Rev. Calvin Fairbank during slavery times : How he "fought the good fight" to prepare "the way"

WAS PREPARED

FAIRBANK

THE LIBRARY

OF

THE UNIVERSITY
OF CALIFORNIA

CERF LIBRARY

PRESENTED BY

REBECCA CERF '02

IN THE NAMES OF

CHARLOTTE CERF '95

MARCEL E. CERF '97

BARRY CERF '(32

REV, CALVIN FAIRBANK

DURING SLAVERY TIMES.

How HE "FOUGHT THE GOOD FIGHT" TO PREPARE
"THE WAY."

EDITED FROM HIS MANUSCRIPT.

CHICAGO:

R. R. McCABE & CO., PUBLISHEKS.

1890.

COPTEIGHT, 1890, BY R. It. MoCABE.

press of
•K. 1R. flftcCabe Si Co., Chicago.

DEDICATED

TO THE

<3uarfct anfc tbetr Successors,

WHO EECOGNIZE

"THE FATHERHOOD OF GOD, AND BEOTHEEHOOD
or MAN."

THE AUTHOR.

M554.85G

PEEFACE.

^N presenting to the public so small a volume as a
I representation of so large and extraordinary an ex
perience, I feel bound by sentiments of propriety to answer
beforehand the query of every one, perhaps, who has for
several years looked for its publication in a more extensive
edition, and at an earlier day.

Upon my liberation in April, 1864, my health did not
allow me to write. Very soon thereafter the country was
flooded with books on the war. Neither then, nor since
then have I been able myself to defray the expense of its
publication. I had written twelve hundred pages, sufficient
to make five hundred pages of readable matter; but every
one considered it too long. I had since that time prepared
what I thought could be safely published and put in market.
But men of ' experience, in order to avoid the risk of finan
cial failure, advised condensation in this edition and wait
results.

Please accept this as my apology, and believe me

Yours in faith,

CALVIN FAIRBANK.

ANGELICA, NEW YORK.
August, 1890.

CONTENTS.

PAGE.

CHAPTER I.
Parentage — Birth — Education 1-7

CHAPTER II.
Slavery Unconstitutional , 8-11

CHAPTER III.

Aiding the Fugitives — Escape of Sam Johnson — Rescue of a
Family of Seven — Meeting in Detroit, Mich., Twelve Years
Later — Helen Payne — Cross the River with Fourteen Fugi
tives in a Scow — A Man, his Wife and Three Children in
Peril — Cross the Dividing Waters on a Raft— "Get up
Quick! do, Mr. Fairbank!"— Taken to a Place of Safety. . 12-17

CHAPTER IV.

In the Fifth Generation— A Slave Girl of Fifteen— Three
Daughters Rescued — The Mother Would Not Leave Her
Mother — Shotgun versus a Colt's Revolver 18-19

CHAPTER V

Emily Ward — " I Come to Release You " — Cross the River on
a Pine Log — The " Apostle of Freedom " — " Aunt Katie "
— S. P. Chase— Gamaliel Bailey— Samuel Lewis — "The
Hunters are Looking for Emily!" — "There is my old
Master!"— "Oh! I Beg your Pardon, Lady! "—The British
Lion — John Hamilton — The Stanton Family — "Come
Over to Kentucky, and Help Us ! " 20-25

Vlll. CONTENTS.

CHAPTER VI. PAGE.

Eliza — Nicholas Longworth — The Wealth and Culture of
Boston, New York, Philadelphia, Baltimore, Cincinnati,
Washington, New Orleans, Louisville, Frankfort, and
Lexington — Hon. Robert Wickliffe — A "Black-eyed
Frenchman" — "Eliza Upon the Block" — "Embodiment
of Diabolus " — The Auctioneer Directs Attention to "This
Valuable Piece of Property " — " Two Hundred and Fifty
Dollars" — "How High are You Going to Bid?" — "Four
teen Hundred and Fifty!" — "Who is Going to Lose Such
a Chance as This!" — "Horrible!" — "Smote Her. White
Flesh" — "Boston and New Orleans Wept Side by Side " —
"Fourteen Hundred and Eighty-Five!" — The Hammer
Fell — Eliza Was Mine! — William Minnis — Left Free by
His Master — Sold by His Master's Son — A Plan Laid for
His Rescue — I am Selected for the Hazardous Undertak
ing — Go to Arkansas — Minnis Discovered after Four
Weeks' Investigation — Disguised — Take the Boat for
Cincinnati — Minnis Meets His Young Master — The Crisis
Safely Passed — Pullum, the Slave Trader, Appears — Does
not Recognize Minnis — Reach Cincinnati in Safety — On
to Canada — " Shouldered Arms for the Union " 26-44

CHAPTER VII.

My First Imprisonment — The Case of Gilson Berry — Miss
Delia Webster — Lewis Hayden — "Because I'm a Man!''-
Pete Driscoll— "An Abolition Hole" — Eli C. Collins —
Levi Collins — Dr. Rankiii — Rescue of the Hayden Family
—Three Indictments Found— Leslie Coombs — In Stiff
Irons— Two Prisoners Escape — "I'll Fix You for Slow
Traveling" — Petition for Miss Webster's Release — Plea
to the Jury — "There is Not a Slave Legally Held in the
United States of America!"— Conviction — Fifteen Years
at Hard Labor — Dressed in Stripes and Put to Sawing
Stone 45-53

CHAPTER VIII.

My Incarceration — Captain Newton Craig — Supplied with
Money — Benjamin Howard — Francis Jackson — Ellis Gray

CONTENTS. IX.

PAGE.

Luring — My Father's Arrival in Kentucky — Promise of
Pardon — Governor Crittenden — Cholera was Raging-
Death of My Father — Buried among Strangers 54-56

CHAPTER IX.

Pardoned by Governor Crittenden — A Lively Interest in
Religion — Isaac Wade — Rev. William Buck — Governor
Ouseley — A Boy Pardoned — William Driver Gains His
Freedom 57-59

CHAPTER X.

Among Old Friends — The " Old Guard " — Escape of Two Little
Girls— "Where Do All the Niggers Go To? "— S. P. Chase
Elected United States Senator— The Free Soil Party—
A Revival in Progress — Visit Cleveland and Detroit —
Meet Coleman and His Family — Sandusky — Invited to
Speak at Chicago — Six Fugitives Hotly Pursued — They
Escape to Canada — The Hunters Too Late — "Seen Any
Niggers About Here? "—"If You Can Run on the Water!"
— At Buffalo— Abner H. Francis — James G. Birney — Two
Anti-Slavery Parties — Garrison — Phillips — Smith — Pills-
bury — Abby Kelly Foster — Samuel Ward — Fred Douglass
— The Fugitive Slave Law— Henry Clay— Daniel Webster
— "When the Iron Pierces Your Heart " — The Legislature
of Massachusetts — Mr. Webster Censured — Henry Wilson
— " Doughfaces with Their Ears and Eyes Filled with
Cotton!" — John G. Whittier — "Conscience and Constitu
tion " — " You Must Conquer Your Prejudices " — - " We
Must Fight! " 60-76

CHAPTER XI.

The Fugitive Slave Law Passed — James M. Ashley of Ohio
Secures its Repeal — Marriage of William and Ellen Craft
—Theodore Parker — "Take This and Defend Your Wife!"
— Fillmore and His Cabinet — "A Den of Thieves" —
"Liberty Party" Convention at Buffalo — Gerrit Smith
for President; Charles Durkee of Iowa for Vice-President
— Sojourner Truth 77-84

X. CONTENTS.

CHAPTER XII. PAGE.

Second Imprisonment — Rescue of Tamar, a Young Mulatto
Woman— Cross the Ohio at Night— Return to Jefferson-
ville, Indiana — Kidnaped — Inmates of the Prison —
"Axes to Grind" — Colonel Buckner — "Hallelujah, I'm
Victorious!" — Hon. James Speed — The Higher Law 85-92

CHAPTER XIII.
Laura S, Haviland — "Bail or Break Jail" — Marshall Plays the

Knave — Lovell H. Rousseau — I Was Slaughtered 93-96

CHAPTER XIV.

Trial and Conviction— The Testimony — "What is Linsey?" —
Leave the Jail in Irons — Judge Buckner — Judge Bullock —
Fifteen Years at Hard Labor — Five Thousand Dollars
Bail 97-103

CHAPTER XV.

My Reception — Craig's Reign — Prison Government and Pri
son Life—" Black Hole of Calcutta " 104-108

CHAPTER XVI.

My Own Experience — Craig's Conduct — The First Ten Cuts
from a Rawhide — Shot in the Back — The School of
Scandal — Punishment Escaped — Zebulon Ward — " If I
Kill You All " 109-117

CHAPTER XVII.

The Prisoners Overworked — The Smack of the Strap —
"Hardy's Best"— Sixty-five Lashes— One More Scene of
Barbarity— Playing Marbles 118-128

CHAPTER XVIII.

A Speech Before the People of Kentucky — -"The War is
Inevitable" — Governor Morehead— " The Yankees won't
Fight "—Senator K— — . —Senator John M. Prall 129-132

CHAPTER XIX.

The War — "Come on, Boys! Come on! " — A Prophecy Fulfilled
— Thirty-five Thousand One Hundred and Five Stripes in
Eight Years 133-138

CONTENTS. XI.

CHAPTER XX. PAGE.

Harry I. Todd's Reign— " That's My Daylight! "—"What You
Doin' Here?" — Skull Fractured — In the Hands of the
Government — Richard T. Jacob — General James Harlan
— " Suddenly and Mysteriously Went Down " — President
Lincoln Sends General Fry to Kentucky — A Bomb-Shell
—Thomas E. Bramlette— "Come Before Me Forthwith"—
Jacob Was Governor — "Fairbank, You are Going Out!". 139-146

CHAPTER XXI.

Pardon — Reception in the North — "Now, Ben, I'd Give it Up!"
— Reception at Cincinnati, Ohio — "Sing, Chillen, Sing!"
—"After Years of Faithful Waiting "— " Barbarism of
Slavery " — " The Horrible Whippings" —"The Staff of
Life to Him " — Reception at Detroit, Michigan — Welcome
at Oberlin 147-166

CHAPTER XXII.

Election — Vote at Oberlin — At Toronto, Canada— Field Day

— Sir Charles Napier — " I am a Gentleman! " 167-172

CHAPTER XXIII.

At Baltimore — Washington — Norfolk, Va. — John M. Brown —
President Lincoln's Inauguration — The Levee — Sojourner
Truth — ';I am a Rebel, Sir!" — Fall of Richmond — Assas
sination of the President — " How are the Mighty
Fallen " 173-181

APPENDIX.

The Elevation of the Colored Race — The Moore Street Indus
trial Society of Richmond, Va. — "The Romantic History"
— "Pharaoh Outdone" — Death of Mrs. Fairbank — The
Soldier's Award — A Much Whipped Clergyman — Marriage
of Calvin C. Fairbank— Statement of Laura S. Haviland . 183-208

REV. CALVIN FAIRBANK DURING
SLAVERY TIMES.

How HE "FOUGHT THE GOOD FIGHT" TO PREPARE
"THE WAY."

EDITED FROM HIS MANUSCRIPT.

M

CHAPTEE I.
Parentage — Birth — Education,

Y parents were of English extraction. My father's
grandfather came to New England about 1730,
and settled in Massachusetts, near what is now known
as Fall River, in the southern part of the state. My
father was born at Swansea, Massachusetts, in 1788,
during that terrible war maintained by King Philip
against the white settlements in that vicinity. He re
moved to Windsor county, Vermont, while quite young.

My mother, Betsey Abbott, was the daughter of
Jacob Abbott, a name now famous in the history of
church and state in this country, whose father settled

& HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

on Martha's Vineyard in the year 1750, where Jacob
was born. His father, with others of the family,
desiring more room, removed to Massachusetts; and
thus the family was scattered throughout New England.
When my grandmother was only twelve years of
age, being left alone one day, she was captured by the
Indians, and taken across the Connecticut river in a
canoe, then put on horseback, and carried twenty miles
into the forest to their settlement. She was kindly
treated, though carefully guarded; but she won the
confidence of the guard, who, after partaking — with her,
as he thought — too freely of "fire water," fell asleep.
It was her chance, and while all were locked in pro
found slumber, she slipped her saddle from under the
head of the chief, hastily saddled and mounted the old
white horse, who knew his young mistress, and was
soon beyond the reach of her enemies, Avhom she heard
toward day-break, whooping on her trail. "Whitey"
knew his way home, and reaching the Connecticut
plunged fearlessly in, and swimming with vigor, soon
reached the opposite bank, leaving between him and
his savage, disappointed pursuers the broad swift cur
rent of the stream. He bore his precious burden
safely up the bank, and as she appeared through the
brush, a shout of joy rang out on the morning air,
from anxious parents, and friends, who had spent the

PARENTAGE— BIRTH— EDUCATION. 3

long night in searching, and watching, and praying for
her.

My mother was born at Stafford, Tolland county,
Connecticut, February 13th, 1787, but soon after re
moved to Windsor county, Vermont, where she grew to
womanhood, surrounded, as was also my father, by
circumstances favorable to the cultivation of sanctified
pluck. On the first of January, 1810, at Judge Key's
residence, Stockbridge, Windsor county, Yermont, my
father and mother were married, and ever after in the
most holy manner, kept their plighted faith.

Upon the outbreak of the war in 1812, my father
volunteered, leaving my mother, with my oldest brother
and sister, in care of the two families. He remained
in the service until a short time before the close of the
war. Then, in company with other members of both
families, he removed to a section of country considered
almost beyond the bounds of the civilized world — now
Pike, Wyoming county, New York. There in the
woods, on the third day of November, 1816, I first saw
the light of day.

The ancestry of both father and mother, their sur
roundings in the new world, their experiences, all
tended to the development of energy, and courage both
moral and physical, and a sense of justice without re
gard to race, class, or sex.

4 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

My earliest recollections carry me back to the
forests filled with wolves howling about our cabin, the
trees so near that, falling toward it, they often crashed
upon its roof. Of society, outside of our own family, I
call up Christian communion with the neighbors. My
mother, being a pioneer, stirred up all susceptible to
gospel truth, to purity, charity, and spirituality. My
first impressions were from the Christian efforts from
house to house, in the prayer-meeting, the class-meet
ing, and preaching by the circuit preachers. These
men were accustomed to traveling over two hundred
miles in the round of their circuits, preaching nearly
every day, and on Sundays three times, filling their
several appointments once in four weeks.

As the time for the visitation of the circuit preachers
drew near, the people in the neighborhood began to so
plan their business, that all able to walk through the
forests — through mud, or snow, or both — from one-half
to two miles, might gather in the log houses — dwelling-
houses and school-houses — to listen to the preached
Word, to pray and sing praises to God, to encourage
one another, and bring old and young into the fold of
Christ.

