IN commencing this story of my life, I shall depart from the usual and stereotyped method of giving a glowing description of the landscape surrounding me, or of writing a panegyric on the “glorious orb of day,” or drawing fanciful pictures of any kind; but come right to the beginning at once.

I was born in Bath County, Ky., March 16th, 1838, at a place called the Bend of Slate, near the old Forge Farm; which is but a short distance from Mount Sterling. My parents' family consisted of four children—James, Nancy, Mary, and myself.

The story I am about to relate is not made up of romance or fiction, but is a plain, unvarnished tale of my own individual experience; to be brief and concise, a transcript of my own life. As perhaps the scenes of my childhood would prove uninteresting to most of my readers, I shall not dwell long on them, contenting myself with merely stating briefly a few events, and then passing to the stern realities of my bitter life. How vividly my mind reverts to the past and, in fancy how plainly I can see the dear old home of my childhood days; the garden and the fields and wildwood; and above all, how plainly I can see the loved ones there. My dear mother, in the old and familiar rocking-chair, her needlework in her lap, and her eyes beaming with gentleness and affection; my generous brother and kind sisters, reading or sewing; and to complete the group, I myself, free from all sorrow and anxiety,—a trusting and unsophisticated little child. Although my home was but a rude log hut, I loved it none the less for that; for then there were no ambitious aspirations in my heart; and this humble cabin was dearer, far dearer to me than the finest palatial mansion would be now. There my happy days began, and there, alas! were they ended. In those dear old woods I have wandered many a long hour, gathering the early daisies and cowslips; or sat beneath the wide-spreading trees, weaving the bright wild roses into a wreath for my happy brow. There, on those sweet, green hills I loved so much to gather the huckleberries, and watch the pretty little birds as they flew from branch to branch carolling their sweet wild strains; or, when the cold winds blew, and the snow covered the ground and the leafless trees, I took my dogs and roamed over the hills and valleys, in search of something for pastime, for that was my ideal.

Well do I remember the giant trees with their wide-spreading branches, that were massed through the woods and around our old cabin home, when we first took up our residence in it. About that time a terrible hurricane passed over our portion of Kentucky, dealing destruction, and in some instances death, in its march.. But to me it did not appear in its devastating form; but the leaning and lodged trees, and numberless pendent branches, which seemed as nature's gymnasium for us happy children, made it appear to me all the more beautiful and romantic. My busy hands carried the brush from the yard, cut down the brambles, tall weeds, and thistles; and in their stead I planted fruit-trees, flowers, etc., while the wild rose and olive bushes from the woods, together with the lovely wild violets and sweet williams, were planted promiscuously over the yard.

My daily routine was to roam at will through the woods and over the great hills during the summer's warm days; and during the wintry days, bleak and dreary, I amused myself by sitting in the corner of our humble cot, watching the bright flames dancing up from the great stone fireplace, and the blue smoke curling and flying through the black, sooty chimney; and wondering where all the pretty flames and the misty curling smoke went to. O! well do I recollect the air castles I built by that bright, shining fire, and wondering if they would ever be realized. But, alas! how changed is everything since then! Swiftly the reminiscences of the past rush over my mind, and in fancy I see the family group seated around a cheery fire, just as we sat years agone. I can see my mother's angelic countenance, as the rays of the firelight beamed upon it; and hear the happy voices and merry laughter that echoed through the house, as some amusing recital was told us. I hear the agreeable voices of the guests as they propounded enigmas, to hear how readily I could repeat them. And the Bible enigma, how well do I remember it! and when I asked that it be repeated, my mother said, “I would rather not have it recited now.” Then, while her face beamed love and affection, mingled with a mother's pride, would she turn to me, lay a hand on my shoulder, and say: “Katie, mamma would like to have you look for it in the Bible yourself, and read it; won't you try to find it now?”

Awakening from my slumbers on the morning after the scene I have been describing, I exclaimed,—“O, mamma, I have had such a queer dream: Methought I was in a lion's carcass, and the bees had filled me with honey!” My dear mother looked at me, said nothing, but smoothed my hair, and shook her head deprecatingly. She had predicted in my future something fearful from that dream, to know which troubled me greatly,—for to me everything seemed bright and beautiful, giving not a thought for the morrow, knowing nothing of sorrow or care, and firmly impressed with the idea that my after-life would be, as my childhood had been, a joyous and a happy one.

But, alas! those bright days have too quickly passed away; childhood's hours have fled too soon, and though I shall never be able to realize them again, they can never be effaced from my memory, and the recollection of them will always be green in my heart.

