The Birth of Freedom
December 2nd,
1805
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| A Slave Family |
Looking back, I have much to say. I
didn’t have a perfect childhood, but it was one that taught me many things. I
learned through the process of my life that what doesn’t kill you makes you
stronger, physically and mentally. Valuable lessons came along after my birth
year, in 1819 or 1820. We slaves never knew our exact birth dates because our
masters never bothered to retain them. My parents, Harriet Greene (or “Old Rit”
as they called her) and Benjamin Ross, gave birth to me under the name of
Araminta Ross in Dorchester County, Maryland. People used to call me “Minta” or
“Minty”, for short. Later on, they called me “Harriet” after my mother. We
lived in what we called “the big house”. That was our Master’s house. My
parents were strong, but the stinging pain of the beatings and the burden of
having to raise 9 children was far too much than they could bear. That was
why I was put in the care of my grandmother Modesty, a retired slave, who cared
for me throughout my early childhood. I had eight siblings, 4 brothers and 4
sisters: Linah, Mariah Ritty, Soph, Robert, Ben, Rachel, Henry, and Moses. I
didn’t understand the severe consequences of being a slave until I was forced
to become one, like my parents and older siblings.
The Beginning of
the End
November 15th, 1826
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| A drawing of a slave getting scorned by a white owner |
I remember on my sixth birthday,
around 1825 I was put to work for a white slave master named Edward Brodas and
his wife, near Bucktown, Dorchester County, Maryland. The unfairness
was constant. The burning of the hot sun scorched our skin, while we were
singing and praying for a better day. We were forced to sing songs while we
worked, because if we stopped, our Master would yell “Make a noise! Make a
noise!” and his whip would hiss like a snake as it cracked. We received food
once a month, and new clothes only once a year. Sunday, the Lord’s Day, was the
only day that we were free from the wrath of the whipping. When I was around
seven, a lady named Ms. Cook stopped by the big house in a wagon. She wanted to
hire one of our Master’s slaves. Since she didn’t have a lot of money, she
could only afford one of the little girls, at around 100 dollars. The next
thing I knew, I was in the wagon, making the trip to another degree of hell, in
other words the next chapter in my miserable life. Her house was smaller than
“the big house”. The lady was a weaver and put me to work helping her. This was
not one of my strong points. Using the spinning wheel was hard. The house was
full of lint and fuzz, and I was constantly sneezing and dropping the yarn. After
leaving Master Brodas’ house the beatings were even worse, but the pain of
being withdrawn from my family was even harder to take. As the couple
realized that I was never going to improve at weaving, they put to me to work
checking the muskrat traps. I got very sick, and my mother requested that I
come home, and since Master Brodas was very fond of my mother, he granted her
request. As soon I was well again, Master Brodas sent me back to Ms. Cook, but
after a while Ms. Cook thought I was so stubborn and stupid that she sent me
back once again. Still seven years old, in 1826 I was taken to Ms. Susan’s
house, whose baby would never stop crying. Of course, it was always a slave’s
job to take care of it. But lucky for me, her sister Emily was kind enough to
help me. Once, after stealing some sugar, I ran away from Ms. Susan’s house.
From then on, I knew my time as a slave was limited. I wasn’t put on this Earth
to take orders. This was the beginning of the end of my life of slavery. It
suddenly dawned on me that life was much too valuable to keep wasting in bondage.
A Sign From God
April 24th 1831
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| A book about Harriet Tubman |
June 6th, 1844
The Stories of my Father and Husband
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| John Tubman |
After Master Brodas died, there was great confusion
among the slaves. Would we be freed? We prayed, but unfortunately, an overseer
assured us that we wouldn’t be. Master had originally left his plantation to
his heir, but being too young, his heir was replaced by his guardian, a certain
Dr. Anthony Thompson. I was worried, thinking about how he would treat me once
he learned that I had defied an overseer. I also wondered if my behavior would influence
other slaves. Already, they’d begun to treat me differently. Even my mother
stopped calling me “Minty” and called me “Harriet”. When I was sick, Dr.