The whole community then, so far as I knew, and
for many years after, were entirely devoted to the
work of the Methodist society there, and the promotion

PARENT A GE— BIRTH— ED UCA TION. O

of Methodism throughout that section of country ; and
to this day the Methodist idea is the prevailing idea in
the neighborhood, and Methodism holds the balance of
power over an area of a hundred miles. That was Old
Genesee Conference, as it is now, and will always be.
And that wonderful growth and steadfastness of Chris
tianity was the result, almost entirely, of the fidelity,
indomitable courage and executive ability of a noble
Christian woman. She was the instrument and power,
under the direction of the Holy Spirit, in bringing,
first, my father, then many other good men, with
their families, into the fold of Christ, following her as
she followed Him. And such a follower ! I never knew
that mother to lay down the armor — to sleep on her
watch — to fail, in all kindness, to exhort, reprove, to
warn, to commend the religion of Jesus Christ to all —
up to the day of her death, December 18th, 1882, at
the age of ninety-six. So I inherited the will and the
power to be diligent in business, fervent in spirit,
serving the Lord. I very early felt the need of the
new birth in Christ, and week after week, year after
year, mourned over my alienation from God, and from
time to time promised myself resignation to His will.
Often, when alone in the forest, I imagined myself
with an audience before me, pointing them to the
Lamb of God.

6 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

During an extensive revival in the summer and fall
of 1832, in which Eev. William Buck, then a young
minister, labored faithfully and zealously as the cir
cuit preacher, I was brought to see myself a sinner, in
a more distinct and convincing light than ever before;
and under the preaching of Eev. Josiah L. Parrish,
then of Pike county, New York, now a missionary in
Oregon, I was enabled publicly to resolve to renounce
the devil and all his works, and turn to God with full
purpose of soul, to lay all on the altar of consecration.
I heeded the call, and as soon as my means would
allow, began preparations for my work. I went to
Lima, New York, in 1839. At that time Schuyler
Seager was principal of the seminary, which was one
of the most efficient and popular institutions in the
country.

It was about that time that the attention of an
earnest class of people was turned toward a new and
growing radical institution at Oberlin, Ohio, founded
mainly through the efforts of Mr. Shepard. Rev. Asa
Mahan, of Cincinnati, Ohio, was called to the presi
dency; Charles G. Finney to the pastorate and the
professorship of the theological department. Professor
Morgan and Professor Tomes, formerly of Lane Semi
nary, were also called to professorships. Professor
Tomes was a Kentuckian (from Augusta, Kentucky),

PARENTAGE— BIRTH— EDUCATION. 1

who, disgusted with slavery, had left his native state
for one in which no slavery could exist.

I took license to preach in 184:0, and in 1842 was
ordained an elder in. the Methodist Episcopal Church,
and closed my course of study, graduating in 1844.
One incident, more than anything else outside of my
organization, controlled and intensified my sentiments
on the slavery question. It was this: I went with my
father and mother to Kushford to quarterly meeting
when a boy, and we were assigned to the good, clean
home of a pair of escaped slaves. One night after
service I sat on the hearthstone before the fire, and
listened to the woman's story of sorrow. It covered
the history of thirty yeaTs. She had been sold from
home, separated from her husband and family, and all
ties of affection broken. My heart wept, my anger was
kindled, and antagonism to slavery was fixed upon me.

"Father," I said, on going to our room, "when I get
bigger they shall not do that;" and the resolve waxed
stronger with my growth.

I

CHAPTER II.
Slavery Unconstitutional.

GREW to manhood with a positive, innate sense of
impartial liberty and equality, of inalienable right,
without regard to race, color, descent, sex or position.
I never trained with the strong party simply because
it was strong. From the time I heard that woman's
story I felt the most intense hatred and contempt for
slavery, as the vilest evil that ever existed; and yet I
supposed the institution provided for and protected by
the United States Constitution, and legally established
by every slave state; and when, previous to investiga
tion, I repeatedly aided the slaves to escape in violation
of law, I did it earnestly, honestly, in all good con
science toward God and man.

Coming within the influence of active anti-slavery
men at Oberlin, Ohio, I was led to examine the subject
in the light of law and justice, and soon found the
United States Constitution an ti- slavery, and the insti
tution existing in violation of law. My conclusion in
regard to the anti-slavery character of the Constitution
of the United States was based on common law, on its

8

SLAVERY UNCONSTITUTIONAL. 9

interpretation by the whole civilized world, and the
recognition of self-evident truth as the basis of that

interpretation, viz. :

/~

"Where rights are infringed, where fundamental
principles are overthrown, where the general system of
the law is departed from, the legislative intention must
be expressed with irresistible clearness, in order to
induce a court of justice to suppose a design to effect
such object."

This conclusion enabled me to act without misgiv
ing, as to my obligation to the General Government.
I was no longer under obligation to respect the evil
institution as protected by the Government, but was
free to condemn slavery and the slave code, — free to
follow the promptings of duty.

This was afterward supported by an acknowledg
ment in the United States Senate, by Senator Pratt of
Maryland, in resistance to an amendment to the pending
Fugitive Slave Law of 1850, offered by William H.
Seward, Senator from New York: "That whenever any
person, in any free state, shall be claimed as a fugitive
. from service, or labor, it shall be obligatory 011 the part
of such claimant to prove that slavery exists in such
state, by positive law."

Senator Pratt said: "If the amendment offered by
the Senator from New York shall prevail, the reclama-

10 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

tion of any slave from any state will be an impossibility,
for not a State in the Union has slavery established by
positive law."

Finding, then, the diabolical institution unprovided
for — finding it positively prohibited — finding it to be a
conceded fact by our best statesmen, North and South,
that not a state in the Union had slavery established by
law, I concluded, upon the highest authority in the
universe, that slavery was chronic rebellion, and that I
was not only justified, but bound by the "higher law,"
to oppose it in defense of an oppressed people. From
that time I never allowed an opportunity to aid the
fugitives to pass unimproved ; but when men and women
came to me, pleading the "Fatherhood of God," and
the brotherhood of man, I did all in my power to set
them free, subjecting myself to imprisonment and the
deepest suffering. Forty-seven slaves I guided toward
the North Star, in violation of the state codes of Vir
ginia and Kentucky. I piloted them through the
forests, mostly by night, — girls, fair and Avhite, dressed
as ladies ; men and boys, as gentlemen, or servants, —
men in women's clothes, and women in men's clothes;
boys dressed as girls, and girls as boys; on foot or
on horseback, in buggies, carriages, common wagons,
in and under loads of hay, straw, old furniture, boxes,
and bags ; crossed the Jordan of the slave, swimming,

SLAVERY UNCONSTITUTIONAL. 11

or wading chin deep, or in boats, or skiffs, on rafts,
and often on a pine log. And I never suffered one to
be recaptured. None of them, so far as I have learned,
have ever come to poverty, or to disgrace. I have
visited a score of those families, finding them all indus
trious, frugal, prosperous, respectable citizens.

For aiding those slaves to escape from their bond
age, I was twice imprisoned — in all seventeen years
and four months ; and received, during the eight years
from March first, 1854, to March first, 1862, thirty-five
thousand, one hundred and five stripes from a leather
strap fifteen to eighteen inches long, one and a half
inches wide, and from one-quarter to three-eighths of
an inch thick. It was of half -tanned leather, and fre
quently well soaked, so that it might burn the flesh

more intenselv. These flogging's were not with a raw-

«/

hide or cowhide, but with a strap of leather attached to
a handle of convenient size and length to inflict as
much pain as possible, with as little real damage as
possible to the working capacity.

CHAPTER III.
Aiding the Fugitives.

THE first slave I assisted to escape was Sam Johnson
of West Yirginia. It was in April, 1837, that, as
I was gliding down the Ohio on a raft of lumber an
acre in extent, I saw, on the Virginia side, a large,
active-looking black man walking, with his axe on his
shoulder. He was singing:

" De col' frosty mornin' make er nigger feel good;
Wid he axe on he sholer, he go joggin' to de wood."

I hailed him. He said he had a wife and two chil
dren thirty or forty miles away.
" Neber spec tu see 'em agin."
"Why don't you run away? " I inquired.
" Dunno whar tu go."
"Get on here; I'll show you where to go.''
"Ah, white man berry onsartaiii; nigger mo' so."

I argued the case. He came on board. I swung
my raft to the Ohio bank, and, springing ashore, and
throwing down axe and hat, he shuffled a jig upon free
frozen soil, with a "hoop-pee;" then picking up hat

12

AIDING THE FUGITIVES. 13

and axe, and waving a "good-bye," he was soon out of
sight.

There was a bend in the river, and when we had
rounded it, and came in sight of Mr. Schneider's, where
Sam had, by my direction, taken refuge, he and all the
family were on the bank waving hats and handkerchiefs.
Eight weeks after, I returned, and at midnight was
allowed to be put ashore in a yawl, as was customary in
those days, and learned that Sam had gone to Michigan,
or Canada, with one hundred and fifteen dollars, a part
of which had been contributed. I heard nothing more
of him for twelve years.

A few days after I met Sam Johnson, we landed on
the Kentucky side, opposite the Little Miami river. A
tall, black woman of about eighty years came to the
raft, and among other things said :

"Chillun, yo's all frum free state, I reckon?"

"Yes," I replied.

"Now, I'se got seven chillun, fo' boys an' three
gals, an' dey's neber married, kase ef dey do, dar chil
lun will be slaves too."

" Well, auntie, why don't they go away? "

"Oh, chile, ef dey had some one tu he'p 'urn dey
could get erway. Now, ef yo' all'd he'p urn, dey could
go all right."

Finally it was agreed that they should come down

14 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

after dark with their clothes in bundles, which they
did, and in the presence of their old rejoicing mother,
stepped into boats, and were soon beyond Kentucky
jurisdiction. Here we — Almon Carpenter and I — left
them in our boat with directions to land, if practicable,
just above, and make their way to the house of a
Friend — a Quaker — near, and there tie up the boat.
Next morning, visiting the spot, looking for the boat,
we did not find it; but pushing farther up the river
we found it, and learned from another Friend, of the
welfare of our charges. Of these people I heard
nothing until after liberation from my first imprison
ment, September, or October, 1849^twelve years later.
I was standing on the street in Detroit, Michigan, one
day, when a fine team, and wagon loaded with bags of
wheat, attracted my attention. I thought I recognized
Sam Johnson sitting on the loaded wagon, cracking
his whip with an air of importance. I hailed him.

"Hello, there! Whose team is that? "

"Mine, and debts paid too."

"Lucky for me, isn't it?"

" Don't know about that."

"You didn't know that I was your young master,
eh?"

"Don't know about that. I had a master once:
now it depends on who is the strongest."

AIDING THE FUGITIVES. 15

Then looking at me awhile, he leaped from the
wagon, shouting:

"Dog my skin! ef you aint' the fella helped me er-
way frurn slavery!" and seizing me as I would an eight-
year old boy, he danced about in glee. I went home
with him that night — sixteen miles back into the
country, and found him independently situated, with a
good farm well improved and stocked; his wife and
children had been recovered through his old friend
Schneider, where he found his first free shelter on the
banks of the Ohio — and they were well educated and
promising. And I also found there the seven I had
piloted to the mouth of the Little Miami a few days
after Sam's liberation; every one with a farm of eighty
acres; and the men with wives, and the women with
husbands, and all industrious and prosperous.

But to return. Helen Payne was the next slave I
helped to escape. I met her between Washington and
Maysville, Kentucky, with carpet-bag in hand. I put
her on board a steamer, went with her to Pittsburg,
where I left her in good hands, and returned to Cincin
nati, Ohio. She afterward went to New York City.

Upon my return to Cincinnati, finding some colored
people in great peril, I crossed the river with fourteen
in a scow and placed them beyond danger. A hair
breadth escape occurred during this crisis. One

16 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

fearless, determined girl, hearing her pursuers talking,
and recognizing her master's voice, hid herself under
the body of a large sycamore tree that lay on the river
bank, so that her master, in his eager pursuit of the
others, sprang upon the log, and jumped over her, as
she lay concealed under it. They all made their
escape.

A short time after, I learned that a man, his wife,
and three children, were in peril. They had traveled
from East Tennessee and were secreted in Lexington;
some one must be their Moses. I therefore started at
nightfall, traveling by a compass and bull's-eye lantern
at night, and lying in the cedars through the day. We
were four days and nights on the road, raiding corn
fields and out-door ovens, and milking the cows, for sub
sistence. We crossed the river at last on a skipper
constructed out of slabs and a few planks, and were
out of danger.

It was the very next day that, after resting until'
about sunset, I was awakened by the mistress of the-
house :

" Mr. Fairbank, there is a boy hidden in the bushes,
on the Kentucky side, and they are hunting him with,
dogs. Get up quick, do, Mr. Fairbank! "

I started up, and just in time to see the boy spring
from a clump of bushes to a narrow cove-like bayou,

AIDING THE FUGITIVES. 17

and plunging in, crawl under the bank. Down came
the human and canine hunters, leaping directly over,
from bank to bank, where the fugitive lay concealed
with his nose just out of water. The dogs followed
his track to the very edge of the bank, then leaping
over to the other side, they ran round, and round, with
noses to the ground, in great bewilderment. I watched
with intense anxiety, expecting every moment to see
them plunge into the water, and so discover his retreat;
but it seemed providential that he should be left un
harmed until darkness covered the world, when I went
with a skiff, and took him to a place of safety.

CHAPTER IV.
In the Fifth Generation.

TN June, 1842, at the foot of the mountains in Mont-
-*• goineiy county, I think, I came upon an old
plantation, with cattle and horses and slaves. Many of
the slaves were so nearly of white blood, that they
could be distinguished from the privileged class only
by their short checked dresses, and short hair. The
lord of the estate, an octogenarian, made me welcome
to anything I desired.

I became interested in a young slave girl of fifteen,
who was the fifth in direct descent from her master,
being the great-great-great-grand-daughter of a slave
whom he took as his mistress at the age of fourteen,
five being his own daughters, and all by daughters,
except the first, and all were his slaves. And now he
was expecting to make this girl his mistress.

I remained there, a guest of the family, two weeks,
and became quite well acquainted with their habits, and
felt sure I could run the risk of putting my hand
against the authority of the state in defense of as
lovely a young woman as there was in Kentucky. The

18

IN THE FIFTH GENERATION. 19

fate in store for her seemed too horrible, and when I
went away I promised to meet her and her mother at
an appointed place, with preparations all made, to place
the family — the mother and three daughters, beyond
the power of the slaveholder.

The time came. I was promptly on the spot, so
were they; but no argument could prevail upon the
mother to take her children and leave the state. Her
mother was behind, and she wanted to provide some
way for her escape. So taking leave of mother and
little sisters, — how they wept at parting from her! — the
eldest girl took her seat in the carriage and we drove
swiftly away. Once, during that long night-drive, we
were halted by a ruffian springing from the bush and
leveling a shotgun close to my face; but I thrust it
aside in an instant, and covered him with a Colt's
revolver.

