The Narrative of William W. Brown, a Fugitive Slave eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 63 pages of information about The Narrative of William W. Brown, a Fugitive Slave.

Captain Price purchased me in the month of October, and I remained with him until December, when the family made a voyage to New Orleans, in a boat owned by himself, and named the “Chester.”  I served on board, as one of the stewards.  On arriving at New Orleans, about the middle of the month, the boat took in freight for Cincinnati; and it was decided that the family should go up the river in her, and what was of more interest to me, I was to accompany them.

The long looked for opportunity to make my escape from slavery was near at hand.

Captain Price had some fears as to the propriety of taking me near a free State, or a place where it was likely I could run away, with a prospect of liberty.  He asked me if I had ever been in a free State.  “Oh yes,” said I, “I have been in Ohio; my master carried me into that State once, but I never liked a free State.”

It was soon decided that it would be safe to take me with them, and what made it more safe, Eliza was on the boat with us, and Mrs. Price, to try me, asked if I thought as much as ever of Eliza.  I told her that Eliza was very dear to me indeed, and that nothing but death should part us.  It was the same as if we were married.  This had the desired effect.  The boat left New Orleans, and proceeded up the river.

I had at different times obtained little sums of money, which I had reserved for a “rainy day.”  I procured some cotton cloth, and made me a bag to carry provisions in.  The trials of the past were all lost in hopes for the future.  The love of liberty, that had been burning in my bosom for years, and had been well nigh extinguished, was now resuscitated.  At night, when all around was peaceful, I would walk the decks, meditating upon my happy prospects.

I should have stated, that before leaving St. Louis, I went to an old man named Frank, a slave, owned by a Mr. Sarpee.  This old man was very distinguished (not only among the slave population, but also the whites) as a fortune-teller.  He was about seventy years of age, something over six feet high, and very slender.  Indeed, he was so small around his body that it looked as though it was not strong enough to hold up his head.

Uncle Frank was a very great favorite with the young ladies, who would go to him in great numbers to get their fortunes told.  And it was generally believed that he could really penetrate into the mysteries of futurity.  Whether true or not, he had the name, and that is about half of what one needs in this gullible age.  I found Uncle Frank seated in the chimney corner, about ten o’clock at night.  As soon as I entered, the old man left his seat.  I watched his movement as well as I could by the dim light of the fire.  He soon lit a lamp, and coming up, looked me full in the face, saying, “Well, my son, you have come to get uncle to tell your fortune, have you?” “Yes,” said I. But how the old man should know what I had come for, I could not tell.  However, I paid the fee of twenty-five cents, and he commenced by looking into a gourd, filled with water.  Whether the old man was a prophet, or the son of a prophet, I cannot say; but there is one thing certain, many of his predictions were verified.

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The Narrative of William W. Brown, a Fugitive Slave from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
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