Her Brothers and Sisters

Isabella's father was very tall and straight, when young, which gave him the name of 'Bomefree'-low Dutch for tree-at least, this is SOJOURNER's pronunciation of it-and by this name he usually went. The most familiar appellation of her mother was 'Mau-mau Bett.' She was the mother of some ten or twelve children; though Sojourner is far from knowing the exact number of her brothers and sisters; she being the youngest, save one, and all older than herself having been sold before her remembrance. She was privileged to behold six of them while she remained a slave.

When he was young, Isabella's father was very tall and straight. This gave him the name 'Bomefree', which is Low Dutch for tree, at least as SOJOURNER pronounced it. He usually went by this name. Her mother was most often called 'Mau-mau Bett.' She was the mother of some ten or twelve children, though Sojourner does not know the exact number of her brothers and sisters. She was the second youngest, and all her older siblings had been sold before she could remember them. She had the privilege of seeing six of them while she remained a slave.

Of the two that immediately preceded her in age, a boy of five years, and a girl of three, who were sold when she was an infant, she heard much; and she wishes that all who would fain believe that slave parents have not natural affection for their offspring could have listened as she did, while Bomefree and Mau-mau Bett,-their dark cellar lighted by a blazing pine-knot,-would sit for hours, recalling and recounting every endearing, as well as harrowing circumstance that taxed memory could supply, from the histories of those dear departed ones, of whom they had been robbed, and for whom their hearts still bled. Among the rest, they would relate how the little boy, on the last morning he was with them, arose with the birds, kindled a fire, calling for his Mau-mau to 'come, for all was now ready for her'-little dreaming of the dreadful separation which was so near at hand, but of which his parents had an uncertain, but all the more cruel foreboding. There was snow on the ground, at the time of which we are speaking; and a large old-fashioned sleigh was seen to drive up to the door of the late Col. Ardinburgh. This event was noticed with childish pleasure by the unsuspicious boy; but when he was taken and put into the sleigh, and saw his little sister actually shut and locked into the sleigh box, his eyes were at once opened to their intentions; and, like a frightened deer he sprang from the sleigh, and running into the house, concealed himself under a bed. But this availed him little. He was re-conveyed to the sleigh, and separated for ever from those whom God had constituted his natural guardians and protectors, and who should have found him, in return, a stay and a staff to them in their declining years. But I make no comments on facts like these, knowing that the heart of every slave parent will make its own comments, involuntarily and correctly, as soon as each heart shall make the case its own. Those who are not parents will draw their conclusions from the promptings of humanity and philanthropy:-these, enlightened by reason and revelation, are also unerring.

She heard much about the two children closest to her in age. They were a five-year-old boy and a three-year-old girl, sold when she was an infant. She wishes that all who would like to believe that slave parents lack natural affection for their children could have listened as she did. Bomefree and Mau-mau Bett would sit for hours in their dark cellar, lit by a blazing pine knot. They recalled and retold every loving and heartbreaking detail their strained memories could supply about those dear departed children. Their children had been taken from them, and their hearts still bled for them. Among other things, they told how the little boy rose with the birds on his last morning with them. He lit a fire and called to his Mau-mau to 'come, for all was now ready for her'. He had no idea that a dreadful separation was so near. His parents had an uncertain but all the more cruel fear of what was coming. Snow was on the ground at the time, and a large, old-fashioned sleigh drove up to the door of the late Col. Ardinburgh. The unsuspecting boy was delighted to see it. But then he was put into the sleigh and saw his little sister shut and locked inside the sleigh box. He immediately understood what they intended. Like a frightened deer, he jumped from the sleigh, ran into the house, and hid under a bed. But it did him little good. He was taken back to the sleigh and separated forever from those whom God had made his natural guardians and protectors. In return, he should have been their support and comfort in their declining years. But I make no comments on such facts. I know that every slave parent's heart will respond on its own, involuntarily and correctly, as soon as that parent imagines this happening to their own child. Those who are not parents will draw their conclusions from the promptings of humanity and concern for others. These too are unerring when guided by reason and revelation.