We arrived in Lexington — ninety -five miles — about
half -past nine the next morning ; and the day after, took
the train to Frankfort. There we boarded a steamer
for Cincinnati, Ohio. Once in that city my way was
clear. The old hero, Levi Coffin, president, director, and
proprietor of the "Underground Kailroad," was always
grandly ready with advice. He went with me to one
of his friends, who at once solved the problem by taking
my prize into his own family and adopting her.

CHAPTEE V.
Emily Ward,

PMILY WAKD was the property of a family of that
•^ name closely related to a man who, from time to
time, did me much evil. She was of a bright brunette
complexion, and her age not over seventeen. She had
been sold to slavetraders, and by them committed to
the safekeeping of a family living in a two-story house
facing the Ohio river. The house had -a cellar, and an
attic also, and in this attic she was confined to await
the convenience of the traders to remove her to New
Orleans.

A messenger came to me with the intelligence of
her situation, and I at once prepared to help her. I
wrote a brief letter as follows:

"I come to release you. Dress in boy's clothes
quick, if you can, and come down from the window on a
rope if you have one. If not, make one of blankets,
and come down."

I crossed on the ferry, found two large pine logs
in the water near the place, and selected one as our
ship. Then placing myself between two buildings, I

20

EMILY WARD. 21

tossed pebbles against the window until I attracted her
attention, and exhibited my letter — rolled up and tied
with a string — in such a way as to indicate what I
wanted. She let down a string, pulled up the letter,
read it, nodded assent, and soon lowering her blanket
rope, slid out on it, and down to the ground, and in a
short time we were crossing the river. When we
reached Cincinnati, Emily was placed in the care of the
Apostle of Freedom, Levi Coffin, and his peerless wife,
"Aunt Katie." We passed the night in intense excite
ment, not knowing but some vigilant eye had followed
our flight, and that in an unguarded moment the slave-
hunters might pounce upon us. We watched through
the long hours, planning many ways of escape ; but we
were unmolested, and the next day was devoted to the
fitting up of my ward for a northern journey, by the
good ladies belonging to the families of S. P. Chase,
Gamaliel Bailey, and Samuel Lewis. Nightfall found
us ready to move to a place of greater security. Emily
had been dressed in the most approved style, in the
best silk, with kid gloves on her hands, and a veil
covering her charming brunette face. My horse and
buggy stood waiting a square away, and just as twilight
began to fall we were ready to start. Levi looked from
his south window and exclaimed:

"Calvin, I think the hunters are looking for Emily!

22 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

There is the officer who makes it his business, and
another man with him, coming right this way. Take
Emily quick, go out through the back door into the
street, turn the corner, and come around in front and
go to the buggy."

Emily looked — " There is my old master!"
In an instant we were out of the room and on the
sidewalk, Emily holding my arm. While we were
passing along the eastern walk, turning the corner,
approaching the front gate with an air of calm indiffer
ence, the hunters had been admitted to the house.
They looked hurriedly, begged pardon for the intrusion,
and hastened out to the front again in such a way as to
arouse the most desperate apprehension for our safety.
We had approached so near the gate, it was unsafe to
retreat, or even slacken our steps, for fear of creating a
suspicion of our identity. It was apparent that we
were to come in contact with our foe, and all we could
do was to maintain courage and composure. As we
approached the gate with an appearance of careless
security, the old, eagle-eyed, demon-hearted master
opened it upon Emily, who walked next to the fence.
He jostled her against me, and even crowded so near
that it seemed, at the time, his purpose was inspection,
and capture if he recognized his victim. All our hopes
of safety were put to flight ; it seemed almost certain

JOHN HAMILTON. 23

that this one day of liberty was to be the first and the
last for Emily Ward. Her heart beat so violently,
so audibly, that I could distinctly hear it, as she stag
gered against me. But she did not betray her agitation.

The instant the old master discovered his rudeness,
he almost prostrated himself at the feet of the girl he
sought, with manacles in his pocket for the hands and
arms then gloved in kid, and draped in silk. He had
not recognized her.

"Oh! I beg your pardon, lady — I beg your pardon.
Accept my apologies, sir, will you?"

"Oh, certainly, certainly," I replied.

They passed to the east, we to the west, and in five
minutes we were driving, behind a fast horse, out of
the city, and away from danger. It was a narrow
escape, and we hardly dared to breathe freely, until we
had put twenty miles or more between us and our
enemies. A few days more, and this child of bondage
was singing — her sorrows over — safe under the protec
tion of the British Lion. Subsequently she returned
to the United States, and lived in peace and safety.

John Hamilton.

A few days after this rescue I met a young man
named John Hamilton, thirsting for freedom, and
espoused his cause. Remembering the pine log anch-

24 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

ored to the shore, where I found the one on which
Emily escaped, I appropriated it, put him on board,
and set sail. We had to sit astride it, but it was as
safe for the fugitive as the "Great Eastern." I left
this young man with Uncle Levi, as usual ; and keeping
track of him, I am quite sure he was afterward shot in
South Carolina, during an election campaign.

The Stanton Family.

I had just rescued Emily Ward and John Hamilton,
when a whole family sold to a dealer in human
bodies, cried out:

"Come over to Kentucky, and help us!"
Casey was an expert, and he and I at once laid cm-
plans to go over to the Kentucky side for a load of
straw. We constructed a rack just the size of the
interior of the straw rack, two feet high, and strong
enough to protect a part of the family under it, and
proceeded to the barn of a free African, very near
the Stanton family, who were promptly on the spot. We
spread about one foot of straw on the bottom of the
wagon, upon which five of the children were laid, and
then three feet more of straw loaded over them. Upon
this, Mr. and Mrs. Stanton, and the oldest son were
placed, and carefully covered with another layer of the
straw. Then we had a load worth twenty-four hundred

THE STANTON FAMILY. 25

dollars. Once in Cincinnati, there were as many places
of safety as the number of fugitives demanded. There
were a father, mother, and six children saved from the
jaws of hell, through the exercise of charity, courage,
and prudence, disciplined by experience.

CHAPTER VI.
Eliza.

T NOW approach the most extraordinary incident in
•*• my history, except my long imprisonment, I can
not recall the exact date. I only remember that it was
early in May, 1843, that my sympathy and patriotism
were roused in behalf of one of the most beautiful and
exquisite young girls one could expect to find in free
dom or slavery. She was the daughter of her master,
whose name I withhold for laudable reasons, and was as
free of African blood as Kate McFarland, being only
one sixty-fourth African. She was self-educated, and
accomplished in literature and social manners, in spite
of the institution cursing her race ; and her heartless,
jealous mistress had doomed her to be sold on the
block, hating her for her beauty and accomplishments.
Eliza had been confined in an upper room of the Lex
ington jail. She recognized me as I was walking in
the jail-yard, and drew my attention by tapping upon
the window. I called upon her in her room, learned
her situation, and hastened to Cincinnati to Levi Coffin,

26

ELIZA. 27

then with him to Hon. S. P. Chase, Nicholas Longworth,
Samuel Lewis and others, returning to Lexington with
twenty-two hundred and seventy-five dollars, and a
paper authorizing me to draw twenty-five thousand if
necessary to save the girl. I was invincible, Eliza
was assured ; but she feared, as was natural, dreading
the uncertainty, shrinking from the possibility of being
offered up a sacrifice on the altar of lust and greed.

There were two thousand people at that sale, repre
senting the wealth and culture of Boston, New York,
Philadelphia, Baltimore, Cincinnati, Washington, New
Orleans, Louisville, and Frankfort ; also the city of Lex
ington and vicinity. There were ladies and gentlemen,
slave-masters and mistresses, and speculators in human
chattels — all anxiously waiting. Hon. Kobert Wick-
liffe— brother of the late Charles A. Wickliffe, Post
master-General under John Tyler, — the master of five
hundred slaves, was there with his family. And a
short, thick-necked, black-eyed Frenchman from New
Orleans, the co-conspirator with the girl's mistress, was
there. And I was there, and defied the powers of dark
ness to foil my purpose, my righteous purpose. I felt
confident of my ability to compete with any man whose
only stimulus was lust or greed, and rose above all
thought of danger in the rescue of the hapless girl.
At my left stood Eliza's aunt, a cool, intrepid, self-

28 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

poised woman, and at my right were two counselors-at-
law retained in my service.

Upon the block, before all that gazing multitude,
stood the auctioneer by his victim, who seemed ready
to drop to the earth — not a man, with a touch of manly
feeling, but the embodiment of Diabolus, trained and
anxious for his work. He directed attention to the val
uable piece of property, using all his cultivated art to
enhance its interest, calling particular attention to her
exquisite qualities as a mistress for any gentleman.
And this he kept prominent, in the most insinuating
and vile manner, outraging common decency.

Bids began at two hundred and fifty dollars, and
went up to five hundred, when the more respectable
men of the South left the field to the Frenchman and
myself.

When twelve hundred dollars was reached, my an
tagonist turned to me with an evil gleam in his eyes,
and said:

"How high are you going to bid?"

"Higher than you do, Monsieur."

And the bids rose to thirteen hundred. Again my
enemy, shrugging his shoulders, nervously asked:

"How high are you going to bid?"

And again J replied: "Higher than you do, sir.
You cannot raise money enough to take her."

ELIZA. 29

Our bidding had become slower, more cautious, each
ready to take advantage of the other. Then the villain
on the block, becoming impatient, raved and cursed,
crying: "Give! give! give!" for the higher the bids
rose, the more anxious he became.

I bid fourteen hundred and fifty. My contestant
stood silent. The hammer rose — trembled — lowered —
rose — fell — and the fiend flushed, and quick as thought
dropped his hammer, and unbuttoning Eliza's dress,
threw it back, exhibiting to the gaze of two thousand
people, her superb neck and breast, shouting in the
true professional tone:

"Look here, gentlemen! Who is going to lose such
a chance as this ? Here is a girl fit to be the mistress
of a king!"

A suppressed cry of shame, and contempt — of anger
and grief — a bitter murmur of Kentucky wrath and
disgust, rolled like a wave through that throng. South
ern women blushed, and Mr. Wickliffe hung his head
for shame; and such exclamations as "Too bad!"
"What a shame!" "Horrible!" could be heard on
every side, from both North and South.

Bids rose to fourteen hundred and seventy-five.
That was my bid. Then there was another lull in the
contest, another moment of suspense. My antagonist
eyed me viciously, and asked the third time:

30 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

"How high are you going to bid?"

Now I thought it time to let him know my real
purpose.

"It is none of your business, sir; but understand
that you cannot command money enough to take this
girl."

The auctioneer seemed at his wits' end, and then
followed a scene at which civilization blushed, and
angels wept, and the human heart sickened and turned
away; for to stimulate bidding, to appeal to and rouse
the lowest passions in man, he turned his victim's pro
file to that excited crowd, and lifting her skirts, laid
bare her beautiful, symmetrical body, from her feet to
her waist, and with his brutal, sacrilegious hand smote
her white flesh, exclaiming :

"Ah! gentlemen, who is going to be the winner of
this prize ? Whose is the next bid ? "

The people had forgotten their identity with the
"Institution." They had lost their latitude, and their
social level. The exhibition of a beautiful, helpless
'Caucasian girl, in the shambles of Republican Amer
ica, had taken all the aristocracy out of them.

"Shame! shame!" they cried; and Boston and
New Orleans shed tears, wept, side by side.

The Frenchman bid fourteen hundred and eighty.
The hammer rose high, quivered, lowered. Eliza gave

ELIZA. 31

me an appealing, agonized look, and her aunt turned
on me a glance I shall never forget.

"Are you all done? Once — twice — do I hear no
more? th-r-e-e" —and the hammer quivered, as the
Frenchman's face flushed with triumph. " Th-r-e-e " —
and the hammer fell slowly—

"Fourteen hundred and eighty-five!"

My contestant turned away, with an air of indiffer
ence.

"Eighty-five — eighty-five — eighty-five. I'm going
to sell this girl in one minute. Are you going to bid
.again? " The Frenchman shook his head.

"Once — twice — th-r-e-e times — and gone."

The hammer fell. She was mine. She fainted.

"You've got her d — d cheap, sir," said the auc
tioneer. ""What are you going to do with her?"

"Free her, sir," I cried, and woke a cheer which rose
to a true Kentucky shout that rent the air and rang
"far and wide, proclaiming liberty to the captives of
America, Russia, Brazil, and all the world."

Eliza was then borne to the carriage of Mr. Wick-
liffe, which was standing near — borne by the repre
sentatives of wealth and power, and driven to her aunt's
in the city, and attended by the elite of Kentucky — a
retinue fit to be the escort of a princess. Her free

32 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

papers were soon made legal, and as I entered the room
adjoining the one she occupied, I heard her say:

"Auntie, where is my savior?"

Her aunt not being in the room, the question was
answered by an old, Christian, free black woman,
physically and morally a facsimile of "Sojourner
Truth":

" Child, your Savior is in heaven. Yes, honey, your
Savior is in heaven."

"No, auntie, I mean Mr. Fairbank."

Just then I stepped into the room, and handing her
the folded papers, said:

"Here I am, Eliza."

"Mr. Fairbank, what are you going to do with me?"

"Nothing; you can do for yourself."

"But I belong to you."

" No, you have your free papers. You are as free
as I am."

She looked, she read.

"Am I dreaming?" she murmured, "am I dream-
ing?"

A lady who had attended her from the sale said:
" Let me see the papers ;" and looking them over care
fully, and passing them back, said: "Eliza, you are as
free as Governor Letcher."

ELIZA. 33

But it was difficult for her to realize the blessed
truth. She turned the papers over and over —

"I must be dreaming."

"No, honey," said the old colored woman, — "no,
you are free."

"Oh, is it possible? Is it possible? Blessed Lord!
Who has done this for me ! It is surely the work of my
Jesus. Oh, my blessed Lord, I am committed to Thee
for life and death ! Hallelujah! Praise the Lord!"

"Mr. Fairbank, what is your will, that I may obey?"
she asked, when her transport of joy was over.

"Eliza, I would like to take you to Cincinnati,
place you in a family of wealth and high social position
in which you can be an equal, finish your education
and live the remainder of your life in peace, plenty,
honor and usefulness."

"Mr. Fairbank, I will go wherever you wish to
take me."

It was decided. After four days we took the train
for Frankfort, and thence by boat to Cincinnati. There
she was educated, there she married, and has for forty-
three years filled a position of honor and usefulness in
society, and none but her husband and a few chosen
friends know that she was ever a slave, or that she has
a drop of African blood in her veins.

Her master was well-disposed. He had, just before

34 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

the sale, paid twenty thousand dollars as the price of
generosity toward an unlucky friend. It was not his
wish that she should be sold, and he came to me and
said :

"Here, Mr. Fairbank — here is one hundred dollars;
all that I have. Take seventy-five of it, save my child
if you can. Keep the money, no matter what you have
to pay for Eliza."

