He then had me taken to a blacksmith’s shop, and most wickedly had my limbs bound with heavy irons, and then had my body locked within the cold dungeon walls of the Bedford jail, to be sold to a Southern slave trader.

My heart was filled with grief—­my eyes were filled with tears.  I could see no way of escape.  I could hear no voice of consolation.  Slaveholders were coming to the dungeon window in great numbers to ask me questions.  Some were rejoicing—­some swearing, and others saying that I ought to be hung; while others were in favor of sending both me and my wife to New Orleans.  They supposed that I had informed her all about the facilities for slaves to escape to Canada, and that she would tell other slaves after I was gone; hence we must all be sent off to where we could neither escape ourselves, nor instruct others the way.

In the afternoon of the same day Malinda was permitted to visit the prison wherein I was locked, but was not permitted to enter the door.  When she looked through the dungeon grates and saw my sad situation, which was caused by my repeated adventures to rescue her and my little daughter from the grasp of slavery, it was more than she could bear without bursting in tears.  She plead for admission into the cold dungeon where I was confined, but without success.  With manacled limbs; with wounded spirit; with sympathising tears and with bleeding heart, I intreated Malinda to weep not for me, for it only added to my grief, which was greater than I could bear.

I have often suffered from the sting of the cruel slave driver’s lash on my quivering flesh—­I have suffered from corporeal punishment in its various forms—­I have mingled my sorrows with those that were bereaved by the ungodly soul drivers—­and I also know what it is to shed the sympathetic tear at the grave of a departed friend; but all this is but a mere trifle compared with my sufferings from then to the end of six months subsequent.

The second night while I was in jail, two slaves came to the dungeon grates about the dead hour of night, and called me to the grates to have some conversation about Canada, and the facilities for getting there.  They knew that I had travelled over the road, and they were determined to run away and go where they could be free.  I of course took great pleasure in giving them directions how and where to go, and they started in less than a week from that time and got clear to Canada.  I have seen them both since I came back to the north myself.  They were known by the names of King and Jack.

The third day I was brought out of the prison to be carried off with my little family to the Louisville slave market.  My hands were fastened together with heavy irons, and two men to guard me with loaded rifles, one of whom led the horse upon which I rode.  My wife and child were set upon another nag.  After we were all ready to start my old master thought I was not quite safe enough, and ordered one of the boys to bring him a bed cord from the store.  He then tied my feet together under the horse, declaring that if I flew off this time, I should fly off with the horse.