London

Mrs. Sarah Jackson

I belonged to a bachelor, who said I might come away with my three children if I chose. I always desired to come to a free State; and I could not bear the idea of my children’s being slaves. He did not think I really would leave, although he said I might. There was some opposition from his relatives,—they told me they thought I was mighty foolish to come away from a good master. I thought I was n’t foolish, considering I had served all my days, and did not feel safe at night: not knowing whom I might belong to in the morning. It is a great heaviness on a person’s mind to be a slave. It never looked right to see people taken and chained in a gang to be driven off. I never could bear to see my own color all fastened together to go to such a place as down the river. I used to go in the house and shut myself up. I did not know how long before it would be my own fate. I had just enough to pay my way here. I expect to work for a living, and I am trying to get a house. I am better here than I was at home,—I feel lighter,—the dread is gone. I have a sister and brother in slavery in Kentucky. I intend to send my children to school. I have been here about a week.

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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.