But no need to dwell any longer on this sale. It
was the most remarkable I ever witnessed.

William Minnis

was willed free by his master upon his death in Jessa
mine county, Kentucky, about fifteen miles from Lex
ington. He, as well as the other servants made free
by this will, was kept in entire ignorance, even by the
executor of the will, and others privy to it, whose sworn
or implied oath bound them to inform such legatees of
their right. William, knowing nothing of the law, or
the fact, raised no voice, — entered no protest, which
might have saved him and his friends indescribable
anguish, a whole year's servitude at Little Kock, Arkan
sas, where he was sold by his master's son and successor,
and his friends in Lexington, Kentucky, and Cincinnati,
Ohio, heavy expenditure and extreme peril.

Ten months had passed away since July, 1842, and

WILLIAM MINNIS. 35

Dennis Seals — I think his name was Dennis — had
brooded over the fate of a boy for whose person and
family he had cherished the most kindly attachment.
He, with Nancy Straus in the city, Father Ferril, a
minister of high repute in the city of Lexington, Henry
Boyd, William Watson, Kitty Dorum, the Morrises and
Taylors, and others in Cincinnati, Ohio, were soon in
alliance, pledged in any amount necessary for the vin
dication of the rights of this worthy young slave.

May was fairly ushered. Eliza had been duly in
ducted into her new home. Seals at once — as the boys
say — "caught on." The case of Eliza — her sale —
rescue — in Lexington at the mouth of hell, had stirred
the public, high and low, to a ferment; and my name
was in the mind and mouth of every one. Hope, glory,
and shame excited the masses — hope for the oppressed,
glory in the pluck of the man who dared, and shame
for the crime of Kentucky. Seals drank of the hope
and glory. He appeared in Cincinnati soon as we
arrived; sought me out; sought out the "sentinels;"
and all in convention, with the acquiescence and advice
of the old hero, Levi Coffin, laid a plan for the rescue.
I was summoned before the council, and approved the
plan. I was to undertake the very hazardous enter
prise.

With two hundred and fifty dollars in my hands I

36 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

bade farewell to friends, country, and life. I felt that
the chances for life and liberty were against me : to go
into wild Arkansas upon an errand of charity in behalf
of an unknown boy whose character and physique were
entirely strange to me — against a favorite idea and
institution — among a wild, half-civilized, half -barbarous
people who valued life less than money, and their social
cornerstone, — less than to brook an insult. But the
Rubicon was crossed.

I left Cincinnati on the 13th day of May, 1843, I
think, and arrived in Little Kock sometime during the
16th, and began a careful, diligent inquiry for my boy.
Every one scanned me with suspicion. There were
three classes : the ruling, upper class of whites ; the poor
"white trash," who were, morally and intellectually, on
a level with or below the slaves they watched for their
subsistence; and the slave. The whites suspected the
stranger, if he appeared at all in command of himself,
as an enemy to the "Divine Institution." The slave, as
an enemy to his race, — seeking bargains in human
property. So, I was held at arm's-length by one, and
closely, most ingeniously and treacherously interviewed
by the other. But I had been in the world too long,
and seen too much of men and things to be drawn on
and sold.

I put up at a hotel in which, after four weeks' care-

WILLIAM MINNIS. 37

ful, apparently careless, indifferent investigation I dis
covered that William was a servant, — hired out by his
master, who lived in another part of the city. I tried
all plans to learn the names of the men, and their integ
rity, that I might make some inquiry for my boy.
After about four weeks I conceived a plan to call for a
"boy" to carry my carpet-sack to the boat, to take a
short trip to the next town ; and calling one of the ser
vants, I said: "Boy, see here! take this to the boat for
me."

"Mas', dat not my work. Dat Bill's work. He do
dat are work."

Well, now, I thought, I've got so much; maybe I've
found my boy; and Dimond called out,

"Bill! see here. Dis here geman want you.

"Bill" took my bag; and all quiet, a little way
out I ventured to ask, — "What is your name?"

"William Minnis."

Now, just imagine my surprise.

"How long have you been in this city?"

"Well, massa, jis' about a year ago I lef Lexing
ton, Kentucky. I was sol' to de traider, Pullum, an'
he fotch me here an' sol' me. I belongs to Mr. Bren-
nan, an' he hires me out here at de hotel."

There! all in a lump I had the whole story.

"Did your master live in Jessamine county?"

30 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

"Yes, sir."

"He died, and his son sold you, eh?"

"Yes, sir. Did you know him?"

" Yes. William, did you know Dennis Seals, and
Nancy Straus, and Father Ferril?"

"Yes, sir."

"Did you ever know that your master willed you
free before he died? and that your young master sold
you, knowing all about it?"

" No, sir, I did not."

That quite overcame him. He panted like a scared
bird. I said to him: "Go back with my bag. I'll not
take the boat. Come to my room to-night as early as
you can safely."

After four weeks I had found out the riddle. I had
already made the acquaintance of a Creole-French
barber and a New-England teacher — a lady skilled in
portraiture. I had, after four weeks' careful, prudent,
anxious, mostly reticent inquiry, found the object of
my mission.

William Minnis was a well-developed, finely-organ
ized, smooth, handsome mulatto of eighteen, worth,
probably, in that vicinity, eight hundred dollars. I
was satisfied at once of his integrity ; and, without the
least restraint, divulged to him the whole secret. Of
course, there was the possibility of danger — of indis-

WILLIAM MINNIS. 39

creet communication, — of inconsiderate words — even of
treachery. But I could discover nothing from which I
could draw the conclusion of the faintest probability
of danger arising from either.

Now, for MY PLAN: my French-Creole I had found
voluntarily, deeply interested in the future well-being —
the oppressed side of his oppressed people. I confided
in him. I withhold his name, not from any sense of
danger to any one — not from policy, but because it was
so peculiarly French, that, though I cultivated a pleas
ant acquaintance with him for five weeks, it had evapo
rated through the law of association in five more weeks,
so that I entertained not the slightest conception of its
form.

My other assistant married and settled in Arkansas,
and, for aught I know, may be living in that vicinity
to-day — among a people to whom such antecedents
would not only not be popular, but decidedly and
dangerously unpopular.

That night William met me in my room. Our
plan, in a nut-shell, was: 1. To find a man like whom
William could be made to appear — wig, beard, mus
tache, etc. William knew a young man from up the
river, Mr. Young, with whom Mr. Brennan had formed
the slightest acquaintance, to whom, under like circum
stances — like dress, hair, beard, and mustache, he bore

40' HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

a very strong physical resemblance, — a real facsimile.

2. My Frenchman could "do him up brown" in all
that, so as to pass for Mr. Young: long black hair, a
wig, whiskers and mustache, in true Southern style.

3. My Yankee girl could bring the complexion, already
fair, to any required shade. This we decided next day.

4. A certain boat left the wharf about twilight for her
trip to Cincinnati. We must go on that — the same boat
which had just left. 5. Mr. Brennan often took this
boat for Yicksburg, where he was concerned in business.
In case of such a concurrence — the master and slave
meeting — if necessarily involving social etiquette, Mr.
Minnis must be ready to play Mr. Young.

Everything was settled as to manner. The time of
escape must be left for circumstances to decide; and
that would probably be a word and a move. My bag
was always packed after noon.

Finally, on the evening before the departure of the
boat, e'arly in July — about the fourth, — we took the risk
of our recitation, or rehearsal, in the private room of
our Frenchman, in presence of our Yankee girl. All
was most complete. Minnis presented a facsimile of
the Southerner we wished him to personate — good
height, graceful in bearing ; speech, anent-dialect.

Be it remembered, most Southern people speak with
the same provincialism — anent-dialect and tone, as

WILLIAM MINNIS. 41

the slaves who serve them; as instances, Mr. Berrien,
of Georgia, was accustomed to say "dis here," "dat ar."
Captain Newton Craig, my old prison-keeper, used
to say, "thar," for there; "/ar," for fair; "Farbank,"
for Fairbank. So, with a little training Minnis
presented a fine specimen of a Southern chevalier.
I had felt all through the day — it was the fourth of
July — that the time was imminent; that we must
be like the bird watching the approach of an enemy —

" Nor willed to go, nor dared to stay,
But, warbling mellow, sped away."

The sun had gone behind the bluff. Our boat
would be on the move in thirty minutes. The word
came to me with an impression,

" Such as a sudden passing bell
Makes, though but for a stranger's knell."

In a moment I was oft', Mr. Young (?) by my side —
gold-headed cane in hand. My bill had been settled.
Mr. Young accidentally struck my way; and in a few
minutes we were in the cabin. The Rubicon had been
crossed. Our bridges were burned behind us. It was
now, "liberty or death." There was nothing, now, to
be gained by our close, particular association .; and we
simply associated as the other passengers.

But, — Mr. Young had signified to me in an earnest
way, — betraying no trepidation noticeable by others,

42 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

1 'Mr. Brennan is on the boat." I said, apparently in a
joke, "Put on airs."

Very soon, walking at leisure in the cabin, filled
with business men and pleasure-seekers, they met —
recognized with some surprise.—

"Mr. Brennan!"

"Mr. Young!"

"Of— fine evening."

" Very, sir, very"

And the colloquy ended. The crisis had been
passed. Our plans had more than met our expectations.

We retired early ; and so avoided a second encounter,
which might possibly have resulted in harm to us both.
When morning dawned, the danger had passed. Mr.
Brennan had left the boat, taking a down-river craft for
Vicksburg.

Now, maybe all this had to be done by the instru
mentality of lies. I don't think so. It was strategy,
to^avoid injustice. That is no lie. "A lie is the mis
representation of the truth to the injury of some party
having a right to know the truth." — PKES. MAHAN.

Mr. Minnis had changed his name from William
Minnis to John Crawford, by which I knew him after
ward. We were several days reaching Cincinnati, the
boat stopping at all towns of any importance for trade.

I said, a little while ago, "the danger had passed."

WILLIAM MINNIS. 43

Often, when we think we are out of danger we are in
danger. Pullum, the slave-trader of the vicinity of
Lexington, Kentucky — whom I knew well — who had
sold Mr. Crawford (Minnis) at Little Rock, was at
Memphis, Tennessee, transacting the same class of busi
ness. That teas his only business. While we lay
there waiting the affairs of the boat he came 011 board,
and recognized me at once. We had a long and varied
talk, about everything; and especially about Little
Rock; and among other things he spoke of a "Minnis
boy whom I sold there. He had belonged to Minnis,
of Jessamine county. Did you know him?"

" Oh, yes. He is owned by Mr. Brennan — hired at
the Little Eock House. He makes a good steward."

" Yes, he's smart. I made three hundred dollars
on him."

All this time John Crawford was giving the closest
attention — heard nearly every word — walked pompously
to and fro swinging his gold-headed cane in true
Southern style.

After an hour's talk, and trepidation lest the slave-
trader might identify the gentleman once a part of his
stock in trade, the bell rang as a signal to weigh anchor,
and our unwelcome visitor, politely bowing all around,
bade us "good bye" and left the boat. We were once
more relieved.

44 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

Several times before reaching Cincinnati I recog
nized and was recognized by Kentuckians, but not
under circumstances to excite any great alarm. We
were at last safe in Cincinnati, in care of friends ; but
deeming the situation extremely dangerous, under the
Black laws of Ohio, — (though free by will, all papers
on the subject being destroyed through the treachery
of officials whose office bound them in fidelity to all
persons, he was a "niggar;" and "a black man has no
rights tvhich a white man is bound to respect. — CHIEF
JUSTICE TANEY), — Crawford took the "flood of fortune,"
and went to Canada. I saw him in Toronto in 1851.
Next year he went to California. At the outbreak of
ihe Eebellion he allied himself with the army, and,
upon the reception of the black man as a soldier,
" shouldered arms" for the Union.

CHAPTER VII.
My First Imprisonment.

T WAS passing Chapel Hall at Oberlin, Ohio, in
* August, 1844, when a call from an upper window
drew my attention.

"Brother Fairbank!"

It was John M. Brown, now Rev. John M. Brown,
D.D., a bishop in the African Methodist Episcopal
Church, and resident at Washington. The case of Gil-
son Berry, an escaped slave, whose wife and babies had
been left behind, was laid before me, as all such cases
usually were. I heard the call, espoused his cause,
and after commencement left for Lexington, Kentucky,
where I found Miss Delia A. Webster of Vergennes,
Vermont, then teaching in the city, and ready to second
my efforts. We soon found the escape of the wife
impracticable, without the combination of some other
worthy person. An appointment was made for her
rescue, but for reasons never explained to me, she did
not meet the appointment. She was probably detected,
and stopped, or so closely watched as to render her
escape dangerous, and perhaps impossible.

45

46 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

Another case came before us : that of Lewis Hayden,
now Hon. Lewis Hayden.

Mr. Hayden was a waiter at the Brennan House. To
toy question:

" Why do you want your freedom?" he replied:

"Because I'm a man."

I was deeply interested in him, and at once began
to plan a way for his escape. I went to Ripley, Ohio,
where, Dr. Blanchard of Cincinnati had informed me,
I would find friends of the fugitives ; and it was not
only to see them, but to learn the way to them, that I
took the trip.

While crossing on the ferry in the morning, from
the Kentucky side, with my horse, I noticed a man above
me, crossing in a skiff, and concluded instantly that he
would be a good source of information. It proved true.
He was Pete Driscol, a spy, a patroller, whose business
was the detection, and if possible the capture, of fugi
tive slaves. I soon met him, when the following con
versation took place :

"Mister, are you a Kentuckian?"

"Yes."

"Well, what kind of a place is this?"

"It is a black, dirty, Abolition hole, sir."

So far, so good — just what I wanted to know ; and
now how to fool him without telling an absolute lie. I

MY FIRST IMPRISONMENT. 47

must give him a false impression, so that no suspicion
would be roused.

"Is not this a great hiding place for runaway
slaves?"

"Yes."

"Well, I'm just from Lexington, and I am interested
in discovering the hiding places among the Abolition
ists."

"Well, sir, you see that red house there? "

"Yes."

"There Eli C. Collins lives; and in that house Levi
Collins lives ; and Dr. Eankin occupies the one on the
hill."

I went to Collins', as directed by my Kentuckian, and
as he advised me to pass for a good Abolitionist I did
so. I also went to Dr. Rankin's; but while I was on
my way to his house, the people, having seen me with
Pete Driscol, set me down as a slave-hunter, and sent
young Collins ahead of me, to put the family on their
guard. So I learned nothing there, and supposed that
I had been wrongly advised. I returned to Mr.
Eli C. Collins' ; was invited to dine ; was at the table,
when young Collins came in, and with fury in his man
ner, ordered me to leave the house — that I was a spy,
a slave-hunter. He was plucky, but I finished my
dinner, and .afterward tried to convince them of my

48 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

oneness with them in the cause. And all the time Eli
Collins advised the largest charity.

"Maybe he is a friend. We will see when the time
comes."