Thompson tried to sell me, but in vain: nobody would buy me. When I was well
and able to work again, my father and I were hired by a builder named John
Stewart. My first jobs there included doing what I hated the most: housework. A
few months later, I asked Mr. Stewart if I, too, could work with the men in the
woods. He agreed, and Mr. Stewart was very pleased with my work. The best part
was being able to work with my father every day, instead of staying in a stuffy
house and cleaning by myself. Under the surveillance of the white masters, we
collected wood and lumber for the house. I cherished every moment with my
father, who taught me many things, such as how to move through the woods
without making a sound. In 1844, when I was about 25 years old, I got married to
a free black man, John Tubman. Such marriages weren’t uncommon on the Eastern shore of Maryland, because half of the black population was already free. I was
not part of that group. Worse, because the status of the mother dictated that
of the children, should I have offspring, they would be slaves, too. John never
truly understood how badly I wanted to be free. Whenever
I brought up the subject of moving up North, he would say things like: “When
it’s dark, how will you know which way is North?” and “When you get there, what
will you eat?” He threatened to tell my Master if I ever tried to escape. At
first, I didn't believe him, but when I saw his face, I soon realized that he
was telling the truth. Shortly after my marriage to John, I
hired a lawyer to investigate my legal history, to whom i paid 5 dollars. I discovered that my mother had
been freed on a technicality upon the death of her former owner. However, my
lawyer advised me that the court probably would not listen to my case. I then
decided to forget the case. But knowing that I should have been born free --
not a slave – led me to contemplate freedom and resent my current situation. It seemed to me as though I would never get free. I
thought I would remain my entire life as a slave. But little did I know that
soon, I would get the opportunity of a lifetime to escape.
My First Escape
September 23rd,
1849.
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| Slaves escaping from slavery |
It started out as an ordinary day. I
was given a paper by a white abolitionist. The paper had two names and gave me
directions to find the first house on my path to freedom. At the first house, I
was put in a wagon and covered with sacks in order to travel to the house
without being discovered. Then, I hitched a ride with an abolitionist couple
that was passing by the area. They took me to Philadelphia. There, I got a job.
I saved my pay to help free slaves. It was there that I met William Still. He
was one of the Underground Railroad’s “station masters.” He told me the details
of the Underground Railroad. It wasn’t an actual railroad; it was an undercover
path that served to bring slaves up north and free them, for the north did not
believe in slavery. I could hardly believe that a mere border was the
difference between freedom and slavery for African-Americans. Why, hundreds of
slaves could be freed with the Underground Railroad! And I was one of them. I
was free! I was finally free! I could do whatever I pleased! Then, I remembered
my family. I wanted them to experience this wonderful freedom, too! That was
when I knew that I had to go back and free them. I would risk my life doing so
if I had to. With the help of the Underground Railroad, I felt almost certain
that I could lead my loved ones—and maybe even other slaves—to freedom.
THE ROAD TO FREEDOM PART 1
August 19th,
1856
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| A Map of the underground railroad |
In 1849, after my first escape I was finally in the
north and free from slavery. However my freedom wasn't enough, I had to help
the others. William told me all about the Underground Railroad. In 1850 I went
back to the South to free my sister and her family, and made several trips back
to help my brother James, who was already planning an escape. We crossed a
river to the home of Thomas Garret, who was one of the most appreciated
Underground “Stationmasters.” Later in the year; I was officially made an Underground Railroad conductor. I knew all of the routes
to free territory, and I had to take an oath of silence to prove my loyalty to
the UGRR. Around this time, the 1850 Fugitive Slave Act was passed. The law
stated that it was illegal to assist a runaway slave, and demanded that if a
runaway slave was spotted, that he or she should be turned in to the
authorities. Safety did not exist. Canada was our only escape. After I settled
in, in Canada I decided to go back, and get John. Once I arrived on the farm down south,
to my great surprise John had already remarried, and did not want to leave, so
I went back up north. Throughout the year, I saved many more slaves and brought
them to freedom.
THE ROAD TO FREEDOM PART 2
December 10th,
1860
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| A wanted sign for runaway slaves |
Between 1852
and 1857 I made 11 trips and saved 300 slaves. I was wanted all throughout
Maryland for my $12000 reward. No matter how hard the rangers tried, they
couldn’t find me because of my slyness and quickness. In that time people
called me Moses. I was a sign of hope. I remember a while ago, a man who was a
runaway panicked and wanted to turn back. I knew the man would be probably
tortured and tell the white owners about the UGRR if I let him go back. I was
much shorter than him, but I knew I couldn’t let him go. Knowing the
consequences I pointed a gun to his head and said “Dead folks tell no tales”. After
that, he soon changed his mind and went with me to freedom. From that moment on
I realized that if you want freedom you have to chase it yourself. In 1860 I
made my last trip. In my 10 years of being a conductor I made 19 trips and
never lost a single runaway slave. Throughout the entire journey, I received
more than I lost. The will to fight back was the greatest gift God has ever
given me.
