left her mother and his three children free, with money to go to St. Augustine, where they had relatives.  It was during the Revolutionary War; and they were captured on their passage, carried back, and sold to different purchasers.  Such was the story my grandmother used to tell me; but I do not remember all the particulars.  She was a little girl when she was captured and sold to the keeper of a large hotel.  I have often heard her tell how hard she fared during childhood.  But as she grew older she evinced so much intelligence, and was so faithful, that her master and mistress could not help seeing it was for their interest to take care of such a valuable piece of property.  She became an indispensable personage in the household, officiating in all capacities, from cook and wet nurse to seamstress.  She was much praised for her cooking; and her nice crackers became so famous in the neighborhood that many people were desirous of obtaining them.  In consequence of numerous requests of this kind, she asked permission of her mistress to bake crackers at night, after all the household work was done; and she obtained leave to do it, provided she would clothe herself and her children from the profits.  Upon these terms, after working hard all day for her mistress, she began her midnight bakings, assisted by her two oldest children.  The business proved profitable; and each year she laid by a little, which was saved for a fund to purchase her children.  Her master died, and the property was divided among his heirs.  The widow had her dower in the hotel which she continued to keep open.  My grandmother remained in her service as a slave; but her children were divided among her master’s children.  As she had five, Benjamin, the youngest one, was sold, in order that each heir might have an equal portion of dollars and cents.  There was so little difference in our ages that he seemed more like my brother than my uncle.  He was a bright, handsome lad, nearly white; for he inherited the complexion my grandmother had derived from Anglo-Saxon ancestors.  Though only ten years old, seven hundred and twenty dollars were paid for him.  His sale was a terrible blow to my grandmother, but she was naturally hopeful, and she went to work with renewed energy, trusting in time to be able to purchase some of her children.  She had laid up three hundred dollars, which her mistress one day begged as a loan, promising to pay her soon.  The reader probably knows that no promise or writing given to a slave is legally binding; for, according to Southern laws, a slave, being property, can hold no property.  When my grandmother lent her hard earnings to her mistress, she trusted solely to her honor.  The honor of a slaveholder to a slave!

To this good grandmother I was indebted for many comforts.  My brother Willie and I often received portions of the crackers, cakes, and preserves, she made to sell; and after we ceased to be children we were indebted to her for many more important services.