In order to avoid this fatal scrutiny on the part of railroad
officials, I arranged with Isaac Rolls, a Baltimore hackman, to bring
my baggage to the Philadelphia train just on the moment of starting,
and jumped upon the car myself when the train was in motion. Had I gone
into the station and offered to purchase a ticket, I should have been
instantly and carefully examined, and undoubtedly arrested. In choosing
this plan I considered the jostle of the train, and the natural haste
of the conductor, in a train crowded with passengers, and relied upon
my skill and address in playing the sailor, as described in my
protection, to do the rest. One element in my favor was the kind
feeling which prevailed in Baltimore and other sea-ports at the time,
toward “those who go down to the sea in ships.” “Free trade and
sailors’ rights” just then expressed the sentiment of the country. In
my clothing I was rigged out in sailor style. I had on a red shirt and
a tarpaulin hat, and a black cravat tied in sailor fashion carelessly
and loosely about my neck. My knowledge of ships and sailor’s talk came
much to my assistance, for I knew a ship from stem to stern, and from
keelson to cross-trees, and could talk sailor like an “old salt.” I was
well on the way to Havre de Grace before the conductor came into the
negro car to collect tickets and examine the papers of his black
passengers. This was a critical moment in the drama. My whole future
depended upon the decision of this conductor. Agitated though I was
while this ceremony was proceeding, still, externally, at least, I was
apparently calm and self-possessed. He went on with his duty—examining
several colored passengers before reaching me. He was somewhat harsh in
tome and peremptory in manner until he reached me, when, strange
enough, and to my surprise and relief, his whole manner changed. Seeing
that I did not readily produce my free papers, as the other colored
persons in the car had done, he said to me, in friendly contrast with
his bearing toward the others:
“I suppose you have your free papers?”
To which I answered:
“No sir; I never carry my free papers to sea with me.”
“But you have something to show that you are a freeman, haven’t you?”
“Yes, sir,” I answered; “I have a paper with the American Eagle on it,
and that will carry me around the world.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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