I then said: "I like your zeal in this cause, even
though it makes you reluctant to believe in me."

It was altogether an unpleasant experience, for I
came near being mobbed by the girls of a hotel, and
others gathered there to talk over the case, and only
escaped by hastening away from the house.

On Saturday, the 28th day of September, 1844, at
eight P. M., in company with Miss Webster, and the
Haydens, father, mother, and one son, I started from
Lexington for Ohio, with hack and driver (a slave).
The boy, in times of danger, was stowed away under
the seat of his father and mother, and they acted as
servants, or passed as white lady and gentleman, veiled
and cloaked, as occasion required. At Millersburg,
twenty-four miles out from Lexington, we lost a horse
from bots, stood an hour and a half in the street, took
refreshments, played Yankee, changed horses, escaped
by strategy, crossed the Ohio river at nine o'clock
in the morning in great danger, changed teams two
miles out in Ohio, passed through Eipley, and back
four miles to Hopkins', where I left the Hay den family.
Then I returned to Eli C. Collins' at Bipley, where I

MY FIRST IMPRISONMENT. 49

had left Miss Webster, and with her returned to Ken
tucky, resting at "Washington, four miles south of
Maysville. This town is on the Ohio river, about
sixty miles from Cincinnati, and sixty-four miles from
Lexington, and Hopkins' is fourteen miles beyond,
making seventy-eight miles. At Millersburg we were
met, and followed closely into Lexington, so that there
was no escape; and after making a hundred and fifty-
six miles in forty-eight hours, we were driven to the
jail, on Monday evening at eight o'clock, to await the
result.

I had, in my trepidation, retained on my person a
letter signed "Frater," addressed to parties in Oberlin,
not in my writing, which was the only testimony that
could be brought against either Miss Webster, or my
self. Three indictments were found against us, suffi
cient to imprison us for sixty years. We employed
Sam Shy and Leslie Coombs as our attorneys; then, in
order to work to better advantage, we had the cases
separated, upon the plea, in behalf of Miss Webster,
that my case being tried upon the same indictment
with hers, what was evidence against me would be
evidence against her and therefore prejudicial to her
case.

Miss Webster's father, Benaiah Webster, came on
from Vermont, and every influence to be commanded

50 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

was brought into requisition for her acquittal ; but she
was tried and sentenced for two years, upon the strength
of that letter found on my person. Mark this, so that
when you come to my trial in Louisville before Judge
Bullock, in February, 1852, you can see how much
liberty courts use in interpreting common law.

The jail was constantly filled with slaves brought
In for sale, and often visited by buyers from the sur
rounding country, and from New Orleans, for that
market. There were also in the jail Kobert Bartley, of
South Carolina, convicted of counterfeiting; Jerry
\IBran, a slave, who had attempted to escape, had got
into Ohio, was captured, brought back, and put in jail
-for sale; John Minnis, sent to jail on suspicion of
longing for freedom ; and Richard Moore, sentenced to
loe hanged for breaking the neck of his brutal mistress,
who had abused him in ways too vile to be spoken of in
these pages.

I had relinquished all hope of acquittal ; for though
no legitimate testimony could be brought against me, I
realized from Miss Webster's case, that any testimony,
however slight or indirect, would be used in favor of
slavery, and for the punishment of those working
against it. So I began to look about for a way of
escape.

Years before, some prisoners had broken through

MY FIRST IMPRISONMENT. 51

the wall on the north side of the jail-yard, and escaped,
and the county had put oak planks over the break — after
replacing the stones without mortar — and fastened
these planks with iron bars running through from one
side to the other. The planks had become warped, and
cracked, and I found that by working them up and
down, I could break the iron bars. Then the planks
•could be removed, then the stone, so that whoever
wanted to escape, could do so.

I was in stiff irons, weighing twenty-four pounds,
and twenty-four inches long. The time for escape was
fixed for the first Sunday in November. Bran went out
at the breakfast hour, broke the bars, took off the planks,
pulled out some stones, then replaced it all again, until
dinner time, when Bartley, Bran, Minnis, and two other
slaves, escaped, and had been gone an hour before it
was known. Two of them I heard nothing from, but
Bartley escaped, Minnis went back to his mistress, and
Bran wrote, soon after, that he was earning a dollar
and a half a day, smoking Spanish cigars at night, and
no master to thank for it all.

After they were gone, Kichard secured two of the
bars from the wall, and hid them in the stove-pipe pro
jecting from our window, so that if we should need
them when our turn came to try and escape, they would
be on hand. Very soon we made an attempt to break

52 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

jail. Night fell, we commenced. It was Tuesday
night, and Eichard was to be executed on Friday. All
night we labored, sometimes together, sometimes sepa
rately, standing on stools, the heavy irons on my
ankles cutting cruelly into the flesh; but five o'clock
struck, morning had come, and found us still there.
" Death struck, I ceased the tide to stem."

Eichard fell despairingly upon the floor. "Oh!
I'm a dead man!"

My hands, in the palms, were worn deep into the
flesh, and bleeding; my beard was filled with dry lime
mortar ; my hair like the brush of a sweep. I was a
frightful sight. When the jailor came in, he looked
around in amazement.

"Who did this?"

"Dick and I."

"I'll fix you for slow traveling," he said grimly;
and we were then handcuffed together, day and night,
until a short time before Dick was taken out for execu
tion. His peace was fully made with God. The morn
ing of the execution, when the military arrived, and
the door swung open, we were found on our knees,
commending that soul to Him who had given it, and
the armed men stood silent and awestruck in the pres
ence of Jehovah, and the pleading dying man. He
finished his course in peace.

MY FIRST IMPRISONMENT. 53

I had petitioned the legislature and obtained the
passage of a bill giving me a change of venue to Paris,
Bourbon county; but the governor, William Owsley,
having been petitioned for Miss Webster's release, and
refusing to grant her pardon until I came to trial, I
waived my claim, instructed His Excellency not to
make it a law by fixing his signature, and went at once
to trial, pleaded not guilty, selected a jury, then
changing my plea, pleaded guilty by Kentucky statutes,
and argued my own case.

In my plea to the jury I said : "Gentlemen of the
jury, 'but for the grace of God there goes John Bun-
yan.' Had I been born and educated here, I might
have been as you are. But thank God I am what I
am, and I would that ye all were as I am, except these
bonds. Your Honor, and gentlemen of the jury, are
you aware that by the strict rules of legal interpre
tation you have no legal slavery? that there is not a
slave legally held in the United States of America?
There is not a state in the Union in which slavery
exists by positive law."

But I was convicted, and my punishment fixed at
fifteen years in the Kentucky penitentiary at Frankfort,
at hard labor. I was conveyed there on the 18th day
of February, 1845, my head shaven close, I dressed in
stripes and put to sawing stone.

CHAPTEE VIII.
My Incarceration.

CAPTAIN NEWTON CKAIG, the warden, was very
considerate of me, treated roe much better than I
had expected he would, giving me a choice of labor,
and in many other ways treating me with respect. He
was a man of large self-esteem, courted the regard of
wise people, thought well of Yankee excellence, and
therefore bent his energies to signalize his magnanim
ity in our case. I selected shoemaking as my work,
and labored at the trade for about three years. But
my sedentary life, my worry and dissatisfaction with
imprisonment, and the poor food — old, fat, greasy bacon
— and the bad air in the cell where I slept every night,
soon undermined my health. Dyspepsia fastened upon
me, and I was changed to the hospital as steward.
Sometimes I went into the cooper-shop, and sometimes
at other work favoring proper exercise.

During this imprisonment I was supplied with
money by James Canning Fuller, of New York, when
ever I wrote for it, and after his death, by his widow,
Lydia Fuller, and other friends and relatives. Mr.

54

MY INCARCERATION. 55

Hayden of Boston had been active in enlisting sympa
thy in my behalf, in and about Boston. Captain New
ton Craig was in correspondence with gentlemen and
ladies in Boston of such a nature as to conciliate his
dissatisfied mind and temper, and promise some remu
neration to the parties claiming redress for the loss of
their slaves. Benjamin Howard, Francis Jackson, and
Ellis Gray Loring, were parties on each side to pay and
receive a stipulated sum — six hundred dollars — when
ever my release should be certified to by myself in
Ohio.

At the same time that these measures were in con
templation, my father was also in correspondence with
Captain Craig, and securing petitions from the people
of Allegany and Wyoming counties, and in other ways
arranging his affairs so as to be able to leave home and
come to my relief. He arrived in Frankfort April 5th,
1849, leaving my mother and sisters in my brother's
care. I had been a little over four years in the prison,
and had won the respect of the citizens of Kentucky by
my prudent behavior, and there was a strong sentiment
in favor of my liberation.

Upon my father's arrival in Kentucky with large
petitions from Allegany and Wyoming counties, New
York, he very easily obtained Governor Crittenden's
promise to grant my pardon as soon as a petition from

56 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

Lexington with the names of Judge Buckner, Common
wealth-Attorney Eobinson, the jury, the claimants of
the slaves, and Hon. Henry Clay could be secured.
This was accomplished early in June. But now some
thing else interfered. The question of emancipation
was to come before the people in the August election.
The question was not, "Shall the constitution be
changed by convention?" but, whether anti-slavery or
pro-slavery men should sit in the convention. The
Governor made the plea that he feared my pardon at
that time would prejudice the election, and decided to
wait until after the election was over.

Cholera was raging at that time, and carrying off
the people in great numbers. My father was unaccli-
mated, and Captain Craig and I urged him to leave the
state, to go home, and protect himself from the terrible
epidemic. But no persuasions could induce him to
leave me in my sore strait. He went to Lexington, en
larged the petition, was attacked by cholera, recovered
apparently, relapsed, and died Saturday night, July 7th,
1849, and was buried by and among strangers.

o

CHAPTEE IX.
Pardoned by Governor John J. Crittenden.

N the twenty-third of August, 1849, after an impris
onment of four years, ten months and twenty-four S

days, I received my pardon. All my savings were
gone, and I was somewhat broken in health. On the
24th I left for Madison, Indiana, where I obtained
lodgings with Wright Ray, the famous slavehunter of
that section. It was the first comfortable night's rest
for near five years.

In this chapter I shall give some incidents of my
jail life, before finally closing its account. While I
was in prison, there sprang up, through my influence,
and that of others, a lively interest in religion. We
.had Sunday-schools and prayer-meetings, and I often
preached to the prisoners, and others who came in out
of curiosity. I had a friend in a young Baptist minis
ter in Western New York — Isaac Wade — who came to
see me, and soon published letters stating what I had
told him of our school. Upon this, Rev. William Buck,
a Baptist minister from Louisville, called upon me in
the presence of Captain Craig, who was also a Baptist,

58 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

to know of its truth. He seemed astonished, and wished
me to explain how I justified myself, being also a
prisoner. I did so in a letter as follows:

"First — Paul preached in prison, in which he had
been confined for violation of law. Why not I ? Second
— The prisoners wanted instruction and encouragement.
Third — That neither the verdict of men, nor the limit
ation of walls, could in anywise change the need, power
and application of the Gospel. Fourth — If a prisoner
may enjoy, he may also teach the Gospel, and I am a
child of the King."

Early in my imprisonment, a very nice, well-formed
boy of fifteen was sent to the prison for stealing a
horse-blanket. Captain Craig, confiding in my integ
rity, and taking a liking to the lad, committed him to
my keeping, as my pupil, ward, and room-mate. I took
him, taught and guided him for six months. One day
Governor William Owsley was in the staveshop. I
spoke with him, and as he left, I followed him out, and
said :

" Governor, if you can find cause to send that boy
home, you will confer a great blessing on him, his-
mother, the community, the state, and the world.
Every such thing counts. He has had lesson enough p
any longer imprisonment will spoil him."

The boy was pardoned the next week.

PARDONED BY GOVERNOR CRITTENDEN. 59

William Driver was the next one committed to my
care, in the spring of 1849, and was my room-mate up
to the day of my liberation. When I left, I promised
to do my utmost for his release, and wrote a petition
to Governor Crittenden, and sent it to the boy's mother,
with a letter to this effect:

" I was a prisoner with your son. After reading
this letter, destroy it, and don't let any one know who
wrote this petition, but get the judge, the common
wealth-attorney, the sheriff, and the jury to sign it,
then as many more as you can, and go to Governor
Crittenden with it, and he will pardon your boy."

She followed my instructions, and in two weeks her
son was pardoned, and free. So ends the story of my
first imprisonment and pardon.

CHAPTER X.
Among Old Friends.

T MADE my way to Cincinnati, and sought out my
-•• old comrades in the holy work for humanity
against oppression. But I must state here that the
extraordinary fact of my imprisonment for an act of
charity, the death of my father as a sacrifice to the
ambition of the state executive, and the spleen of an
inglorious public, had awakened a desire everywhere
to hear from my own lips an account of what I had
suffered.

In Cincinnati I was welcomed by Levi and Catharine
Coffin, William Watson, Henry Boyd, Mr. Burnett,
Samuel Lewis, S. P. Chase, and others, and I found an
addition to the "Old Guard"— Laura S. Haviland. I
had never met Mrs. Haviland before, though I had been
familiar with her benevolent habits, her labors of love
for the human race, her impartiality to all needy, with
out regard to color, descent, or sex. Levi and Catharine
Coffin had already distinguished themselves as real, as
well as denominational "Friends," for they were born
and brought up in that most excellent class of people

60

AMONG OLD FRIENDS. 61.

called "Friend-Quakers." So was Laura Haviland ; but
she finally, in order to be more useful to the human
race, united with the "Wesleyan Methodists, laid all she
was and all she had upon the altar for the elevation
of mankind. She, with her husband, and her brother
Harvey Smith, built houses, hired teachers, gave time,
land and money to the poor and needy.

Levi Coffin had become so noted as a friend of the
slave, that whenever a fugitive could be traced into his
vicinity, it was considered that his house was the re
treat necessary to be searched. At one time, while they
lived in Indiana, two little girls were brought to them
and were pursued. There was always a watch kept, a
picket-guard, and no unfriendly eye could look through
the line without an alarm. The pickets gave the sig
nal, and the girls were hidden between a feather bed
and a mattress. While the pursuers were watching the
house, the little fugitives were so amused at their queer
hiding-place, that they giggled and laughed so loud, it
would have been quite dangerous had their master
come near. Mrs. Coffin had to scold them severely,
threatening them with a stick. The master with his
assistant finally came and asked permission to look
through the house, which they did, finding nothing of
the girls. "Aunt Katie" was their pilot, directing them
everywhere through the house.

62 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

"Here, thee has not seen in this room. Thee wants
to look sharp. Is there any other place thee wants to
see?"

After they had given up the hunt in despair, the
master said:

"I'd like to know where all the niggers go to, when
they get to old Coffin's. That old Quaker must have an
underground railroad, for once a slave gets here, he
is never seen again."

