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| 494 THE UNDEROSOmTD BAIL BO AD. for a long while. Three times he bad made an effort to get out of the prison-house. " Within the last four or five years, times have gone pretty hard with me. My mistress, Mrs. Mary F. Price, had lately put me in charge of her brother, Samuel M. Bailey, a tobacco merchant of Richmond. Both believed in nothing as they did in Slavery; they would sooner see a block man dead than free. They were about second class in society. He and his sister own well on to one hundred head, though within the last few years he has been thinning off the number by sale. I was allowed one dollar a week for my board; one dollar is the usual allowance for slaves in my situation. On Christmas week he allowed me no board money, but made me a present of seventy-five ceuts; my mistress added twenty-five cents, whicl- waa the extent of their liberality. I was well cared for. When the slaves goi. sick he doctored them himself, he was too stingy to employ a physician. If they did not get well as soon as he thought they should, be would order them to their work, aud if they did not go he would beat them. My cousin was badly beat last year in the presence of his wife, and he was right sick. Mr. Bailey was a member of St. James' church, on Fifth atreet, and my mistress was a communicant of the First Baptist church on Broad Street She let on to be very good." " I am one of a family of sixteen; my mother and eleven sisters and brothers are now living; some have been sold to Alabama, and some to Tennessee, the rest are held in Richmond. My mother is now old, but is still in the service of Bailey. He promised to take care of her in her old age, and not compel her to labor, so she is only required to cook and wash for a dossen slaves. This they consider a great favor to the old ' grandmother.' It was only a year ago he cursed her and threatened her with a flogging. I left for nothing else but because I was dissatisfied with Slavery. The threats of my master caused me to reflect on the North and South. I had an idea that I was not to die in Slavery. I believed that God would assist me if I would try. I then made up my mind to put my case in the hands of God, and start for the Underground Rail Road. I bade good-bye to the old tobacco factory on Seventh street, and the First African Baptist church on Broad street {where he belonged), where I had so often heard the minister preach 'servants obey your roasters;' also to the slave pens, chain-gangs, and a cruel master and mistress, all of which I hoped to leave forever. But to bid good-bye to my old mother in chains, was no easy job, and if my desire for freedom had not been as strong as my desire for life itself, I could never have stood it; but I felt that I could do her no good ; could not help her if I staid. As I was often threatened by my master, with the auction-block, I felt I must give up all and escape for my life." Such was substantially the story of Cornelias Henry Johnson. He talked for an hour as one inspired, and as none bat fugitive slaves could talk. |