My parents not being blessed with more than a very limited share of this world's goods, made it incumbent upon us children, when arrived at a suitable age, to take some means of keeping the larder full at home; and to this fact am I indebted for being thrown upon my own resources at the early age of seventeen, to earn a livelihood for myself, and do battle with the bearded monster—cold and heartless as he is and was—the world. Unfortunately for me, I had an Aunt,—a perfect busybody, who generally knew more about the affairs of her friends and neighbors than she did of her own; and so extremely wicked were her designs, that she never was more happy than when, by the working of her venomed tongue, she was blasting the reputation or stabbing at the character of some one. Friend or foe, none escaped ; and at last I became the victim of her aspersion.

My Aunt was a Doctress, and resided near Owensville, Bath Co., Kentucky. She was very anxious that I should do her sewing, but was not at all willing to remunerate me for services rendered; and I very properly refused, feeling I could not afford, with justice to myself, to be charitable in this respect, as I was wholly dependent upon my own exertions for a livelihood. Finding her wishes thwarted, she became very much incensed against me, and proceeded to heap her maledictions and invective upon my devoted head, and to vilify me in the most cruel manner. Knowing that I had never injured her in any manner, it was an enigma to me—the course my Aunt was pursuing; and I now experienced nothing but frowns and hate, where I had reason to expect smiles and love.

“I don't know how Aunt can be so cruel as to try to injure my reputation, which she knows full well is spotless,” I said to my mother one day, in a distressed tone; “and as nothing I can say or do will change her course,—reconciliation being out of the question,—I am determined to leave home. Perhaps when I am gone, she will repent of her actions towards me, and probably try to make amends. At all events, I shall not be subjected to the humiliation of hearing her sow broadcast her calumnies, with no means at hand to defend myself. Time, the arbitrator of all things, will yet justify me in the eyes of those to whom she (my Aunt) has defamed me.”

With this object in view, I went to my eldest sister, who was then residing near Howard's Mills, on the road leading from Mount Sterling to Mudlick Spring. To her I told my troubles and anxieties, and acquainted her with my intention of seeking a new home, to which she readily assented.

Mrs. Turley, a charitable and humane lady residing close by, whom we took into our confidence, and who promised to aid me in my new endeavor, a short time after introduced me to a Mr. Bonden. a wealthy old gentleman of the neighborhood, to whom she highly recommended me as a good girl in search of a home. Mr. Bonden invited me to call at his house the next day, and see Mrs. Bonden; which I did. This lady seemed very much pleased with my appearance, and after learning a portion of my history, promised that I should have a good home with her; for which I thanked her most heartily, telling her she should never have reason to regret the confidence then placed in me—a perfect stranger.

I had resided at Mrs. Bonden's about five weeks,—five of the pleasantest I had spent for many month's before,—and had begun to think that life's darkest page had been blotted out from my horoscope, and that now, and in the future, everything would be bright and beautiful. But my fond expectations were, alas! doomed to be dashed rudely to the ground, for, about the time I speak of, I was one day startled by a visit from my mother, who requested me to accompany her home, giving as her reason for such request that my Aunt still persisted in circulating terrible reports about me, which my absence tendered to confirm, proof strong as holy writ, and that the only way the foul stain could be removed from my pure and spotless character, was to immediately return home, and let my friends and neighbors see for themselves that my Aunt's most fiendish reports were false.

“Great heavens,” I thought, “what motive urges this woman what object can she have in view, what aim to be attained, in thus wilfully maligning me, and trying to blast, beyond a hope of recovery, the fame and character of one who never has in thought, word, or deed, knowingly injured a hair of her head?”

To me it was an inexplicable mystery; and as I could not answer the question, the only relief I found was in tears—a woman's solace when all things else fail. This was to me the first bitter trial of my life, for the pangs I now felt were more poignant than any I afterward experienced,—from the fact of my youth and inexperience I had not as yet learned to grapple with the monster—world, and felt despondent and heart-sick. It was hard to give up my new home, for to me it had indeed been a good home. Mr. and Mrs. Bonden had been very kind, and treated me with all the love and affection a child of their own could expect; and the parting from them seemed to sunder ties felt only between parents and offspring.

But my own mother wished it to be so, and to her better judgment, though much against my own feelings, I yielded, and once again entered my paternal abode. On the Sabbath following my arrival at home, I went to Saltwell Church. After service, returning home alone, I met an acquaintance, Mr. Hamilton, a young man residing in our neighborhood, who addressed me in his usual abrupt and eccentric manner, as follows,—

“Miss Kate, have you any objections to a young man, who is not at all inclined to matrimony, going home with you.”

