From the Darkness Cometh the Light | Page 3

own words I will
describe her escape:
"In the morning, Mr. and Mrs. Cox went for a drive, telling me that I
could have the day to do as I pleased. The shores of Canada had been
tantalizing my longing gaze for some days, and I was bound to reach
there long before my mistress returned. So I locked up Mrs. Cox's trunk
and put the key under the pillow, where I was sure she would find it,

and I made a strike for freedom! A servant in the hotel gave me all
necessary information and even assisted me in getting away. Some kind
of a festival was going on, and a large crowd was marching from the
rink to the river, headed by a band of music. In such a motley throng I
was unnoticed, but was trembling with fear of being detected. It seemed
an age before the ferry boat arrived, which at last appeared, enveloped
in a gigantic wreath of black smoke. Hastily I embarked, and as the
boat stole away into the misty twilight and among crushing fields of ice,
though the air was chill and gloomy, I felt the warmth of freedom as I
neared the Canada shore. I landed, without question, and found my
mother's friend with but little difficulty, who assisted me to get work
and support myself. Not long afterwards, I married a prosperous farmer,
who provided me with a happy home, where I brought my children into
the world without the sin of slavery to strive against."
On the return of Mrs. Cox to St. Louis she sent for my mother and told
her that Nancy had run away. Mother was very thankful, and in her
heart arose a prayer of thanksgiving, but outwardly she pretended to be
vexed and angry. Oh! the impenetrable mask of these poor black
creatures! how much of joy, of sorrow, of misery and anguish have
they hidden from their tormentors!
I was a small girl at that time, but remember how wildly mother
showed her joy at Nancy's escape when we were alone together. She
would dance, clap her hands, and, waving them above her head, would
indulge in one of those weird negro melodies, which so charm and
fascinate the listener.
Mrs. Cox commenced housekeeping on a grand and extended scale,
having a large acquaintance, she entertained lavishly. My mother cared
for the laundry, and I, who was living with a Mrs. Underhill, from New
York, and was having rather good times, was compelled to go live with
Mrs. Cox to mind the baby. My pathway was thorny enough, and
though there may be no roses without thorns, I had thorns in plenty
with no roses.
I was beginning to plan for freedom, and was forever on the alert for a
chance to escape and join my sister. I was then twelve years old, and

often talked the matter over with mother and canvassed the
probabilities of both of us getting away. No schemes were too wild for
us to consider! Mother was especially restless, because she was a free
woman up to the time of her being kidnapped, so the injustice and
weight of slavery bore more heavily upon her than upon me. She did
not dare to talk it over with anyone for fear that they would sell her
further down the river, so I was her only confidant. Mother was always
planning and getting ready to go, and while the fire was burning
brightly, it but needed a little more provocation to add to the flames.
CHAPTER III.
Mrs. Cox was always very severe and exacting with my mother, and
one occasion, when something did not suit her, she turned on mother
like a fury, and declared, "I am just tired out with the 'white airs' you
put on, and if you don't behave differently, I will make Mr. Cox sell
you down the river at once."
Although mother turned grey with fear, she presented a bold front and
retorted that "she didn't care, she was tired of that place, and didn't like
to live there, nohow." This so infuriated Mr. Cox that he cried, "How
dare a negro say what she liked or what she did not like; and he would
show her what he should do."
So, on the day following, he took my mother to an auction-room on
Main Street and sold her to the highest bidder, for five hundred and
fifty dollars. Oh! God! the pity of it! "In the home of the brave and the
land of the free," in the sight of the stars and stripes--that symbol of
freedom--sold away from her child, to satisfy the anger of a peevish
mistress!
My mother returned to the house to get her few belongings, and
straining me to her