Buxton

Henry Johnson

I have lived in Canada four years—in Buxton one year. I came originally from Pennsylvania.

The situation and circumstances of the colored people in Canada are better than in the United States. I have a large family—ten persons—and know. I have bought, paid for, and have a deed of one hundred acres of land. The people here are very prosperous—they came into the woods without means, depending on their own hands; they never begged a meal here,—nor have any goods nor old clothing been distributed. If any were sent, I should want it sent back. In other places, where money and clothes have been given, the tendency is to make men lazy,—that I know, for I saw the bad effects in Amherstburg. I would n’t receive any of their help: I did n’t want it: I felt ‘t would do more injury than good.

We look upon the steam saw and grist-mill, just finished, as of great benefit to us here.

I left the States for Canada, for rights, freedom, liberty. I came to Buxton to educate my children. I lived twenty-three years in Massillon, Ohio, and was doing well at draying and carting—wanted for nothing—had money when I wanted it, and provisions plenty. But my children were thrust out of the schools, as were all the colored children—one must know how I would feel about it. My daughter was doing well—advancing rapidly. She began to climb up into the higher classes, among the ladies, and the noblemen of the town thought it would n’t do. The teacher liked her, but she was thrust out. The teacher called about it, but I could not send her there again: had they altered the law, I would have been too spunky to send her again. We were careful to keep her cleanly, and to dress her nicely and well. Her mother took a great deal of pains with her, because she was going to a ladies’ school. I went to see the trustees: they told me the vote was passed—nothing was the matter only she was black. The white children of her class wished her to remain, and voted in the school against the law,—the teacher told me so—but I said I could not send her on account of the law.

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This work (The Refugee: or the Narratives of Fugitive Slaves in Canada by Benjamin Drew) is free of known copyright restrictions.