Summary

Portrait of Lunsford Lane Lunsford Lane The Narrative of Lunsford Lane…

Sunk in the very night of despair respecting my freedom, I discovered myself, as though I had never known it before, a husband, the father of two children, a family looking up to me for bread, and I a slave, penniless, and well watched by my master, his wife and his children, lest I should, perchance, catch the friendly light of the stars to make something in order to supply the cravings of nature in those with whom my soul was bound up
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of Lunsford Lane Lunsford Lane The Narrative of Lunsford Lane…

In Boston and in the vicinity, are persons almost without number, who have done me favors more than I can express. The thought that I was now in my new, though recently acquired home—that my family were with me where the stern, cruel, hated hand of slavery could never reach us more—the greetings of friends—the interchange of feeling and sympathy—the kindness bestowed upon us, more grateful than rain to the thirsty earth,—the reflections of the past that would rush into my mind,—these and more almost overwhelmed me with emotion, and I had deep and strange communion with my own soul.
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of Lunsford Lane Lunsford Lane The Narrative of Lunsford Lane…

Legally, my money belonged to my mistress; and she could have taken it and refused to grant me my freedom. But she was a very kind woman for a slave owner; and she would under the circumstances, scorn to do such a thing. I have known of slaves, however, served in this way.
But I am going too rapidly over my story. When the money was paid to my mistress and the conveyance fairly made to Mr. Smith, I felt that I was free. And a queer and a joyous feeling it is to one who has been a slave.
Source: Gutenberg

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