Thomas Johnson

I was raised in Virginia, which I left with my master for Kentucky, at the age of twenty-one. Twenty years after we moved, my master died, and I remained with my mistress taking care of the farm. I used to take a great deal of care of the place, seeing to the farming operations, and have been to Cincinnati to sell produce. The people all considered me trustworthy and honorable, and some of the white people said I could make greater crops than they could.

I had a wife and several children on a neighboring farm. She wished to leave for Canada, with the three youngest children. I gave her money and she got away into Canada safe enough. As soon as she was gone, I was seized and put in jail—her owners said, if they shut up the hen they could soon find the chickens. They asked me in the jail, “if I knew she was going?” I asked them “if they knew the height and size of my wife?” They said they did. “Well,” I told them, “that is my life—and if your wife has done as many pretty things for you, as mine has for me, would n’t you be willing to give her a little money to help her?” In a few days, I was let out. I still continued on the farm attending faithfully to my work—but my mistress’ friends, suspecting that when she died, I would run off to rejoin my wife, persuaded her to sell me. One day, eighteen months after my wife left, I was sent for to the house. I went in, and asked my mistress what was wanting. “Oh, dear!” said she, “I don’t know, Thomas.” But I know what ‘t was for. Said I, “When our Saviour was on earth, they could make out nothing against him, till they got false witnesses,—and there are false witnesses against me.”

I was kept at the house that night, in charge of three men, but was not put into strict confinement. The next morning, one of them produced a pair of handcuffs connected with a long chain, and said, “we must put these on, Thomas.” I said, “You will not put them on to me,—I have done nothing for which I should wear such things as them.” “I’ll tell you the truth, Thomas,” said he, “we are going to send you down the river.”

I was sitting at the grunsel, and as I sat, I carefully slipped off my boots, then jumped up and ran for the woods. They ran after me a short distance. I had thirty-five dollars in my coat pocket, which came in the way, running. I held it up in my hand, and as I did so, turned to look behind me. My mistress’ son was at a fence, and he called out, “Thomas! o-o-h, Tho-o-mas!” pitifully. No one was now following me. I hid in the woods. I could not realize it—I sat down on a stump, and said to myself, “is n’t this a dream?” I could not realize that I had done such a thing as to run away—it seemed so low. I—that had always been trusted, and had served faithfully—to be a runaway at last.

That night, I crossed the river to Cincinnati. From this place I sent a letter to a man in Kentucky, that if he would buy me, I would return and live with him. He showed the letter to my folks, and they wrote me to come back, promising a great many things. My letter was dated Cleveland, but I was in Cincinnati. I thought as I was now away from them, I might as well go on to Canada. I aimed for Toronto, but on my way fell in with a man on board the boat, who knew where my wife and children lived in Malden. I went there and joined them: and since that time, three others of my children have made their escape and are here.

I hired a piece of land in Malden for three years. It was not cleared,—I cleared it: then my lease was up, and I rented a farm fifty dollars a year for five years. When I took it, the fence was down. I fixed it up, and cleared more. Then I told my folks that I would have a piece of land of my own. They thought I could not pay for it. I told them if they put a piece of ice on a log in the sun, they would see the ice melt away,—so, said I, our strength is melting away. I took a piece of fifty acres, six acres cleared, at five dollars an acre, and I have got the clear deed of it. Others have done the same, and are doing it now. I do n’t want anybody to beg for me in the United States.