departure, I visited my wife and children at Mr. Gatewood's. I took
leave of them with the belief that I should return with my master, as
soon as he had seen his hands established on his new plantation. I took
my children in my arms and embraced them; my wife, who was a member of
the Methodist church, implored the blessing of God upon me, during my
absence, and I turned away to follow my master.

Our journey was a long and tedious one, especially to those who were
compelled to walk the whole distance. My master rode in a sulky, and I,
as his body servant, on horseback: When we crossed over the Roanoke, and
were entering upon North Carolina, I remember with what sorrowful
countenances and language the poor slaves looked back for the last time
upon the land of their nativity. It was their last farewell to Old
Virginia. We passed through Georgia, and crossing the Chattahoochee,
entered Alabama. Our way for many days was through a sandy tract of
country, covered with pine woods, with here and there the plantation of
an Indian or a half-breed. After crossing what is called Line Creek, we
found large plantations along the road, at intervals of four or five
miles. The aspect of the whole country was wild and forbidding, save to
the eye of a cotton-planter. The clearings were all new, and the houses
rudely constructed of logs. The cotton fields, were skirted with an
enormous growth of oak, pine, and other wood. Charred stumps stood
thickly in the clearings, with here and there a large tree girdled by
the axe and left to decay. We reached at last the place of our
destination. It was a fine tract of land with a deep rich soil. We
halted on a small knoll, where the tents were pitched, and the wagons
unladen. I spent the night with my master at a neighboring plantation,
which was under the care of an overseer named Flincher.

The next morning my master received a visit from a man named Huckstep,