I laughingly replied in the negative and we pursed our way together, soon overtaking a cousin of mine, who earnestly requested us to accompany her to her house, adding that she was aware mother and myself were not on the best of terms but that she was not to blame for that, and did not wish any ill feeling to exist between herself and me on that account, as she could not control her mother's actions.

“Nor her tongue either,” I added.

“No, Kate,” said she; “would to God I could.”

She also stated that her mother would be absent during the balance of the day; and to please my cousin, I very unwisely determined to accompany her home, for I did not really blame my cousin, or harbor any ill-will against her on her mother's account, knowing she was not accountable for her parent's misdeeds.

After remaining at her house for some time, and just as Mr. Hamilton and myself were preparing to leave, my Aunt came in, sneeringly remarking as she saw Mr. Hamilton, that his choice of company would do him more harm than good. He seemingly paid no attention to this venomous fling at myself, or, if he did, treated it with silent contempt, which had the effect of only further enraging my Aunt. For the succeeding two years, Mr. Hamilton was my regular and only escort to church, and such other places as I visited in the meantime, which was a source of great annoyance to my envious Aunt, who was sorely galled to find her efforts thwarted in poisoning this gentleman's mind against me. Things went on quietly for a while, Mr. Hamilton still waiting upon me.

One day, sitting together in my mother's house, he proposed marriage to me, in his abrupt and brusque way. He being the last man in the world from whom I had any reason to expect overtures of that kind,—for during our two years' intimacy he never broached the subject of love in my presence,—I hardly knew what to think, and felt a great deal embarrassed. But finally coming to myself, I reminded him of the remark he made on a certain Sabbath, about two years ago, and asked him how he reconciled his present course with the argument used then.

He answered, “Kate, time works many changes. Man is a creature of circumstances, and must adapt himself to them. What we firmly believe is right today,—to-morrow, perhaps, we reject, owing to governing circumstances, as certainly wrong. My convictions have undergone a change, and I should not be held accountable for language used two years ago in relation to a matter as important to me as this is to-day. I wish to get married, settle down, have something to love and live for. I love you. Be my wife, and I think we can be happy.”

Most earnestly thanking him for the compliment he had paid me,—the greatest a man can offer to any woman,—I replied, “that I never could marry him. I respected him as a very dear friend,—would be very sorry to lose his friendship, but I never could entertain sentiments of love—the love which a wife ought to feel for a husband—towards him.”

After this interview, a coldness grew up between us, at least on his part, for I could not cease to respect him as a very dear friend. But a short time after I had more than reason to congratulate myself in not returning his passion and linking my destiny with his, for if his love for me had been pure and unselfish, he would not have yielded to a first denial so easily, and transplanted his affections so quickly as he did. For he made the same professions of love to my cousin a short time afterward, with whom he fared no better, she having discarded him for a wealthy old widower, who was a better “catch” in her eyes on that account. Before doing this, however, she did not fail to taunt me with having supplanted me in the affections of Mr. Hamilton. But I was willing to let her enjoy this seeming triumph, not telling her that I had already discarded him. I did tell her, though, that any woman ought to be proud of Mr. Hamilton's love, as I believed, where he really loved, he would make a good husband.

It is an old adage that “curses, like chickens, come home to roost;” and in my Aunt's case I had ample opportunity to see the adage verified, for the injuries she had striven to heap upon me recoiled upon herself and family tenfold. My cousin lay sick, upstairs, at her brother-in-law's. When I first became aware of the fact, I could not repress the smile of satisfaction that broke out over my face, but my better nature soon asserted its sway, and I felt as deeply for them as though they had never tried to injure me. I even sympathized deeply with my unfortunate cousin, who, having failed to gain the much coveted affections and wealth of the widower, now as a last resort tried every means to regain the affections of Mr. Hamilton, and even affected tears, by covering her eyes with her handkerchief. Although Mr. Hamilton was entirely innocent of the sin and shame she endured, it was too late to revoke the past, and he could not yield to her entreaties in regard to matrimony. Soon after this my Aunt started for Cass County, Mo. Upon their arrival my Aunt's son wrote to me requesting correspondence, to which I agreed. We had corresponded for some time, when he ceased writing, and I lost all trace of him.

One year had passed, when Mr. Rice, one of our neighbors, went to Missouri, and on his return my cousin accompanied him and greatly surprised me by a visit. He begged pardon for his negligence in not writing. In excuse, he alleged that he had been across the plains with an Indian trader. He related the many adventures through which he had passed; how he came near starving to death, to prevent which, they were obliged to kill their oxen; also, how often he had lain on the ground with his boots for a pillow, when the rain came down in torrents, not only drenching, but almost drowning him. He stated also that the trader had with him a woman, who loved and trusted him, whom he sold, together with her three innocent children, to the wild and savage Indians, never more to return to their native land.

