his heart, might show in his face. He roused no one to take over the watch, but remained on the rain-swept deck the night through, alone. No one ever knew; no one ever guessed the tiger that had risen in the night and died away in his heart at its first encounter with his Christian feelings. The next day the four white men saw only old ’Siah, old Uncle Tom. “Yes, Massa. Right away, Massa.” They never guessed.
A few days after this crisis, the boat reached New Orleans with what remained of the cargo aboard. They had sold the greater part of the load at the stops along the way, and now the three men who had been hired to handle the boat were discharged, as they had contracted for a one-way trip. Now that everything was sold, with the sole exception of the most domestic animal, the young master threw off all disguise and spoke openly of auctioning off Josiah as the only thing left to do before he broke up the boat for lumber, sold that, and took passage on a steamboat back to the Riley plantation.
Several planters and dealers came aboard to look Josiah over. He was sent on some hasty errand to fetch and carry that they might see how fast he could run…. Lift that box; bring me that whip. Quick now, let the gentlemen see your points…. Josiah was talked up as a bright fellow, but, perhaps because his arms were crippled, no one would meet the price that young Riley had been told to ask for him.
He had promised Josiah that he would try to sell him into a good position as a coachman or house servant, but as time went on he made no effort to fulfill his promise. He was getting impatient to be off and any sale would do. Josiah begged for his life. Young Riley sought to avoid him, for while he had been brought up in the ethic of slavery to think of a slave not as a man, but as chattel, mere property which had no rights and was thought of as possessing no feelings, yet his conscience troubled him. Josiah reminded him of things in their common past and sought to touch him by telling him of the plight of those other slaves in Vicksburg. At times he seemed so moved by the plea Josiah made that he was close to tears, yet again, when he felt too closely pressed in his inner conflict, he would curse and strike out at Josiah.
It was the month of June, when the terrible summer climate of New Orleans hung over the bayou and the last hot night seemed interminable to Josiah. He could not sleep, for he had been told that young Riley had booked a passage on the up-river paddle steamer and intended to leave the following evening at six, after having sold Josiah for whatever price he would bring. This then was the end; there was little hope now that he would ever be free or ever see his family again. He was a man of forty and could not long survive work in the fields or in the rice swamps.
The next morning Master Amos said that his stomach was disordered, and by eight o’clock, as the full heat of the day began to strike into the cramped cabin, he was utterly prostrate with a raging fever. Now it was another song: “I’m dying, ’Siah. It’s the river fever. People in the city are dying of it. You are my only friend. Stick to me, ’Sie. Don’t leave me. I’m sorry I was going to sell you. I didn’t mean it. It was just a joke. You must stick by me now. Get on the steamer and get me home. I must go home.”
It was quite a change; Josiah was no longer property, a beast to be bought and sold, but his master’s only friend amidst strangers. Riley was now the suppliant, in fear of death, as he lay writhing in the shade of a sailcloth.
“Take me on the steamer, ’Siah. Take me home. You must sell the boat and get me and the trunk aboard the steamer tonight. All the money is in the trunk. You must stick to me, ’Siah.”
Josiah said it was the answer from God.
They took twelve days to reach the Riley landing, for the water was low, particularly in the Ohio River, and navigation difficult. Before they were many hours away from New Orleans, the fever had subsided, but young Riley had been near death and lay weakly on his bunk, depending on Josiah for every attention. He could neither speak nor move, and his eyes followed the slave in entreaty for a teaspoonful of gruel or something to moisten his throat. Josiah nursed and tended him, saving his life, and when they at last reached the landing, Riley was carried to the Big House by a relay of slaves who took him on a litter over the five miles which separated it from the river’s edge.
There was great surprise among the members of the family when they first saw Josiah, until they learned what his burden was, and then all attention was for the young man. A few first words of gratitude were all he ever received from them. “If I had sold him I would have died,” said young Amos. Only the market value of their slave was of any consideration to them. The act which he had performed served to raise his value in their esteem, and Josiah thought that his master now looked at him with a glance that seemed even more greedy than before. He felt sure that another attempt would be made to sell him before long.
/ 7 /
The ruling force of Josiah Henson’s life was the religion which he had learned, and he was convinced, according to the tenets which he professed, that a slave owed a duty to his master. In a moment of crisis such as had occurred during his trip down the river it was this acceptance of religious belief which had held his hand. He was gifted enough with introspection to be driven to the most intense self-examination in every circumstance of his life, and very often the conflict which was thereby exposed would allow of no solution. From his earliest years he had felt that he must justify himself in his own eyes, as in the case of a chicken which he “stole” from Isaac Riley. Now he needed justification to “steal” himself and his family. He must argue that the Riley brothers had conspired against his rights, as indeed they and the whole system had done, but further than the offense against his natural rights, they had sought to cheat him in the bargain which he had made with them for his liberty. This last infamy was what had decided him to take his wife and children and escape forever.
“If Isaac had only been honest enough to adhere to his bargain, I would adhere to mine and pay him all I had promised,” Henson later wrote. “But his attempt to kidnap me again after having pocketed three-fourths of my market value, in my opinion absolved me from all obligations to pay him any more or to continue in a position which exposed me to his machinations.”
On his trip through Ohio Josiah had heard of the Underground Railway. News of the Underground was whispered about everywhere by this time, but where was it? Where did it run? Could you hear it coming, see it? What was a train? The untutored slaves, and many whites too, were puzzled by the legend and the name. Around many a plantation fire it was pictured by hushed voices as an immense carriage traveling at great speed at night through a dark tunnel, on out of sight, and into freedom.
Lord, lead us out of Egypt’s land. But where is thy train? If only one knew where to catch it, where to find it and go on to blessed freedom. One thought he had seen it rushing through the darkest forest in the night, while another thought that he had heard its lonely wail as it passed in the distance with its cargo of happy but frightened passengers. Yet no one really knew.
The Underground was running few “trains,” and those mostly from the northern slave states at this time. The highly organized “excursions,” the crowded schedules, did not get under way until the late 1840s, and above all after the Fugitive Slave Law of 1850. By that time “passage” cost a great deal of money, and quite extravagant ruses and extraordinary disguises were adopted to spirit slaves away to freedom. Yet, in 1830 there were, if one only knew where to knock and what to say, a few “stations” and “station masters,” even in the South. An “agent,” at the risk of his life, could send a fugitive slave on his way with a bold “conductor” who would take him all the way to the Canadian border.
Josiah had heard of the Underground in Ohio, but he did not know where it ran nor how. He knew only that it went to Canada, sure refuge from pursuit, and now he, too, determined to go there. It was a fearsome journey to undertake, and few men born to slavery would have dared to undertake it even had they suffered the same provocation as Josiah. He knew no “agent,” had met no “shepherd” such as Harriet Tubman, who, in later years, would arrive mysteriously on a plantation and entice slaves away to freedom. His escape was to be entirely of his own doing. He was not even alone; he had his wife and four children to consider.
When he told Charlotte of his plan, she was overwhelmed with terror. She knew little or nothing beyond the warmth of her own hearthstone, and her imagination peopled the world outside the plantation