They stopped at a first-class hotel in Charleston, where the young planter and his body servant were treated, as the house was wont to treat the chivalry.  They stopped also at a similar hotel in Richmond, and with like results.

They knew that they must pass through Baltimore, but they did not know the obstacles that they would have to surmount in the Monumental City.  They proceeded to the depot in the usual manner, and the servant asked for tickets for his master and self.  Of course the master could have a ticket, but “bonds will have to be entered before you can get a ticket,” said the ticket master.  “It is the rule of this office to require bonds for all negroes applying for tickets to go North, and none but gentlemen of well-known responsibility will be taken,” further explained the ticket master.

The servant replied, that he knew “nothing about that”—­that he was “simply traveling with his young master to take care of him—­he being in a very delicate state of health, so much so, that fears were entertained that he might not be able to hold out to reach Philadelphia, where he was hastening for medical treatment,” and ended his reply by saying, “my master can’t be detained.”  Without further parley, the ticket master very obligingly waived the old “rule,” and furnished the requisite tickets.  The mountain being thus removed, the young planter and his faithful servant were safely in the cars for the city of Brotherly Love.

Scarcely had they arrived on free soil when the rheumatism departed—­the right arm was unslung—­the toothache was gone—­the beardless face was unmuffled—­the deaf heard and spoke—­the blind saw—­and the lame leaped as an hart, and in the presence of a few astonished friends of the slave, the facts of this unparalleled Underground Rail Road feat were fully established by the most unquestionable evidence.

The constant strain and pressure on Ellen’s nerves, however, had tried her severely, so much so, that for days afterwards, she was physically very much prostrated, although joy and gladness beamed from her eyes, which bespoke inexpressible delight within.

Never can the writer forget the impression made by their arrival.  Even now, after a lapse of nearly a quarter of a century, it is easy to picture them in a private room, surrounded by a few friends—­Ellen in her fine suit of black, with her cloak and high-heeled boots, looking, in every respect, like a young gentleman; in an hour after having dropped her male attire, and assumed the habiliments of her sex the feminine only was visible in every line and feature of her structure.

Her husband, William, was thoroughly colored, but was a man of marked natural abilities, of good manners, and full of pluck, and possessed of perceptive faculties very large.