Such were the wretches with whom he was associated: who for a paltry sum could sell their own flesh and blood, to be slaves to the savage hordes who inhabit the western wilds. It seems my cousin could not ingratiate himself with those traders so as to become popular among them, therefore tried to expose them merely for revenge.

He came home in destitute circumstances after all his hardships, having been cheated out of his wages which I doubt not was the truth. I soon learned the object of his visit. He told me in his usual whining pining sing-song way, how he had loved me from childhood, and could not endure life without me, &c., adding, that he had land in the State of Kansas, and was prepared to settle. He built a great many air castles, and held out many luring inducements and fair promises. Alas for the deceit of man!

It never occurred to me to doubt my cousin's assertions, so I listened, enraptured, whilst he erected hundreds of air-castles.

But enough! Suffice it to say, we were married, December 5, 1858 near Howard's Mills, Montgomery County, Kentucky. Early in March we started for Missouri. On arriving at Cincinnati he lacked a small amount of bearing our expenses. Then he concluded to go to Lawrenceburg, Indiana. We did so, and on arriving there stopped at Fich's Hotel, and engaged board at one dollar and fifty cents apiece per week. My husband had stopped there to earn money enough to pay our way to Missouri, and so I thought I would rather earn a dollar and fifty cents than to see it paid out, and with this conclusion sought the landlady, and asked her for sewing. She gave me all she had, and paid me my price when done. Then I engaged to sew for Mrs. Gasly. One day my husband came in and asked me for the key of my trunk. When I found he was in earnest, I refused, thinking he was a little too presuming, if he was my husband. Then he told me he wanted my pocket-book, and to be quick or he would break the trunk open.

This was high authority! I then inquired if he had spent all the money he had when we started; for I knew he had no other expenses except to pay for his board;—as for mine, I had paid for it by sewing. (The money I had in my pocket-book was a parting gift from my dear mother, which she advised me to keep till I got into trouble, which she predicted would not be far distant; and I determined to do as she told me.) I knew then for the first time that he had the disposition of his mother, and thought it would be wrong and make matters worse for me to humor him. We went to my room and I took the pocket-book out of my trunk; he said nothing, thinking I intended to give it to him, but to his disappointment I went out and gave it to Mrs. Gasly for safekeeping. In giving her an explanation why I wished her to take care of it, of course I disclosed to her that my husband had spent his money.

The next morning Mr. Fich called on Mr. Griffin (my husband) for his board; but, as before stated, he had spent his money, consequently he could not pay him. He had done nothing while at this place except to nail on about two thousand shingles, lapping them all the wrong way, which I learned by Mrs. Fich coming to my room and asking my husband's occupation. I told her he was a farmer. She said that Griffin had imposed himself on her son for a carpenter. I did not say anything to him that evening; he noticed my dejection and asked the cause. I told him I was thinking about going home to Kentucky.

“What in the name of God is the matter?” he exclaimed.

“Why, I mean, if you are not going to pursue a different course, I had better return to my friends.”

“What have I been doing wrong?” he exclaimed.

“Do you intend me to support you with my needle?” I said.

“He replied that he knew no other way, for Mr. Fich was going to charge all his wages for the shingles spoiled.”

“Well,” said I, “you know that pulling them off after being nailed would destroy them. You cannot expect him to lose the shingles and allow you the same amount per day as though you had done the work right. You have spent all your money foolishly since you have been here, and it seems to me you expect me to make our whole support. I intend to do all I can to help make a living; but I had no idea when we were married that you would expect such a thing of me as this!”

Then he requested me to tell him what to do, and he would do it.

“I think it would be best for you to go to the country and obtain work on a farm; you know you are a farmer,” was my advice.

