I took leave of them with the belief that I should return with my master, as soon as he had seen his hands established on his new plantation.

I took my children in my arms and embraced them; my wife, who was a member of the Methodist church, implored the blessing of God upon me, during my absence, and I turned away to follow my master.
Our journey was a long and tedious one, especially to those who were compelled to walk the whole distance.

My master rode in a sulky, and I, as his body servant, on horseback: When we crossed over the Roanoke, and were entering upon North Carolina, I remember with what sorrowful countenances and language the poor slaves looked back for the last time upon the land of their nativity.

It was their last farewell to Old Virginia.

We passed through Georgia, and crossing the Chattahoochee, entered Alabama.