We left our cottage on Wednesday morning, the
21st of December, 1848, and arrived at Baltimore,
Saturday evening, the 24th (Christmas Eve).
Baltimore was the last slave port of any note at
which we stopped.

On arriving there we felt more anxious than
ever, because we knew not what that last dark
night would bring forth. It is true we were near
the goal, but our poor hearts were still as if tossed
at sea; and, as there was another great and dangerous
bar to pass, we were afraid our liberties would be
wrecked, and, like the ill-fated Royal Charter, go
down for ever just off the place we longed to reach.

They are particularly watchful at Baltimore to
prevent slaves from escaping into Pennsylvania,
which is a free State. After I had seen my master
into one of the best carriages, and was just about
to step into mine, an officer, a full-blooded Yankee
of the lower order, saw me. He came quickly up,
and, tapping me on the shoulder, said in his un-
mistakable native twang, together with no little dis-
play of his authority, "Where are you going, boy?"
"To Philadelphia, sir," I humbly replied. "Well,
what are you going there for?" "I am travelling
with my master, who is in the next carriage, sir."
"Well, I calculate you had better get him out; and
be mighty quick about it, because the train will
soon be starting. It is against my rules to let any