The next morning he started to the country to work for a man, but when ready, he had no money to hire a hack; so I gave him the money I had been sewing for - and also some money that my mother gave me— and told him to hire a hack, and buy the necessary articles of clothing that he needed, and not to spend the rest till he needed it. “Why? why?” he asked. But I did not say why; I did not say anything; but, oh! I thought my heart was breaking; and the great knots were swelling in my throat, and I could not answer. I saw my future; and had I been resolute enough then to have gone home, how much better it would have been for me! I thought of it and pondered many long days and nights. But it is no easy task for a woman to leave her husband, even if she be resigned to the separation. If her husband is disposed to dispute her authority, she is just like a slave, subject to all his selfish interrogations, as, “Why are you not content with this, that, or the other?” and then he looks unutterables on hearing her responses; and if she leave, he will follow her and command her to return home, just as if she were his property sure enough. This I knew my husband would do, and I loved him and could not endure the idea of being harassed by him. Had I been sure I should never have seen him, I should have gone; for I saw too plainly my darkened future, and shuddered at the vision. I prepared to go with him, and packed some of our clothes; the rest we left with the landlord till he could pay the seven dollars board he owed. In a few hours we arrived at our temporary home, and my husband and the gentleman walked out to view the farm and form plans for the work. I was anxious to start for Missouri, and thought if I could pay my own board he could save money so much sooner to defray our expenses. So I asked the lady. I told her if she could give me as much sewing as would pay my board, I should be willing to do it, as I had nothing to engage me. She was pleased with the proposition and said it would suit her better than the money, as she had sore eyes. We soon had money enough to make another start, and so I told her I would pay my board till I arranged our clothes for that purpose. But she declared she must have her sewing done, and said she would acquaint my husband and have him force me to do it. I thought I was besieged by everything that was evil. The family were accustomed to having worship, but I refused to attend on this evening, telling them I could pray for myself. I felt discouraged with everything, and I called my husband to my room and told him all that had occurred during his absence, and requested him to get another boarding-house for me till we could get ready to start. “You have been a good wife to me,” he said, “and none shall impose on you while I live.” He then went to Mr. Small's to get board for me, which he succeeded in doing, and had a hack in readiness, when the lady made her appearance at the door. “Had you not better thank me for my generosity in taking you in as a stranger?”

“Perhaps the obligation is on the other side,” I returned.

“Well, well,” she interrupted, “if you do not stay as long as I wish you to, I shall not pay you for what you have done.”

“There may be something in our laws that will compel you,” I returned, as I rushed from the house to the hack, through a drenching rain, feeling as one who was escaping from prison.

“I do not wish you to leave my house as though you were obliged to,” she called; but I was gone.

What a change to get to Mr. Small's! I felt as if I was in paradise—they were so kind. In two weeks my husband received the money due him and me, and then he announced his intention of visiting Aurora, a small town in Indiana. I called him back, and put my arms around his neck, determined to win him from temptation, if possible, by affection and said,—

“Dear husband, don't go; you know your failing, and must not spend your money. I am sure you have had trouble enough. Take my advice this time, and don't go.”

“I shall not spend it at all,” he declared, as he released himself from my arms and walked off.

That promise was easily made, but not so easily kept; and when in the evening he started home, Aurora possessed half his money.

In August we went to Aurora; and after he had paid his board-bill to Fich, we got on a boat and started for Kansas City. Our means being limited, we were forced to take deck passage; and oh! I can never express my feelings as I stood on the dingy deck of that boat—among the rude class that took passage there because they were either too poor to take first-class fare, or did not care—and thought how I was leaving all that was dear to me, and going to a strange, wild country; and with one, too, who did not love me as a man should love the wife who has given up every friend on earth to follow him. Some strange and wild thoughts forced themselves on my mind; but I indulged in them only a moment, and then resolved that I had taken him for better or for worse, and would do the best I could.

After a weary journey we arrived at Kansas City, and he hired a carriage to take us to his mother's.

MY mother-in-law met us at the gate with open arms, to receive us. It was a glorious day in summer; the sky of unsullied blue seemed to smile upon us in all its pristine beauty. Not a leaf rustled or a breeze whispered to mar the serenity of this sweet repose.

My mother-in-law gazed on me with a longing eye, and as I returned the gaze, I felt a cold chill creep all through my veins and settle down upon my heart. Oh! how I missed the genial warmth and out-gushing love which I was accustomed to receive from my own dear mother, and all the loveliness which surrounded her happy home. I could but be silent for a time. The bitter, bitter feelings of regret seemed to come surging up from my heart and threatened to deluge me in tears. With a great effort at self-control I tried to be agreeable. I imagined at first, that my mother-in-law had learned to curb her temper. But, alas! I too soon learned that she was the same she used to be: this was a grievous trial to me. I resolved to bear it all patiently. The house was near the road leading from Paoli City, Kansas, to Cold Water Grove, Missouri.

My mother-in-law's apparent kindness soon ceased, and I became the offcast of the family, the servant of them all.

