It was a moment of the highest excitement I ever
experienced. I suppose I felt as one may imagine the unarmed mariner to
feel when he is rescued by a friendly man-of-war from the pursuit of a
pirate. In writing to a dear friend, immediately after my arrival at New
York, I said I felt like one who had escaped a den of hungry lions. This
state of mind, however, very soon subsided; and I was again seized with
a feeling of great insecurity and loneliness. I was yet liable to be
taken back, and subjected to all the tortures of slavery. This in
itself was enough to damp the ardor of my enthusiasm. But the loneliness
overcame me. There I was in the midst of thousands, and yet a perfect
stranger; without home and without friends, in the midst of thousands
of my own brethren--children of a common Father, and yet I dared not to
unfold to any one of them my sad condition. I was afraid to speak to any
one for fear of speaking to the wrong one, and thereby falling into the
hands of money-loving kidnappers, whose business it was to lie in wait
for the panting fugitive, as the ferocious beasts of the forest lie
in wait for their prey. The motto which I adopted when I started from
slavery was this--"Trust no man!" I saw in every white man an enemy, and
in almost every colored man cause for distrust. It was a most painful
situation; and, to understand it, one must needs experience it, or
imagine himself in similar circumstances. Let him be a fugitive slave
in a strange land--a land given up to be the hunting-ground for
slaveholders--whose inhabitants are legalized kidnappers--where he is
every moment subjected to the terrible liability of being seized upon
by his fellowmen, as the hideous crocodile seizes upon his prey!--I say,
let him place himself in my situation--without home or friends--without
money or credit--wanting shelter, and no one to give it--wanting bread,
and no money to buy it,--and at the same time let him feel that he is
pursued by merciless men-hunters, and in total darkness as to what to
do, where to go, or where to stay,--perfectly helpless both as to the
means of defence and means of escape,--in the midst of plenty, yet
suffering the terrible gnawings of hunger,--in the midst of houses, yet
having no home,--among fellow-men, yet feeling as if in the midst
of wild beasts, whose greediness to swallow up the trembling and
half-famished fugitive is only equalled by that with which the monsters
of the deep swallow up the helpless fish upon which they subsist,--I
say, let him be placed in this most trying situation,--the situation in
which I was placed,--then, and not till then, will he fully appreciate
the hardships of, and know how to sympathize with, the toil-worn and
whip-scarred fugitive slave.
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