrived at Stonington, the conductor kept his promise, and showed us to seats in the first car, nearest the engine. He asked us to take seats next the door, but as he passed through, we ventured to move on toward the other end of the car. No incivility was offered us, and we reached Boston in safety.

When the boat arrived at Stonington, the conductor kept his promise. He showed us to seats in the first car, closest to the engine. He asked us to sit near the door, but after he passed through, we dared to move toward the other end of the car. No one was rude to us, and we reached Boston safely.

The day after my arrival was one of the happiest of my life. I felt as if I was beyond the reach of the bloodhounds; and, for the first time during many years, I had both my children together with me. They greatly enjoyed their reunion, and laughed and chatted merrily. I watched them with a swelling heart. Their every motion delighted me.

The day after I arrived was one of the happiest days of my life. I felt as if I was beyond the reach of the bloodhounds. For the first time in many years, both my children were together with me. They were delighted to be together again and laughed and chatted happily. I watched them with a heart full of joy. Their every movement delighted me.

I could not feel safe in New York, and I accepted the offer of a friend, that we should share expenses and keep house together. I represented to Mrs. Hobbs that Ellen must have some schooling, and must remain with me for that purpose. She felt ashamed of being unable to read or spell at her age, so instead of sending her to school with Benny, I instructed her myself till she was fitted to enter an intermediate school. The winter passed pleasantly, while I was busy with my needle, and my children with their books.

I did not feel safe in New York, so I accepted a friend’s offer to share expenses and keep house together. I told Mrs. Hobbs that Ellen needed some schooling and had to stay with me for that purpose. Ellen was ashamed that she could not read or spell at her age. So, instead of sending her to school with Benny, I taught her myself until she was ready for an intermediate school. The winter passed pleasantly. I was busy with my sewing, and my children were busy with their books.