I learned, to my horror, by my mother-in-law, not long after my arrival there, that my husband had completely deceived me in everything he represented; he had no horses, his land in Kansas had been sold for debt, and he had borrowed sixty dollars from Mr. Rice to pay his expenses to Kentucky, which was and ever would be unpaid; that he could not support a wife, and would be compelled to live with her. My mother-in-law took in strangers and travellers, which very much increased the household duties, the most of which devolved upon me. I bore these burdens patiently for a time, flattering myself that we should soon go to housekeeping. But now I was completely disheartened; notwithstanding, I did not despair. One evening I persuaded my husband to take a walk with me, that I might have a chance of speaking to him, unheard by any other, in reference to housekeeping.

“Can we not go to housekeeping?” I interrogated, when we had walked a short distance from the house.

“Go to housekeeping, indeed!” he repeated with astonishment. “How can you presume such a ridiculous thing? Where is anything to commence with? I am sure you must be insane.”

“Oh no, I am not,” I pleaded; “I know we have nothing to commence with, as you say, but we can get something; we can soon earn something. I am not afraid to work.”

“Nonsense, nonsense,” said he; “I am not going to discommode myself to do anything of the kind.”

“But we can never live happily here,” I suggested.

“As for the happiness, we are just as well off here. I am satisfied we can do no better. I am not at all incumbered with work here, which, you know, is quite a bore to me; and I have not the least idea of relinquishing such a comfortable position, just to please you.”

ON the following morning, an Indian chief, who was on business through that portion of the country, chanced to call. I viewed him at first with much curiosity, for although I had seen a great many Indians, this one bore off the palm for jewelry and fancy costume. He had an intelligent look, too, notwithstanding his rather fanciful array of antique ornaments and garlands of feathers, and his keen eye seemed to take in everything at a glance. A strange thought struck me as I thus watched his manners—that through his intercession I might possibly effect my escape. I meditated a moment, and then concluded that there would be no risk in trying it, as it was only death if I remained there; so I endeavored to attract his attention unobserved; but failing in this, I spoke aloud, and said:

“I know who first brought tobacco into Kentucky, and laid it on a log.”

WHEN my husband came home in the evening, he was made acquainted with the plan of locking the door, which he approved of, saying, “It is well for something to be done,” although he did not think there would be any notice taken of the marks caused by the cords with which I was confined,, should any person happen to see me, as they had duped every one to believe that I was insane; but still it would be well to be a little careful; and he advised his mother to have the straitjacket completed as soon as possible. It would save a great deal of trouble, they said; besides, it would he impossible to get away, as I could have no use of my hands, and therefore could not exert myself to get loose, and the least rope would secure me.

“Now this is my last chance,” I murmured to myself, as I listened to this undertone conversation, “and I am determined to leave this house to-night if there is the least possible chance; for if I fail to make my escape to-night, the straitjacket will be completed, and then it would be useless to attempt an escape.” Thus I mused, till my brain was all in a whirl, and I almost lost my senses.

That night, as my husband tied me previous to retiring, his mother stood by to see that it was well done, and in giving directions, said, “You must fasten her securely, for I believe she intends to make a desperate effort to get away to-night.”

“Well she is perfectly welcome to get away,” he sarcastically replied, “if she can get loose after I have tied her.” As he spoke these wicked words, he drew the cords so tightly about my wrists that I almost shrieked with pain, and with all the self-control I could summon I could not suppress an exclamation of pain each time the cord was drawn tighter; but for all this, I should not have begged had he cut my wrists off.

“I shall never make any concessions to you,” I declared, as the last knot was tied; “I love neither of you, and I shall never bow to those I do not love. You may tie me, you may punish me, you may poison me with your quinine, or kill me outright, if you choose, but if I ever do get away I shall tell it.”

Perhaps I should have buried their secret in my heart, but I did not think of that then. I only thought how cruelly they had treated me; my husband, too, whom I had trusted further and loved better than any one else in the world, and now hated worse; and in my prayers that night I asked the good and merciful God to release me from their cruel hands.

“Truly, either God or the Devil has something to do with you,” said my mother-in-law, with emphasis; “but you will rue this one of these days; for I assure you, if one thing will not bring you to, another will. You will never get away from here—never!”

