Note: What follows is a secondary source—an account written after what is being described. It was written by Sarah H. Bradford in 1886, after her interviews and correspondence with Harriet Tubman. At that time, some authors highlighted the authenticity of quotations from Black people by changing the written spelling of their spoken words. Sometimes this revised spelling reflected the way a historical actor had actually pronounced words. Sometimes it did not. In the twenty-first century, scholars no longer use this practice. After an interview like Bradford had with Harriet Tubman, a historian would not change words’ spelling. It risks making historical actors seem less intelligent or less educated than was actually the case.
. . . She held a hurried consultation with her brothers, in which she so wrought upon their fears, that they expressed themselves as willing to start with her that very night, for that far North, where, could they reach it in safety, freedom awaited them. But she must first give some intimation of her purpose to the friends she was to leave behind, so that even if not understood at the time, it might be remembered afterward as her intended farewell. Slaves must not be seen talking together, and so it came about that their communication was often made by singing, and the words of their familiar hymns, telling of the heavenly journey, and the land of Canaan, while they did not attract the attention of the masters, conveyed to their brethren and sisters in bondage something more than met the ear. And so she sang, accompanying the words, when for a moment unwatched, with a meaning look to one and another:
“When dat ar ole chariot comes,
I’m gwine to lebe you,
I’m boun’ for de promised land,
Frien’s, I’m gwine to lebe you.”
Again, as she passed the doors of the different cabins, she lifted up her well-known voice; and many a dusky face appeared at door or window, with a wondering or scared expression; and thus she continued:
“I’m sorry, frien’s, to lebe you,
Farewell! oh, farewell!
But I’ll meet you in de mornin’,
Farewell! oh, farewell!
“I’ll meet you in de mornin’,
When you reach de promised land;
On de oder side of Jordan,
For I’m boun’ for de promised land.”
The brothers started with her, but the way was strange, the north was far away, and all unknown, the masters would pursue and recapture them, and their fate would be worse than ever before; and so they broke away from her, and bidding her goodbye, they hastened back to the known horrors of slavery, and the dread of that which was worse.
Harriet was now left alone, but after watching the retreating forms of her brothers, she turned her face toward the north, and fixing her eyes on the guiding star, and committing her way unto the Lord, she started again upon her long, lonely journey. Her farewell song was long remembered in the cabins, and the old mother sat and wept for her lost child. No intimation had been given her of Harriet’s intention, for the old woman was of a most impulsive disposition, and her cries and lamentations would have made known to all within hearing Harriet’s intended escape. And so, with only the North Star for her guide, our heroine started on the way to liberty. “For,” said she, “I had reasoned dis out in my mind; there was one of two things I had a right to, liberty, or death; if I could not have one, I would have de oder; for no man should take me alive; I should fight for my liberty as long as my strength lasted, and when de time came for me to go, de Lord would let dem take me.” . . .
Source: Sarah H. Bradford, Harriet: The Moses of Her People, New York: Geo. R. Lockwood & Son, 1886, pp. 27–29.