Auburn, New York
December 29th, 1861
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| A picture of Harriet Tubman's home in Auburn New York |
Somewhere in the mid-1850s I met Seward and his wife
Frances in Auburn, New York. Mrs. Seward provided a home for my favorite niece,
Margaret after I helped her escape from Maryland. In 1857 the Sewards provided
me a home, where I relocated my parents from St. Catherine’s, Minnesota. This
home was later sold to me for a small sum. It became my base of
operations when I was not on the road aiding fugitives from slavery or speaking
in support of the cause. During the spring of 1857, was the time that I set off
on my most daring rescue: to get my father, Benn Ross. I bought a train ticket
and traveled in broad daylight, which was very dangerous because of the dent on
my head. When I reached Caroline
County, I bought a horse and some parts to make a buggy. I then took my parents
to a man named Thomas Garret who arranged our passage to Canada. In 1860 in
Troy, New York, I set my mind to free a fugitive who had been captured and was
being held at the office of the United States Commissioner. The slave, a man
named Charles Nalle, did escape with my help. He later bought his freedom from
his master. My career as a “conductor” was ending by December 1860. I made my
last trip to Maryland bringing seven people to Canada. In the ten years I worked as a
"conductor" on the Railroad, I felt like a
savior. For my safety, my friends took me to Canada. It was the start of
something new.
The Civil War
February 18th,
1870
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| Runaway slaves |
After returning from Canada, in 1861,
I took part in the Civil War as a spy for the Union Army. Any woman who wanted
to volunteer as a nurse or cook was accepted, regardless of their race. I
enlisted in Hilton Head, South Carolina, as a nurse. It was very risky, with
South Carolina being part of the Confederacy, but I took the job anyway. I
treated all of the sick soldiers with water lily and geranium roots, but thanks
to God’s grace I never caught any of their deadly diseases. During the summer
of 1863, I worked with Colonel James Montgomery as a scout. I put together a
group of spies who informed Montgomery about any slaves who wanted to join the
Union. I helped put together the Combahee River Raid. Through this, we harassed
many white slaves owners and forced them to free African-American slave. After
all of our hard work, we were able to gather five hundred slaves. In 1869, I
returned to Auburn, New York. I married Nelson Davis, a former slave who’d
worked for a man by the name of George Charles. I met Nelson in South Carolina during the war.
Even though he was ten years my junior, I found that he was a much better
husband than John could ever be. We remained married for 19 years, until his
death in 1888. I was then left alone, committing myself to God, who’d looked
down upon me with such favor over the past few years. I decided that I had
right to two things: liberty, or death.
The End of my
Journey
March 10th,
1913
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| Harriet Tubman during her final days |
At the beginning of the 20th
century, I became really involved with the African Methodist Episcopal Zion
Church in Auburn. I donated some real estate I owned to this church to make it
into a home for "aged and indigent colored people." The home did not
open for five years, and I was appalled that they ordered residents to pay a
$100 fee. I refused to pay, and I said, “They make a rule that nobody should come
in without they have a hundred dollars. Now I wanted to make a rule that nobody
should come in unless they didn't have no money at all." I was completely
frustrated. I feel that you shouldn’t need to pay for a home where you are
respected as who you are, but I was the guest of honor when we opened the Harriet
Tubman Home for the Aged, in 1908. As I aged, my mind started to fail me more
and more, and at some point in the early 20th century I underwent
brain surgery. I trusted the doctor and hoped it would come out alright. I
couldn’t sleep because of all that buzzing and pounding in my head. The doctor
sawed open my skull and raised it up, and now it feels more comfortable. I had
no fancy pain medicine so I had to bite down on a bullet to stop thinking about
the pain. In 1911 my body was so frail, that I was admitted into my own elderly
home. A New York newspaper described me as “ill and penniless”. In 1913 I got
pneumonia, and just before I passed I said to those around me “I go to prepare
a place for you”.
This one is the best
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