I heard her tell my husband that he and two brothers must lie on the floor, to prevent me from trying to make my escape; and I heard her say that if I did by any means get loose and attempt an escape, the door, on being opened, would come in contact with the rock she had placed there, which would make a great noise, as there was no carpet on the floor, and could not fail to arouse them. I accidentally got this idea and was prepared for it. The cords by which I was fastened were so very tight that the pain became unbearable, and I called to my husband to loosen them a little. I knew that that was my last chance to get away, and that it was quite impossible to make even an effort, being tied as I was; but my pathetic imploring was tinctured with no thought of escape, for in this great suffering I was wholly oblivious of everything else. He paid no attention at first; but by-and-by, becoming exasperated at my importunities, he arose, exclaiming, “I will loosen those cords a very little, and then I wish you to remain quiet and not disturb me again to-night.” Then he loosened the cord a little, and, tying about twenty knots to my hands and twenty to my feet, asked if I thought I could get away. I think the cord was looser than he had an idea of. Thoughts of escape immediately returned on being freed from this excessive pain; and, when he had gone to his room, I tried to get loose, determined that the cord should come off if the flesh came with it. So I let my left hand fall behind me, and, turning on my side, succeeded with difficulty in getting my right hand to my teeth; and, by great and untiring perseverance, and, almost at the expense of my cuspids, I at length got the first knot untied. Thus encouraged, I persevered until the right hand was freed from the horrible cord, which soon set at liberty my feet and other hand. I knew well that such sluggards as lay on the floor were sure to sleep; and, having little fears of them, I waited until satisfied that the rest were asleep, and then slipped out of bed and cautiously and silently hastened toward the door, not pausing in my haste to get my clothes, lest they should hear me. Picking up the rock that I had an idea was there, I carefully unlatched the door and passed out, climbed the fence, rushed across the garden to the woods, and did not slacken my speed until I reached Coldwater Grove, where I paused exhausted and sat down to rest. The grove to which I alluded was in the form of a triangle, and composed exclusively of black-oak trees, so closely interspersed with hazel-bushes that it was almost impossible to pass.

“Free at last—O Holy Father!” I murmured, as I sank exhausted to the earth, and in heartfelt gratitude humbly thanked Him for assisting me in this coup de main. For some time I sat wearily by the roadside, contemplating my happy escape, wholly regardless of the cold frost that was silvering all beneath, and the bleak winds which pierced my weak and wasted fame. I was too happy at having made my escape to realize the gloomy aspect of the scene, and no thought of fear entered my head until my attention was attracted by the sound of a horse's step. Quick as thought, I parted the underbrush and rushed through, and crouched down behind some bushes. Scarcely had I hidden, when a little dog came bustling through the bushes, and presenting himself, before me, barked furiously. I was almost frantic, for I felt sure it was some person or persons after me; and having no hope of escape,—for it would have been folly to attempt to flee though the closely-interwoven underbrush,—I only crouched nearer to the ground in hopeless despair, while the little dog's mouth close to my ear made sounds which were anything but agreeable. But in a moment, to my great relief, I heard the footsteps pass; and as the foot-fall grew a little fainter, the noisome terrier left me to follow his master, and I, taking courage, ventured to look, and just caught a glimpse of a horseman, as he rapidly disappeared in the dense woods.

Thus delivered from the terrible idea of being captured, I again thanked the great and merciful God, putting all my trust in Him. But with all the courage I could summon, sustained by my hope in God, I could not shake off the gloom that pervaded my soul. I thought of my child, and a pall of remorse shot through my breast; and the agonizing feeling I endured, as I thought how I had left her with those who were the most cruel, perhaps forever,—can never be described. But I could not have got her unobserved, I reasoned to myself, and it was better so; I thought there would be some way provided for me to get possession of her, if I could only get away myself.

After I had got somewhat rested, I again pursued my weary way. It was a cold night in October; a few dark clouds hung in the zenith, which now and then overshadowed the moon, hiding from view for a moment its shining disc, then permitting its cheering rays again to fall to guide my lonely way. The leaves had all fallen from the trees and lay in great brown heaps on the ground. The tall, rank grass rustled and sighed in the cold west wind, and the heads of the gigantic oaks bowed slowly and sadly, as if in homage to the dying verdure.

For several hours I pursued my way, vainly endeavoring to catch a glimpse of light from some friendly house; but I was not cheered by any welcome light, and was obliged to continue my journey till the darkness rendered it impossible. The sky had become densely overcast by dark and portentous clouds, not a ray from the full round moon casting its silvery light to illuminate the unfrequented and dismal pathway; and the keen, cold wind shrieked and howled among the tall oaks, causing them to bend as though they were reeds, and hurling many dead branches and trees to the ground.

Finding it impossible to proceed further, I wandered from the road into the woods, pulled up some grass and put it by the side of a log to break the wind, and laid down to rest, but not to sleep. My feet were horribly lacerated and swollen from walking through the wild thistle and rosin weed, and I was almost chilled to death. A very short distance from where I stopped was a high cliff from which a huge rock projected, and over this ran a great stream of water, which gushed out from the cliff, and, passing rapidly over the rock, precipitated itself to the ground with a great noise, the distance of about thirty feet. The falling of this little cataract had washed the earth away and formed quite a deep hole, at the bottom of which was a large flat rock, and the water falling so far into this hole made a sound that was dismal enough.

