" So my cup of bitterness was full to the brim and overflowing;
yet one consolation was always mine! Our children were born free and
died free! Their childhood and my maternity were never shadowed with a
thought of separation. The grim reaper did not spare them, but they
were as "treasures laid up in heaven." Such a separation one could
accept from the hand of God, with humble submission, "for He calleth
His own!"
Mother always made her home with me until the day of her death; she
had lived to see the joyful time when her race was made free, their
chains struck off, and their right to their own flesh and blood
lawfully acknowledged. Her life, so full of sorrow, was ended, full of
years and surrounded by many friends, both black and white, who
recognized and appreciated her sufferings and sacrifices and rejoiced
that her old age was spent in freedom and plenty. The azure vault of
heaven bends over us all, and the gleaming moonlight brightens the
marble tablet which marks her last resting place, "to fame and fortune
unknown," but in the eyes of Him who judgeth us, hers was a heroism
which outvied the most famous.
* * * * *
I frequently thought of father, and wondered if he were alive or dead;
and at the time of the great exodus of negroes from the South, a few
years ago, a large number arrived in St.
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