Previous to 1849, Levi had been twice or three
times burned out, his home set on fire by the slave
holder or his emissaries, and he had now settled perma
nently in Cincinnati.

Salmon P. Chase had been elected United States
Senator by the Ohio legislature of 1848-49. As I
understood the history of political affairs, the old
Whig and Democratic parties were evenly divided.
Mr. Morse (I do not remember from what county he
was sent) and Dr. Townshend of Loraine county, were
elected as Free-Soilers, and knew they could hold both
parties in their hands. But being Whigs originally,
they were really more in sympathy with that party.
Several vacancies in the Ohio judiciary were to be filled,
and a United States senator elected. Townshend and
Morse (being in harmony with the Whigs) said to the
Democrats :

AMONG OLD FRIENDS. 63

"You give us Salmon P. Chase as senator in Con
gress, then we will give you the judges."

It was done, and Salmon P. Chase became one of
the leading spirits of the Nation.

A revival was in progress in the Wesleyan church
,at Cincinnati, and I entered into the work, preached,
visited, and put myself alongside the people, regardless
of color, position or race, and thereby won confidence
in many timid ones toward God and the religion of
His Son Jesus Christ. After this I visited Oberlin
and found many changes. Eev. Asa Mahan, owing
to his opposition to the use of works of heathen
authors as text books, and perhaps his Arminiad views,
and other facts, had left the college presidency. At
one time, his opposition to the use of heathen authors
was so intense that many of the young men piled their
books on the Tappan Hall square, and burned them.

I next visited Cleveland, giving there my experi
ences among the slave-holders; then went on to Detroit.
At this place I met many heroes in the anti-slavery
struggle; among them the young hero George D.
Baptist, an Africo-American, a very zealous defender of
the faith. In one of my meetings, after I had spoken to
a crowded house, he arose, and said:

"Mr. Chairman, we want money now, and we want
it for Brother Fair bank." Then beckoning to a

64 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

family near him, he said: "Look here, Brother Fair-
bank, do you know this crowd?"

It was Coleman and his family, the man I had led
through the woods and across the Ohio river in 1841.
There were Coleman, his wife, the three children we
had taken by night to the "promised land," and three
more, born on free soil. I went home with them,
and found them all well provided for, well schooled in
letters and religion. Coleman wras industrious and
frugal. I stayed with them several days, and was much
impressed by his economy and prudence. He often
worked all day and half the night, and in the years of
his freedom had accumulated a handsome little property.
He owned the house in which he lived, had two to rent,
and his home was the home of the minister, and his
hand full of supply.

Sandusky was my next stopping-place after leaving
Detroit. I had been invited to speak at Chicago, but I
declined. At Sandusky I made the acquaintance of
Hon. Mr. Parish, who, being a prominent lawyer and
having the courage to take up the cause of the slave,
was watched, and every legal or illegal advantage
taken of him, involving him in suits in court which
quite bankrupted him.

While I was there, six fugitives in the city were
hotly pursued. Father Jennings and I, with other

AMONG OLD FRIENDS. 65

help, induced the captain of a small steamer to take
them on board and land them in Canada. We also
sent a competent business man to look after their settle
ment. They had with them about twelve hundred
dollars in gold. How they got it I did not inquire.

Thirty minutes after they left, the hunters came on
with their hired posse, savage enough for any barbarity,
and asked :

"Have you seen any niggers about here?"

"Oh, there are plenty of people about here. What
kind of people are these niggers you want to find?
There are white niggers, black niggers, and yellow
niggers, — all kinds, about here."

"Well, there are six niggers of mine about town
somewhere, and I reckoned they would come here to
take a boat."

" Oh, there were a man, his wife and four children,
two boys and two girls, all quite light-colored, here
about thirty minutes ago. I think they must be the
persons you want ; and if you can hire a skiff or a fast
boat, or if you can run on the water, you might over
take them. Do you see that boat yonder on the lake ?
There they go, and I think they are out of your reach,
and will soon be safe in Canada."

Father Jennings smiled triumphantly, and the dis-

5

66 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

appointed, enraged hunter, cursed and threatened until
I said :

"Do you see that stone palace up there?" pointing
to a building in the distance. "That is the jail and
you'd better be careful what you do and say." And
he had the wisdom to take his leave.

At Buffalo I became acquainted with Abner H.
Francis, who was at some time near that date the
Liberty party candidate for vice-president, James G.
Birney being the candidate for president.

I next visited my mother and family, whom my
father had removed to Little Genesee, New York, and
left in my brother's care before he took his departure
to Kentucky. "For," said he, "I may never return."
Which was the sad truth. He did not return.
Two Anti-Slavery Parties.

After a few days spent among the happy, hearty,
liberty-loving Christians in grand old Allegany county,
New York, I bent my way to Pike, Wyoming county,
about fifty miles north, where I was born. From there
I went on my way to Boston, stopping a week to attend
the convention of two parties at Syracuse. There were
in the North, two anti-slavery parties. The Liberty
party was under the lead of Gerrit Smith; the Garri
son school, or the American Anti- Slavery society, was
in the main under the lead of William Lloyd Garrison,

TWO ANTI-SLAVERY PARTIES. 67

editor of the "Liberator" at Boston, though it was
difficult to determine whether he or Wendell Phillips
did the most leading. They held the constitution of
the United States to be pro-slavery, because it was so
understood at its formation in 1777; that the Supreme
Court of the United States so interpreted it ; and as the
constitution itself provided that the interpretation of
that court should fix its character, it was really a part
of the instrument, and they refused to vote.

The Liberty party, led by Gerrit Smith, held the \
constitution to be anti-slavery, because the word slave,
or involuntary servant, or servitude, could not be found
in it; that "where rights are infringed, where funda
mental principles are overthrown, where the general
system of the laws is departed from, the legislative in
tention must be expressed with irresistible clearness, in
order to induce a court of justice to suppose a design
to effect such object." There being no such expression
in the instrument, the words "All other persons," and
"persons held to service, or labor," could not, under the
rule of interpretation, be tortured into such a meaning;
no interpretation could make it pro-slavery ; that it was
clearly and positively anti-slavery. -

Here were Mr. Garrison, Wendell Phillips, Stephen
and Abby Kelly Foster, Charles Burleigh and Parker
Pillsbury on one side, and Gerrit Smith, Samuel R.

68 flOW ^THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

Ward — a black man — an ex-slave, and editor of " Im
partial citizen" —Fred Douglass, Revs. Pryne, Asa
Wing, and James C. Jackson on the other.

This was the most exciting and instructive conven
tion of my life; for while all acted in harmony against
the pro-slavery idea, every argument and art of learn
ing was put in requisition by the strongest, most
learned and thoroughly-read men and women in the
land. And such earnestness! Often the audience
would be held entranced and excited to the highest
pitch, until one o'clock in the morning. Then after
seven hours' partial rest, the same auditors would again
fill the immense hall at eight next morning, to adjourn
only one hour for dinner and one hour for supper. So
through the first week of January, 1850.

Mr. Garrison and Mr. Smith were both large-
minded, cultured men. Mr. Garrison was about six
feet in height, full and round in body, with a large,
bold, honest face, and mouth and eyes finely expressive
of earnest purpose and determination. His arguments
were strong, to the point, and without any flowery
rhetoric. Mr. Pillsbury was of medium height, of
dark complexion, and spoke moderately and distinctly,
cutting like an old kitchen knife, rough and deep. He
was one of the most severe, bitter, sarcastic debaters I
ever knew. Discussing some point, I said:

TWO ANTI-SLAVERY PARTIES. 69

" You don't believe in the Apostle Paul."

Said he: "Who is the Apostle Paul? I'm an
Apostle."

Next day, Samuel E. Ward, the black orator, editor
and preacher, debating some point, said:

"The Apostle Paul thinks Christ to be the Son of
God. The Apostle Parker thinks differently."

Wendell Phillips was tall and symmetrical, with a
beautiful face, and a silver-toned voice in which he
uttered the most severe things, clothed in the most
fascinating language, quoted the most learned authors,
and applied his declarations, whether quoted or origi
nal, in a way that, while they charmed, they destroyed.
However much people might differ with him, or even
hate him for his sentiments, his style and strength of
argument held them for hours together, irresistibly
spellbound.

Gerrit Smith was unlike any of these I have men
tioned. He was of Mr. Garrison's height, slightly
corpulent, and had a florid complexion. He wore the
finest broadcloth trimmed with gold buttons. He
dressed his neck in easy fashion, with a loose, low,
wide collar, turned down over a narrow tie or ribbon.
In his argument he dealt in law and gospel, ancient and
modern lore, enforced with that ease of delivery, and
in a smooth, sonorous voice which made him one of the

70 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

first orators of the day. To say that either Gerrit
Smith or Wendell Phillips was best, would be to risk a
good deal. They were not alike, and yet the world
will wait awhile for two more such mighty men in
speech.

Samuel R. Ward was black, six and a half feet high,
and always ready in speech; and Fred Douglass was a
tornado in a forest.

After the adjournment of this convention, wliich
was held for the purpose of comparing views, and con
vincing one another, I went to Gerrit Smith's at
Peterboro, New York, a few miles south of Utica,
where I spent a few days with pleasure and profit.
While there, some one asked him:

"Mr. Smith, how do your finances come out this
year?"

"Well," wTas the characteristic reply, "I have paid
the Astor debt, two hundred thousand dollars, given
away two hundred thousand, and am now two hundred
thousand richer than last year."

The Fugitive-Slave Law.

About this time, Henry Clay presented a bill before
the United States Senate providing for the return of
fugitive slaves, which sifted and tried the mettle of the
Nation and wrought up to intense heat the zeal of the

THE FUGITIVE-SLAVE LAW. 71

people on both sides. Daniel Webster sided with
the South and the Democracy of the North in its favor.
On the 7th of March, 1850, in the United States Sen
ate, he made that memorable speech which killed him
politically, and finally physically.

Gerrit Smith had made preparations to address the
New York Legislature at Albany, on the subject, and
soon after the 7th of March he went before the two
Houses in the Representative Chamber and delivered
one of the most effective and powerful speeches ever
heard in that city, against the measure advocated by
Clay, and supported by Webster. I shall never forget
how he looked when he said:

"Gentlemen, will you heed this warning? You
will, when the iron pierces your heart."

I went on to Boston, in March, and was the guest
of the Haydens for the season, visiting, at times, differ
ent parts of the state, where I was invariably received
with enthusiasm by all unbiased anti-slavery people,
and by many Webster Whigs.

The Legislature of Massachusetts soon took up Mr.
Webster's case, censuring him by a handsome majority.
In that discussion I first saw Henry Wilson. He was
against Mr. Webster, and poured out denunciation
against the " Doughfaces with their ears and eyes
filled with cotton."

72 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

Then Moses Stuart wrote a pamphlet in justification
of Mr. Webster — "Conscience and Constitution," which
was read and commented on throughout the country.
This called out from John G. Whittier the famous
poem —

•"Conscience and Constitution."

Scarce had the solemn Sabbath bell
Ceased quivering in the steeple, —

Scarce had the parson to his desk
Walked stately through his people,

f

When down the summer-shaded street

A wasted female figure,
With dusty brow and naked feet,
Came rushing, wild and eager!

She saw the white spire through the trees,
She heard the sweet hymn swelling; —

O, pitying Christ! a refuge give
This poor one in Thy dwelling!

Like a scared fawn before the hounds,

Straight up the aisle she glided,
When close behind her, whip in hand,

A lank hired hunter strided.

She raised a keen and bitter cry,
To heaven and earth appealing: —

Were manhood's generous pulses dry?
Had woman's heart no feeling?

"CONSCIENCE AND CONSTITUTION." 73

A score of stout hands raised between

The hunter and the flying: —
Age clenched his staff, and maiden eye

Flashed tearful, yet defying.

"Who dare profane this house and day?"

Cried out the angry pastor.
"Why, bless your soul! the wench's a slave;

And I'm her lord and master.

"I've law and Gospel on my side;

And who shall dare refuse me ? "
Down came the parson, bowing low —
" My good sir, pray excuse me!

" Of course I own your right divine
To work, and sell, and whip her.
Quick! deacon, drop the Polyglot
Before the wonch, and trip her."

Plump dropped the holy tome; and o'er

Its sacred pages stumbling,
Bound hand and foot, a slave once more,

The hapless wretch lay trembling.

I saw the parson tie the knot,

The while his flock addressing,
The scriptural claims of slavery

With text on text impressing.

* Although," said he, " on Sabbath day

All secular occupations
Are deadly sins, we must fulfil
Our moral obligations.

74 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

"And this commends itself as one,

To every conscience tender;
As Paul sent back Onesimus,

My Christian friends, we send her."

Shriek rose on shriek; — the Sabbath air
Her wild cries tore asunder :—

I listened with hushed breath to hear
God answer with his thunder.

All still — the very altar cloths

Had smothered down her shrieking,

As pale she turned from face to face,
For human pity seeking.

"Is this the end — is this," I cried,

"The end of prayer and preaching?
Then down with pulpit; down with priest;
And give us nature's teaching!

"Foul shame and scorn be on you all

Who turn the good to evil,
And steal the Bible from the Lord,
And give it to the Devil!"

Just then I felt the deacon's hand
In wrath my coat-tail seize on ;

I heard the priest cry "Infidel!"—
The lawyer mutter "Treason! "

And there upon the window-sill,

O'er which the white blooms drifted,

The pages of a good old book
The winds of summer lifted.

"CONSCIENCE AND CONSTITUTION." 75

And there upon the cherry bough

Above the casement swinging, .
With golden bosom to the sun

The oriole was singing.

As bird and flower made plain of old

The lesson of the teacher,
So now I heard God's written word

Interpreted by nature.

I woke; and lo, the fitting cause
Of all my dreams' vagaries: —
Two bulky pamphlets: Webster's text,
And Stuart's Commentaries.

This poem was hawked about everywhere by all
the newsboys, hung in all the news windows, distributed
and read at all the Anti-Slavery gatherings. In June
Webster appeared in the front porch o£ the Eevere
House in Boston, and attempted in a speech to teach
New England her constitutional duties, how to conquer
her prejudices, — looking through the moral and politi
cal confusion of the present to a calm political future
in which law and order should reign through the sur
render of the distinctly avowed purpose to "protect
life, liberty and property." And here, on a drizzling
June day, he repeated the lesson delivered on the 7th
of March in the United States Senate Chamber, — "You
must conquer your prejudices.'

76 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

It was soon after this that Mr. Seward offered that
amendment to the Fugitive- Slave Law, supported by
Hale, Chase, Wade, and Tom Benton, and in the House
by Mann, Giddings, Thad. Stevens and others ; and Pratt
of Maryland made his memorable reply mentioned in
a former chapter. Horace Mann in the House said:

" Given, the height at which the whip shall fall
from the driver's hand, or the shackle from the slave."

These became the watchwords on every loyal
tongue, the alarm rung on the ear of every public
gathering.

