which gave me an elevated position at once. Among the passengers on this
train was Gov. George N. Briggs. I was not acquainted with him, and had
no idea that I was known to him, however, I was, for upon observing me,
the governor left his place, and making his way toward me, respectfully
asked the privilege of a seat by my side; and upon introducing himself,
we entered into a conversation very pleasant and instructive to me. The
despised seat now became honored. His excellency had removed all the
prejudice against sitting by the side of a Negro; and upon his leaving
it, as he did, on reaching Pittsfield, there were at least one dozen
applicants for the place. The governor had, without changing my skin a
single shade, made the place respectable which before was despicable.

A similar incident happened to me once on the Boston and New Bedford
railroad, and the leading party to it has since been governor of the
state of Massachusetts. I allude to Col. John Henry{313} Clifford. Lest
the reader may fancy I am aiming to elevate myself, by claiming too much
intimacy with great men, I must state that my only acquaintance with
Col. Clifford was formed while I was _his hired servant_, during the
first winter of my escape from slavery. I owe it him to say, that
in that relation I found him always kind and gentlemanly. But to the
incident. I entered a car at Boston, for New Bedford, which, with the
exception of a single seat was full, and found I must occupy this, or
stand up, during the journey. Having no mind to do this, I stepped up to
the man having the next seat, and who had a few parcels on the seat, and
gently asked leave to take a seat by his side. My fellow-passenger gave
me a look made up of reproach and indignation, and asked me why I should
come to that particular seat. I assured him, in the gentlest manner,
that of all others this was the seat for me. Finding that I was actually
about to sit down, he sang out, "O! stop, stop! and let me get out!"
Suiting the action to the word, up the agitated man got, and sauntered
to the other end of the car, and was compelled to stand for most of
the way thereafter. Halfway to New Bedford, or more, Col. Clifford,
recognizing me, left his seat, and not having seen me before since I had
ceased to wait on him (in everything except hard arguments against his
pro-slavery position), apparently forgetful of his rank, manifested,
in greeting me, something of the feeling of an old friend. Th