As the happy couple wandered from city to city, in search of pleasure, my sister was constantly turning over in her mind various plans of escape.  Fortune finally favored Nancy, for on their homeward trip they stopped at Niagara Falls for a few days.  In her own words I will describe her escape: 

“In the morning, Mr. and Mrs. Cox went for a drive, telling me that I could have the day to do as I pleased.  The shores of Canada had been tantalizing my longing gaze for some days, and I was bound to reach there long before my mistress returned.  So I locked up Mrs. Cox’s trunk and put the key under the pillow, where I was sure she would find it, and I made a strike for freedom!  A servant in the hotel gave me all necessary information and even assisted me in getting away.  Some kind of a festival was going on, and a large crowd was marching from the rink to the river, headed by a band of music.  In such a motley throng I was unnoticed, but was trembling with fear of being detected.  It seemed an age before the ferry boat arrived, which at last appeared, enveloped in a gigantic wreath of black smoke.  Hastily I embarked, and as the boat stole away into the misty twilight and among crushing fields of ice, though the air was chill and gloomy, I felt the warmth of freedom as I neared the Canada shore.  I landed, without question, and found my mother’s friend with but little difficulty, who assisted me to get work and support myself.  Not long afterwards, I married a prosperous farmer, who provided me with a happy home, where I brought my children into the world without the sin of slavery to strive against.”

On the return of Mrs. Cox to St. Louis she sent for my mother and told her that Nancy had run away.  Mother was very thankful, and in her heart arose a prayer of thanksgiving, but outwardly she pretended to be vexed and angry.  Oh! the impenetrable mask of these poor black creatures! how much of joy, of sorrow, of misery and anguish have they hidden from their tormentors!

I was a small girl at that time, but remember how wildly mother showed her joy at Nancy’s escape when we were alone together.  She would dance, clap her hands, and, waving them above her head, would indulge in one of those weird negro melodies, which so charm and fascinate the listener.

Mrs. Cox commenced housekeeping on a grand and extended scale, having a large acquaintance, she entertained lavishly.  My mother cared for the laundry, and I, who was living with a Mrs. Underhill, from New York, and was having rather good times, was compelled to go live with Mrs. Cox to mind the baby.  My pathway was thorny enough, and though there may be no roses without thorns, I had thorns in plenty with no roses.