Wendell Phillips, in the convention at Worcester,
while discussing the position of Moses Stuart, President
at Andover, and a leader of the church, said:

"What is the Church? It is a weather-cock. What
is the pulpit? It is what the pews make it."

John Milton Earle, State Senator from the Wor
cester district, and a Quaker, said:

" When it comes to that point — when we are
required, not to merely stand and see humanity out
raged, but to assist in the outrage, we must resist."

Stephen Foster asked: "But, Milton, thee won't
fight, will thee?"

"Yes, fight! fight! We must fight, for resistance
to tyrants is obedience to God."

CHAPTER XI.
The Fugitive-Slave Law Passed.

infamous act known as the Fugitive-Slave
•** Law had passed the United States Senate; and
coming before the House was forced to its third read
ing, and without any deliberation, after taking its last
form, by an evident pre-arrangement with the Speaker,
Howell Cobb, was hurried through upon the "previous
question," moved by Hon. M. Thompson, a Democrat
from Erie, Pennsylvania, September 12th. It was signed
on the 18th by President Fillmore, and became a law
of the land. I quote from Kinley's "American Con
flict" : "When the bill was reached in the Lower House,
Judge Thompson, a Democrat from Erie, Pennsylvania,
obtained the floor — doubtless by pre-arrangement with
the Speaker, Howell Cobb, and spoke in favor of the
measure as just and necessary, closing by a demand for
the 'previous question'" ; and the bill finally passed
with every member from the slave states, and twenty-
eight Democrats and three Whigs from the free states
in its favor. The three Whigs from the free states were
Samuel A. Elliott of Massachusetts, John L. Taylor of

77

78 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

Ohio, and Edward McGaughey of Indiana. In the
Senate the vote stood twenty-seven for, and twelve
against it, with twenty- one absentees. The most infa
mous feature of this law was the law; and next to it,
was the provision that whether he or she be free born,
set free by deed, — white or black — never more exalted
and honorable, if any one swears to him or her as held
to service or labor, and having escaped, there was no
redress, even by habeas corpus, in him or herself.

The Fugitive-Slave Law of 1850 stood upon the
books of the Nation as the law of the land until 1864.
A bill for its repeal had passed the Senate, but failed
in the House, as I understand it, before the Congress
of 1863-64— during 1863; James M. Ashley of Toledo,
Ohio, voting in the affirmative, with the minority.
Then seeing the necessity of a reconsideration — know
ing that, by a rule in the House, he who moves a recon
sideration must have voted with the majority, obtained
leave, and changed his vote to the negative — with the
majority. Then, in the spring of 1864, moved to
reconsider, and secured a majority in favor of repeal;
and thus, by one of the most adroit strokes — a coup de
maitre of statesmanship, wiped out the foulest blot upon
the Nation's escutcheon. I had fought this through
the summer of 1850, and continued to resist it after its
enactment as far as possible with any show of safety.

MARRIAGE OF WILLIAM AND ELLEN CRAFT. 79

William and Ellen Craft had taken refuge in
Boston with Mr. and Mrs. Hayden. Mr. Craft was of
pure blood; Mrs. Craft was just a dark-skinned white
woman, though of African extraction. Legal advice
induced the conclusion that protection on British soil
was more secure than in America. A meeting of tried
friends had been called - - Wendell Phillips, Charles
Sumner, Ralph Waldo Emerson, Henry Wilson,
William Lloyd Garrison and Theodore Parker were
there.

Lewis Hayden, unconscious of who were present,
having in his mind only the rescue of his friends, rose
and began to speak with his whole soul, and was just
pouring out one of his most fervid strains of native
eloquence, when, turning toward another portion of his
audience, he saw those notable, noble men, embodying
the lore and wisdom of the Bay State, and sank into his
seat abashed and silent. Then Wendell Phillips, fol
lowed in turn by all the other great lights of the time,
made the occasion one of the most extraordinary in my
memory. A large sum of money was raised, and it was
then decided that at the house of Lewis Hayden, next
morning, Kev. Theodore Parker would solemnize the
marriage of William and Ellen Craft.

It was done ; and Mr. Parker then taking from his
pocket a Bible, and handing it to Mr. Craft, said: "Will-

80 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

iam, take that, and make it the man of your counsel."
Then, drawing a poniard of fearful length and propor
tions, and holding it by the shining blade, extending
to him the hilt, said: "Take this, and defend your
wife."

The nuptials completed, William and Ellen took
train for Halifax, whence they sailed for England, and
there remained until the death of slavery in America.
Mr. Craft enjoyed the confidence of the British Govern
ment and her patronage during a number of years,
filling important missions to states of Africa; returning
to the United States and his old home in Georgia after
the settlement of peace, and the question which kept so
many pale during their lives. Since his return he has
built dwelling-houses on his own land for the free
people of his race, and school-houses for the education
of their children.

William L. Chaplin, a lawyer, and the editor of a
paper, had, while at Washington, become interested in
two slaves, the body-servants of Toombs and Stephens
of Georgia, and in obedience to his sympathies gave
them the hand of charity in violation of law, was
apprehended and thrown into jail in Washington, and
his bail fixed at six thousand dollars. Remembering
them that are in bonds as bound with them, and how
much I wanted help under the same circumstances, I

FILLMORE AND HIS CABINET. 81

volunteered my services and helped to raise his bail,
which was forfeited, and he released. I returned to
Bolivar, Allegany county, New York,* in the spring of
1851; at that place Rev. Gilbert De LaMatyr was
pastor of the M. E. Church. I preached several times
in his pulpit, and with his support was successful in
securing the M. E. Church for my warfare against the
Fugitive-Slave Law. We had secured the church from
the proper authorities for a week, — I mean six nights
and days. On the fourth night I was dealing with this
infamous law, without bringing Mr. Fillmore or his
Cabinet forward as responsible, simply because I knew
very well that that would stir up opposition, when an
official of the church, now living at Bolivar, rose and
asked :

"What do you say of Fillmore and his cabinet?"

"I have not come here to talk about Fillmore and
his Cabinet, or any other responsible party, but about
the diabolical character and dangerous disposition of
the law in question."

"But we want to hear about it"

"Well, I am not inclined to talk about it."

* But you must."

-But I won't."

" This is our house, and we have some right here to
say what you shall talk about."

82 HOW ''THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

"This is not your house. It is my house until
Saturday night at ten o'clock, and I'll not be fright
ened to talk."

Finally, upon the suggestion of Mr. De LaMatyr,
I said: "Well, if you are anxious to hear my sentiments
on President Fillmore and his Cabinet, they are a
brotherhood of thieves." And the doctor hunched me.
"Give it to them! I'll stand by you."
"This Church endorses Fillmore and his cabinet."
"Well, this Church is a den of thieves."
Then the doctor again — "Give it to them!"
"I am an officer of this Church, and I endorse Fill-
more and his Cabinet.'

" Well, then, you are one of the thieves. How do
you like that?"

And the doctor again — "Stand up to them!"
Then the mob — "eggs! — eggs! — eggs!" swelled the
chorus, when about a dozen gentlewomen and three or
four gentlemen sprang from their seats and surrounded
the altar ; and two or three gentlewomen and girls who
could not get out from their pews soon enough, being
obstructed by roughs on the other side, sprang right
over the tops of the seats in front of them, and even
over the heads of their occupants, like so many cha-
inois, shouting "Come down here! Comedown here!"
And the leading spirit among the heroines shouted,

"LIBERTY PARTY" CONVENTION. 83

" Now throw your eggs if you dare!" But I finished
up my week's work with but little more molestation.

Such was the public sentiment then; and such the
warfare we had to sustain against the foes of impartial
justice. But, in 1856, public sentiment had changed,
and I received from these parties assurance of their
approval of my course.

In June following, we held a convention at Friend
ship for the expression of our contempt for the Fugi
tive-Slave Law, and for the election of delegates to the

"Liberty Party" Convention at Buffalo

which occurred in September, 1851. At this convention
were C. C. Foot of Michigan, J. W. Logan of Syracuse,
New York, William L. Chaplin, and other notables.
At the Buffalo convention were many distinguished
men and women from different states. As important a
delegation as represented a constituency was that from
Illinois, which furnished some able debaters and com
mittee men. Mr. Z. Eastman and Kev. Mr. Kumley
were the leading geniuses of the body.

Gerrit Smith was nominated for president, and
Charles Durkee of Iowa, for vice-president. This
was in 1851, — a year in advance. But, before election
day in November, 1852, I was booked for fifteen years
more in Kentucky, nnd political changes in regard to

84 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

parties had taken place to justify the abandonment of
the "Liberty Party" ticket.

Sojourner Truth.

I must not forget Sojourner. I met her first at
Worcester, Massachusetts, about August or September,
1850, at a Woman's Bights convention at which Lucre,
tia Mott presided. Stephen S. Foster had expressed
some sentiments that were rather unorthodox. Sojourner
was seated on the steps to the desk. A young grad
uate from the Andover Theological school arose and
said:

" Madam chairman, I should not be astonished if
God should open the earth and swallow us all up."

Sojourner rose, — tall, gaunt, with her white kerchief
tied about her head — "Chile, don't be skeered. I
queshen if de Lord ever hearn tell on ye."

CHAPTER XII.
Second Imprisonment.

A FTEE my liberation in 1849, the great desire of
J-*- our family was the rescue of our father's body,
which lay among strangers, far from any one who cared
for him, or revered and loved his memory. At the
time of my release the removal of the body was not
admissible for hygienic reasons; but now it could be
safely done, and I went South for that purpose. On
arriving in Cincinnati, I found the weather too warm
for such an undertaking, and was forced to wait awhile.
Indiana was at white heat over a proposed amend
ment to her constitution, prohibiting persons of African
descent from settling in the state. I entered the field
with several others against it, took the river tier of
counties, was watched by Kentucky, and often met her
citizens in debate. The weather continued warm. The
Fugitive-Slave law was in force, but I was appealed to
to rescue Tamar, a young mulatto woman doomed to be
sold on the block. I consented, and crossed the river
by night, at Louisville, in a leaky, sinking old skiff.
While Tamar, with a cup taken for the purpose, kept the

85

86 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

water below shoe-mouth, I, with a piece of board four
feet long and four inches wide, propelled the boat to
the Indiana shore. At four o'clock next morning,
November 3, 1851, we were speeding on our way
toward Salem, Indiana. About thirty miles out my
buggy was disabled on the rough roads, which led to
my detention. After taking her to a place of safety,
by rail and on foot, I returned to Jeffersonville, Indiana.
Sunday, the 9th of November, I was planning that
the next day I would go to Lexington, take up 'my
father's body, and hasten home with it. But, as
was said of Caesar, "while meditating these things"
("mors prevenit :" idem in me), I was attacked and
kidnaped into. Kentucky by A. L. Shotwell, Marshals
Ronald and Hamlet of that state, despite my protest,
and given up by the sheriff, contrary to law, and lodged
in jail, charged with the highest crime known to the
public sentiment of Kentucky. Every intrigue and
baseness was put in requisition to convict me. My
name was not yet known. My safety greatly — almost
entirely — depended upon that; for there was no fact
that could be produced which could be used as legal
evidence against me. But, my name known as an Aboli
tionist, and once convicted of violation of the slave code,
was sufficient to convict me with no other evidence of
fact. That was soon known. My friends at Cincinnati

SECOND IMPRISONMENT. 87

took the alarm ; and Laura S. Haviland, then of Adrian,
Michigan, came to my relief against the wishes and
protestations of nearly all the others. Dr. Brisbane,
Levi Coffin and S. P. Chase protested strongly that
she would forfeit her life — that it was enough that I
should fall. But she was braver than them all ; came
— saw — conquered; supplied me with bedding, money
and courage; made some friends and returned in
safety. She, with Levi Coffin of Cincinnati and others
in Adrian and Detroit, and Mandana Tileston of
Williamsburg, Massachusetts, stood by me unto the
last hour, supplying, encouraging, pointing to a
brighter future, until the signal-gun at Sumter broke
the spell. Miss Tileston had left her New England
home and engaged as a teacher at Oxford, Ohio, where
she remained to watch across the border until day
dawned upon me.

I had been kidnaped from Indiana. The high
sheriff of Clark county had given me into the hands of
irresponsible citizens of Kentucky, in violation of the
fundamental law of the land. Had I been held in
Indiana, it was well known that no cause could be found
for rendering me up to Kentucky. For, 1. If it had
been shown that I had aided Tamar in Indiana, only
the United States court for the District of Indiana
could adjudicate my case and punish me under the

HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

fugitive- Slave law of 1850. That would fine me one
thousand dollars and imprison me three or six months
(I have forgotten which). 2. But they knew that they
could not do even that; for no one knew who the girl
was. Even in the court at Louisville no one could
swear who she was. If, therefore, I had been tried by
a court of Indiana, I should have been discharged, and
neither convicted under the Fugitive-Slave law, nor
sent back.

The Inmates.

In order to prepare the reader to follow me, I think
best to show the ground over which we are to pass and
the obstacles and helps on the way. There were in
jail Mr. Adams, from New Orleans, charged with tam
pering with the United States mail; Mr. Forsyth,
who seemed at the time a fast friend to Adams. I was
inclined to be cautious of both. Forsyth was a rascal,
but smart, — of fine appearance, dress and address, —
and easily ingratiated himself into favor with the public ;
and I soon came to the conclusion to avoid exposing
any secrets, however much I might need advice, unless
I could see beyond any doubt that it would enhance
his highest interest to advance mine. For I felt sure
he would play into any hands that would help him.
There was, also, a young man by the name of William

"AXES TO GRIND." 89

Baker, to all intents and purposes white, though of
African extraction, and a fugitive slave who had been
in Ohio and Indiana. He knew freedom, and how to use
it; but having been a hand on a boat, and, as Moses
did in his day, seeing a man of the privileged clasL
smiting one of his own blood, he — did not quite slay
him, but hurt him. Another was John Marshall, — a
nice-looking, smart-appearing mulatto; but he was the
quintessence of knavery.

Now, I was at a loss what to do. I wanted help.
I wrote a letter to Frederic Douglass, which, in a nut
shell, said: "I'm in jail at Louisville, Kentucky,
charged with again aiding my fellowmen, contrary to
law; and though no testimony appeared against me in
the police court, and though kidnaped into Kentucky
contrary to law, which will cast a fire-brand into this
owl's nest of despotism that must by and by make the
^ears of this Nation tingle, I am in danger."

Forsyth, Adams, Baker, Marshall and I had "axes
to grind." Mine was dullest of all. Adams wanted
some one outside to do something for him. Forsyth
could do it if he would ; and there was every reason to
believe he would; for he not only felt no kindness for
Kentucky, but real enmity ; and he and Adams had been
friends. Forsyth' s wife was there, — smart, pretty, and
of fascinating address; and that worked in his favor.

90 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

I had no objection to putting obstacles in ShotwelFs
way in his effort to capture Tamar. If I could get him
to send Forsyth on a wild-goose chase after her, with
no probability of finding her, I would succeed in crip
pling my enemy, at any rate.

