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- FROM SLAVERY TO FREEDOM
INTERESTING NARRATIVE OF THE LIFE OF CHAS BELL.
MANY THRILLING ESCAPES AND TRIALS TOLD BY HIMSELF
His Many and Varied Experiences Which Follow Were Told by Himself to Miss Helen C. Bartol and Written by Her.
Charles R. Bell, happy, congenial and trustworthy, for forty years known and respected by Bucknell students, during which time he served as a janitor at the Institute, an escaped slave from the south in 1851 and a custodian in the president's home on West St. George street, died on that site at six o'clock, October 26. Mr. Bell was a Bucknellian since 1867 until several years ago, when stricken with paralysis, he was retired upon a pension and has since been kept in comfort by his services.
The following account of Mr. Bell's flight from slavery to freedom was obtained by Miss Helen Bartol as narrated by the genial old gentleman and written by her several years ago.
From Slavery to Freedom.
"I was born a slave. My master was James H. Inship, a West Virginia planter. I had never known what it was to be a slave, for my master was very kind to me and treated me just like a servant. I tended to the fires, acted as waiter and helped about the kitchen, learning good manners and study. I also how to read and write. As I grew older, I became very strong and sturdy. I was sent to labor in the fields and on account of my strength was considered very valuable.
"Just as I was reaching manhood my master died. At the time I was about 17. Everything in the master's estate had to be settled up. I was declared as the best man on the estate. My master was laid back to my master's brother, who had no use for me except to hire me out on account of a broken arm. He made money hiring me out and sending me to his friends. However, at the end of the month I got $1.50. After the death of my father, a Mr. Marner, who had been employed in a shop and accidentally drowned in a canal, left me and my mother alone. This was the hardest trial in my life. I fully realized how my mother looked when I left her. 'Good-bye, mother,' I said to her. 'Good-bye,' she answered, and turned away. As she covered her face with her hands, I heard her say, 'My poor boy is gone.' That was the last time I saw her till after the war.
"Mr. Holmes was very harsh with me, allowing no liberties whatever. When he found out that I could write, he was at first very much astonished and then very angry. He told his brother, Joe, that if he ever caught me, Joe told William Kerns, a planter who had been very kind to me, Mr. Kerns came out to the place where I was cradling and said to me, 'Get away from that, old man, before he gets his hands on you.'
"My former master had a son whose name was also James H. Inship. Like his father he was very kind to his boys. At heart he was an abolitionist and treated me with great understanding.
"One night my master told me to go to the old place, 50 miles from Georgia. This was the first time in my life that I had set eyes on Canada. When we made up our minds to go, he taught me how to drive and how to handle a team. When it was about 10 o'clock at night, I went straight to the cabin where I was born and said, 'Boys, I am going to Canada and you may join me.' I ran away and going up the highway, but almost the first thing we saw was a poster, nailed to a dead tree, describing me and offering a reward for my return. That frightened us so that we never again ventured on the highway in the daytime.
"Only once, in all four weeks, did we speak to anybody. One day we came in sight of a little farmhouse in a clearing. We were very hungry and decided to go down to the house and try to get something to eat. There were two women there. We asked for some food. The women looked us over and said they had nothing to give us. Later they would come back a little later we should have some food. This we were made suspicious at once. My wife and I will only eat the crust and we must hurry off. Presently we saw one of the women going rapidly down the highway, no doubt to inform the neighbors. We did not wait but hurried on our way.
"While passing through the country, we saw a number of people. One of them was a slaveholder. He talked with us a few minutes and asked how we were getting on. We told him that we were as fast as we could travel. He told us to not say anything or we would be overtaken. That lesson was sufficient. After that we neither went in or out in the daytime nor spoke to another person. When we got into the woods, sometimes we found a spring and a little green corn. This one found the berries gathered from the mountains were the only things we had to eat during the four weeks it took us to reach Pittsburgh.
"We had endured many hardships in the mountains and we were really safe there. Now came the most dangerous part of our journey. We might very easily be captured and taken back. It depended on whose hands we fell into in Pittsburgh and we had to think fast and take our chances we would remain there until we could reach the town. It was 10 o'clock in the morning when we got into town. We asked where the ferry was located. It was at nightfall when we met and all of us were out of sight. The only safe time to be down at the bridge was four o'clock in the morning. He told us to go down a street to the crossing and there we would be safe. While passing through the crowds we did not look at anybody but walked straight to the ferry.
"When we reached the doorway we were asked, 'Where are you from?' 'From Southern Pennsylvania,' I replied. 'No, you are not; you come from over the mountains. You are a Virginian, I know. Don't be afraid of me.' Then he called an old colored man. 'Take these boats and get them a place to stop,' he ordered. 'I'll be responsible for them.'
"Our guide took us to a place where there were good many colored people. A Nelie Tokus, who had run away from Romney a long time before, was one of the women. She gave us good advice to them all. That is why we had so much trouble.
"The president of that part of the Underground Railway was Squire James Marshall. The Underground Railway had people had wagons and carried us on their wagons. They were located at points. These were the black wagons every five miles. They were runaways or they would tie the wagons every five miles. When the wagons were filled with hay, they were covered with old quilts. Then we were opened by good men as far as we could see their way. Just as soon as possible Squire Marshall went to pay money, however, and paper money was not good in Canada. So Squire Marshall took my paper money and gave me $50 in gold. We went to Mooreheadville, 15 miles north of Erie, a trip of 10 miles in the covered wagons.
"We lived in Mooreheadville for about a year. A railroad had just been opened through there and one day this road we again took up our journey. We got off the train at Manchester, where we crossed the old suspension bridge across the Niagara river. On the other side of the suspension point, we found ourselves, at about nine o'clock in the morning, in Canada over the great and famous bridge. The joy we felt when we learned that we were runaway slaves and could go over the bridge, turning to me he said quietly, 'Now you are in Canada and safe as anybody.' The first thing we did was to get a home. We went to Cathereines, a town perhaps twelve miles north of here. I went to work in the American House, a freeman, safe, under the British Lion's paw. Thus ended my journey to freedom."
Helen C. Bartol & Charles R Bell Sr. (1912, December 20). From Slavery To Freedom. *Lewisburg Journal*, 6. [https://www.newspapers.com/article/lewisburg-journal-from-slavery-to-freedo/152880091/](https://www.newspapers.com/article/lewisburg-journal-from-slavery-to-freedo/152880091/)
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