I remained there the rest of the night, listening to the wind wailing through the tall trees, and the incessant splash of the waterfall, while everything imaginable that was hideous harassed my mind. The dark clouds, which looked so threatening, only moistened the earth with a few drops and then passed gradually away; and when the rosy morn made its appearance, the sky was perfectly serene—not a cloud to be seen in the heavens. I knew by the crowing of the chickens that I was near some house, and, on its becoming light enough for me to see, I noticed a white house just a little way off, and nearing it I recognized it as the residence of Mrs. Turley. In all my wanderings of the night I had got only about two miles from home.

I knew well that Mrs. Turley was no friend of mine; but there was no alternative but to go there, as I could not travel any further in such raiment, and I was weak and exhausted, and determined to try my fortune any way.

At Mrs. Turley's suggestion, old auntie, the colored woman, brought forward some clothes and assisted me to dress, calling me “honey” and “dear,” and pitying me, saying that she did not think I was crazy. The words of sympathy and encouragement that she spoke sounded more natural and humane than any I had heard since I left home, if they did come from the lips of a slave; and I can never forget the good impression they left on my mind.

Mrs. Turley had heard the report that I was insane, and believed it, or pretended to; and I am confident she apprised my husband of my whereabouts, for just as I was breakfasting he came in with a disagreeable curl on his lip, and said, “To be sure you are crazy, or you would never have left home in such a plight;” and with a patronizing air told me to prepare to go home. Remonstrance was vain and I was obliged to go with him. Though he made a sacred promise not to take me to his mother, he proceeded straight there, and with a savage exclamation of triumph delivered me into the hands of his mother.

I was soon in my accustomed place of confinement, the strait-jacket in process of making, while my mother-in-law occupied the time well in giving vent to her spleen in wrathful expressions.

Mrs. Turley had advised my husband that morning to take me to the Insane Asylum at Kansas City, and he expressed his intention of doing so, while I was delighted with the idea, knowing that I could speedily get my liberty if sent there, as I could soon prove my sanity. Buoyant with this anticipation, I endeavored to make them believe sure enough that I was crazy; and when the strait-jacket was completed I laughingly remarked that that was just the thing to save trouble, for I really pitied them when I was to myself, they had so much trouble with me. That evening the strait-jacket was put on me. It was made with no armholes, tight in the waist, buttoned up in the back. When they put it on me, I begged to lie down in the bed. My husband refused to allow me, but my mother-in-law said that was the very thing; they must keep it on me all the time; I would die some time for want of exercise. She covered me up and seated herself by the fire. When I found myself alone, I ascertained that I could let one hand fall behind me and slip back far enough to unbutton the bottom button, and then I could slip it up a little, and by continuing to persevere I entirely released myself. “Well, really, this is certainly a bad fit,” I ejaculated, holding it up to my mother-in-law, and they all looked astounded and puzzled. But at last finding her voice, she demanded in harsh tones, how the straitjacket came to be off. “I do not know, I do not know,” I answered at random, “it just came off.” “But you shall tell how you succeeded in getting it off;” she said firmly, with compressed lips. But I did not tell; she could not force me to tell, so she concluded to put it on again, and watch me to ascertain how it was done, if I attempted it again, so that it could be altered. I was wise enough to keep this a secret, and did not attempt to free myself in the presence of any one, but as soon as left alone, I would take it off. Several times the strait-jacket was put on her daughter in order to find out how it should be altered. She being larger than I, filled it up more, and failing, they tied me again to the bedstead.

“This is more natural, isn't it Kate?” remarked my husband, tauntingly, as he assisted to tie me in my accustomed place; “and perhaps you will be more content with that which you are used to, for I admit that a strait-jacket is a disagreeable thing, and it pains me to see you encumbered with it, when this process will answer every purpose.”

I was sick and disheartened, and losing all the self-control I possessed at hearing this unpardonable remark, I called out, “Leave my presence, you insignificant fellow; You are as mean as Judas! I cannot hate you enough and were I dying I fear I could not forgive you.”

A low, croaking laugh burst from the lips of my husband, while my mother-in-law grinned with indignation, and immediately left the room; but he lingered in the doorway for a few moments to indulge his incorrigible propensity for tantalizing me, and then made his exit with a disagreeable burst of pretended merriment, that echoed in my ears the whole night.