My father was born a slave in the State of Maryland in Cecil County. He was freed at the age of nineteen, upon the death of his master. My mother was born of free parents in Harford County, Maryland. Both came in their youth to Pennsylvania, where they were married. Of that union there were born twelve children, eight boys and four girls. The subject of this sketch was the fifth son of the family. In 1844 my father moved with his family from Lancaster to York County, across the Susquehanna River. I was then between five and six years old. The first political event that I remember was the Presidential campaign of Henry Clay and James K. Polk in 1844. In the fall of that year each party had a pole raising at Peach Bottom, York County, Pennsylvania. Mother took us to see the pole raising and then the people were all shouting for Henry Clay, but soon after that I remember hearing them singing a song:: "Oh poor cooney Clay, The white house was never made for you And home you better stay." Polk was elected, and soon after the inauguration of President Polk in 1845 the great controversy over the Mexican War and Negro slavery arose. The Negro question was the topic of the day, both in and out of Congress and among all classes. This continued until in 1846, when the war broke out between the United States and Mexico, and lasted two years. When it was over the United States had the victory. Then the slaveholders of the South, with the copperheads of the North, tried to force their slaves or their slave influence into every State and territory of the United States. So great became the agitation and excitement that the poor slaves became restless and uneasy over their condition, and they commenced to run away by the thousands from the Southern States. They made for the free States and Canada. This gave rise to what was known as the Underground Railroad. This brings me to consider what I call my boyhood days. Having passed my childhood, I now began to think, feel and consider that I was a human being as well as the white boys who surrounded me, living on farms just as I lived. Therefore I began to believe that I had the same God-given rights that they had, and was not born to be kicked around like a dog any more than they were. About this time I began to attend the so-called public school. I well remember those school days, for they made a lasting impression upon my mind. If God had not had mercy on the poor little Negro who attended the public school of Pennsylvania in those days, I know not what would have become of me; for the poor white trash from the teacher down had no mercy upon him. They were upon him like vultures upon their prey, ready to devour him at any time for any cause.