I gradually became familiar with Forsyth. I in
vited him to my cell, and soon broke to him the idea
that I might enhance his interest, and mine, in one-
enterprise ; — lhat he might induce Shotwell, the claim
ant of the escaped girl, to enter bail for him, and send
him in pursuit. He knew enough for the rest of it.
So I said to him, "Go to Indianapolis." I knew
from his make that he would not try to capture
Tamar; that he would not if he could; and he could
not if he would. I also knew that he would do me
no harm.

So Shotwell entered bail for one thousand dollars,
put into his hands two hundred dollars for expenses and
salary, and started him off. Forsyth went to Indian
apolis, told some of the people his mission, pretending
to be so drunk that his judgment was at fault, was
arrested, put in jail by some of Shotwell' s friends
there who had been instructed to watch him, sued
out a writ of habeas corpus, and was discharged.
That was the last of Forsyth. His axe was ground,
— he had got out of Kentucky, and what Shotwell did

"HALLELUJAH! VM VICTORIOUS!" 91

about the one thousand dollar bail I never knew. But
Forsyth had the two hundred dollars.

In a short time Colonel Buckner, the jailor, came
to me and said:

" Bank, your friend Forsyth has played a rascally
game on Mr. Shotwell. He went to Indianapolis, told
what he was after, gave them a chance to slip her away,
and played the devil generally; and Mr. Shotwell has
lost the girl, the two hundred dollars, and will have to
settle for his bail."

I was lying on my back in my cell, and springing
up, clapped my hands and shouted, " HALLELUJAH! I'M
VICTORIOUS ! " That was just what they wanted to find ;
that was their thermometer by which they found my
moral temperature; and they were satisfied that my
choice was on the side of the fugitive, and that I had
aided Tamar in her escape.

Next day there came out in one of the Louisville
papers the following: " Rev. Calvin Fairbank was
told, the other day, that Tamar, the runaway slave, had
gone beyond recovery; that Forsyth had purposely
let her slip out of the way, and there was no hope of
getting her back, when he sprang upon his feet shout
ing * Hallelujah! I feel like shouting victor y!^

Hon. James Speed called on me and spent the
greater part of a day, and upon discussing the situation

92 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

— my views of the slavery question — the Constitution
of the United States — the legality of slavery in any
sense, — he held precisely with me. Said he:

" I have seen the United States Constitution to be
anti-slavery ever since I became a student of common
law ; that it is in contravention of the law of the civil
ized world, to create or sustain slavery under such an
instrument. And more, as you say, Mr. Fairbank:
there is not a state in the Union in which slavery is
established by positive law, and that Mr. Pratt well
knew."

This kindly visit, and such expression from a man
standing as high in community as did Mr. Speed,
greatly encouraged me, not only in my constitutional
doctrine, but in my sense of a HIGHER LAW than any
Constitution.

CHAPTER XIII.
Laura S. Haviland.

HTHIS very estimable woman who had for many years
•*• given her time and means for the promotion of
the highest interests and the protection of the defense
less of all classes, and especially the African people in
America, still labored for my rescue. It was my wish
that some man of ability — that Mr. Chase should
defend me; and to feel secure, I should have bail, in
order myself to make preparations for trial. My plan
was to get bail, see the witnesses from Indiana and
buy them off, then go into trial and beat Kentucky.
Mrs. Haviland in the sixth chapter of her WOMAN'S
LIFE WORK, gives an account of her efforts for me.

" Bail or Break Jail."

I saw no way out of my dilemma but to break jail
or get bail. To go out by bail would cost five thousand
dollars. To break jail would cost just fitting keys,
getting them into the jail, together with saws, etc., for
cutting the bars out of the window after getting out of
my cell. Baker and Marshall were to be let out of

93

94 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED

jail. I became responsible for Baker's lawyer's fee.
Two plans lay before them. First, to prepare keys
and saw, and get them into the jail. To this end, I,
with Mike Cronan, a friendly prisoner, who also had
an axe to grind, made a hardwood key that would fit,
took an impression of the face of the lock, key-hole
and all, on a piece of wet sole-leather. Second, Baker
and Marshall were to go to work at once to collect
money for my bail, so that if the plan for jail-breaking
should fail, bail could be given.

They both went to work, Marshall collecting pledges
for money, and Baker making preparations for letting
me out, and at the same time collecting money. I
knew Marshall was very smart, but dared not trust him
with the money ; and I had charged Baker to hold the
papers himself and collect and hold all the money.
The keys were all fitted and sent in by the brother of
another prisoner in jail who had more of an axe to
grind than any of us. He had killed Drihaus and
was to be hanged, but had got a rehearing and a
change of venue to Shelby county. His wife and
brother visited him often ; and in one visit, the turnkey
being absent, passed keys, saws, etc., to the doomed
prisoner, who passed them to me with a letter saying:

"I will come next Saturday night; throw over into
the jail-yard beef with strychnine for the dogs, and

MARSHALL PLAYS THE KNAVE, 95

stand on the wall in the tower; and when you get out
into the yard, I'll let down a rope for you."

So he did. The dogs all died but one, — a big bull
dog; and he, in spite of strychnine, stood the storm.
Baker stood on the wall, until he saw that the plan was
discovered, and that was in this way: Colonel Buckner,
the jailor, had gone out at about eight p. M., shut our
door (I was then in the large room with Howard, Jones,
H. Olover, and Mike Cronan), and shoved the bolt
outside the loop. So it was open. About eleven p. M.,
just as we were contemplating our escape — so lucky —
so easy, the turnkey brought in a drunken man, and
discovered the door open, old Bull vomiting up his
dose, the other dogs lying dead in the yard. So ended
that plan.

Marshall Plays the Knave and Skips to Liberia.

Marshall surreptitiously got hold of my letters of
instruction, outwitted the honest Baker, went to my
mother in Bolivar, New York, got all my portraits and
steel-plate engraving, which cost me fifty dollars, then
went into Massachusetts, Rhode Island and other New
England States and collected an immense amount of
money. He married the daughter of Dr. Bunningham,
traveled with her, representing her as an escaped slave
and his own sister, until she peremptorily refused to

96 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

be used in such a way — to gather money by fraud;
then to avoid trouble arising from his fraud, he fled
to Liberia, leaving his wife behind. She had already
left him. He subsequently wrote Mr. Hay den and
others asking leave to return. But his request was
denied. Lewis Hay den had written to Cincinnati,
found out the truth, and threatened Marshall with
prosecution.

So now nothing remained for me but to try post
ponement in order, if possible, to secure bail ; — but
I was obliged to write to my friends: "Postponement
of my trial impossible." Lovell H. Rousseau, my
attorney, wrote "There is no doubt of postponement.''
And they believed him, and I was slaughtered.

CHAPTEE XIV.
Trial and Conviction.

T WAS in irons ; had been put in irons after the dogs
* were found dead. That night turnkey Casenbine
came in in a rage, tore about, lifted up one end of our
bed, then the other, and went out. All this time the
key and saws were right under the middle of the bed;
and as soon as he had shut the door behind him, they
went down the sewer, and were never heard from, that
I know of. But I was kept in irons until my trial in
February — the 18th, I think. Mr. Eousseau made an
affidavit setting forth reasons why I should be allowed
a postponement. First, that at present my friends dare
not come to my defense on account of the excitement.
Second, that the excitement was so high a jury could
hardly consider the case unbiased. Third, there were
important witnesses who could not now be obtained.
But the commonwealth attorney, Nathaniel Wolfe, re
sisted it; our motion was overruled, and I forced into
trial with no defense, — no argument except my own.

The jury was sifted as closely as could be. I per
emptorily rejected twenty-four — at any rate, all the law

•• 97

98 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

allowed, and seventy-two for cause. In selecting a
jury, two teachers, one of music and the other of
letters, were called upon the stand, and, giving satisfac
tion of their ability to try the case, were accepted by
the state. Then to my questions "Are you teachers?
What do you teach?" their answers were satisfactory,
and I accepted them. One man, a slave-trader, I re
jected upon that ground. One man whom I had seen
before had lived at Frankfort. I mistook him for a
former friend, and accepted him. I found afterward
that he voted to send me up for twenty years; but
the two teachers voted to send me for two years.
Finally they agreed to add together all the time ex
pressed in all the votes, divide the product by twelve,
.and make that their verdict. They did so, and found
their verdict fifteen years.

The Testimony.

Mr. Shohvell, the owner, testified to owning a
mulatto girl of about twenty-two years: — that he had
hired her to Judge Purtle; that she was about five feet
in height; that she had a dove-colored shawl.

Judge Purtle said: "The girl in question was in
my employ; answers Mr. Shotwell's description; was
missed about nine P. M., Sunday, November 2d. I had
bought her a piece of striped linsey black and red.

THE TESTIMONY. 99

I have not seen her or the cloth since seven P. M., Sun
day, November 2d."

Gribson: "I saw Mr. Fairbank driving a horse and
buggy, with a bright mulatto girl of about twenty
years old in the buggy, on the morning of November
3d. He was driving quite fast. His buggy was dis
abled, and he left it for me to repair, while he put the
girl aboard the cars. The girl wore a dove-colored
shawl and had a white handkerchief marked Mary
Bullock."

Senix: "I saw Mr. Fairbank put the girl described,
on the cars. She had a bundle wrapped in paper. I
tore a hole in the paper with my finger and saw striped
linsey in it." <

Now here was some fun as I cross-questioned him.
Though the linsey in question went off in a box, and
the witness was not within eight feet of anything the
girl had, he said, in answer to my question, "What is
linsey?"

"Why, striped cloth."

"What kind of cloth? — any kind, I suppose."

"Yes."

Turning to Judge Purtle I asked, "Judge, what is
linsey?"

"Cotton and wool mixed."

100 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

"Then, your Honor, you see that this man is not
only a knave, but a fool."

Again I asked the witness, " What is linsey?"

"Why, cotton and wool."

"Who told you that?"

" Why- - a - - he Judge Purtle."

This raised a laugh.

"Well, what kind of linsey was it?"

" Striped linsey." (Judge Purtle put into his
mouth "Checked linsey")

I objected to the whole of that testimony; but it
went down, just the same.

Then I called Shotwell and Purtle and asked,
"How many girls in this city answer the description
you give of the girl Tamar and wear the described
clothing, etc?"

"Five hundred," was the answer.

Policeman Rust: "I was in the negro church,
where Bird Parker preaches, at eight o'clock Sunday,
November 2d, and saw Mr. Fairbank there: saw him
shake hands with Wash Spradley. The cigar shop
• (calling it by name) was burned that night."

Then sending for the clerk of the fire department,
I proved that the fire occurred on the 19th of October,
two weeks before that.

THE TESTIMONY. 101

We rested the case as to the testimony. After Mr.
Wolfe's argument I said:

" May it please the Court, Gentlemen of the jury: —
You are sitting upon the destiny, and trying the
validity of inalienable right. And first, your Honor, I
plead jurisdiction of this Court. This Court — the
State of Kentucky, has no jurisdiction in the case. It
belongs to the United States Court for the District of
Indiana. Second, I ask the Court to charge the jury
that, as no testimony has been offered to show that the
girl in question was the Tamar in question, no cause of
action attaches. Then, gentlemen, I have proven that
there are five hundred girls in the city of that descrip
tion. So that I have five hundred chances to one, for
an acquittal."

A letter which I had written and handed the jailor
was brought into court, which ran thus:

" I am charged with aiding a slave girl to escape.
I know nothing of her. But, the public being preju
diced, I am in danger."

Judge Bullock would not admit it as evidence,
until its authorship could be proven. I acknowledged
its authorship. But that was not satisfactory. Some
one had to swear to my manuscript, which Mr. Casen-
bine did without ever having seen me write, and the
letter was admitted as evidence. And I was glad of it,

102 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

because it was clearly in my favor, — a flat denial of any
knowledge of the person in question. Then I showed
the discrepancy between Hust's testimony and that of
the clerk of the fire department, two weeks. But the
case was prejudged and I was convicted.

I was left in jail until Saturday, March 7th, when,
with sixteen others, I think, I was taken out for sen
tence. The question being asked:

"Have any of you any reason to give why the
sentence of the law should not be passed upon you?"
I rose, and said, among other things:

"I object to the sentence of the law because the
case does not come within the jurisdiction of this Court.
This case is one coming clearly under the FUGITIVE-
SLAVE LAW OF EIGHTEEN HUNDRED AND FIFTY; and
should be tried in the District Court of the United
States for the District of Indiana."

But my plea amounted to just so much wind ; and I
was ordered to stand up, and was sentenced to be con
fined in the JAIL AND PENITENTIARY HOUSE OF THE
STATE for the term of fifteen years at hard labor!

When writing of a letter I had heedlessly kept on
my person — not in my manuscript — not over my own
name, but "FRATER," I said, "mark this." Judge
Buckner in January, 1845, allowed that letter to go
before the jury as evidence against Miss Webster, be-

LEAVE THE JAIL IN IRONS. 103

cause she was in my company, and no other evidence
could be found. At Louisville, in the February term,
1852, as I have already said, Judge Bullock refused a
letter with my own name, taken by the jailor from my
own hand : and still, after I had said to the Court " It
is my voluntary letter," he would not allow it to go to
the jury, as evidence, until some one who had seen me
write could swear to my manuscript. That is the dif
ference in courts. Law is an elastic string.

My bail was five thousand dollars, and my friends
in Cincinnati were anxious; but no one dared venture
into the city, or the state either, to offer bail or defend
me before the court. So my cause fell by default —
without even an ordinary effort of an advocate, though
General Lovell H. Rousseau stood nominally as my
attorney.

On the 9th of March, 1852, I left the jail in irons
for Frankfort. On the 8th I was told that it was the
purpose to iron me to a negro. But finding that that
would enhance my pride the plan was abandoned and I
was ironed by myself, wearing my poorest clothes,
having boxed my best and sent them home.

CHAPTEK XT.
My Reception — Craig's Reign.

CAPTAIN CRAIG was still in charge, and having
^ been educated under pro-slavery influences, and
being a slave-holder himself, he was constitutionally
unfit to do me justice. He was purposely absent,
and I was locked into my cell until his return, on the
llth, when I was summoned to the chapel before the
governor and a large audience of invited guests —
cursed, misrepresented, traduced, — to all of which I
replied without modification. This order was then
given :

"Mr. Davis, take Fairbank to the hackling house
and kill him. Don't let him speak to any one, or any
one to him. If his own family, — if his mother comes
to see him, he is not to speak to her, or notice her."

To this I respectfully replied: "Captain Craig, with
due regard for your authority and due regard for my
manhood, I beg to say if my mother comes to me I
shall speak to her and submit to consequences."

This, instead of exciting wrath, excited admiration
for my pluck. That was sanctified pluck, and this same

104

MY RECEPTION— CRAI&S REIGN. 105

kind of pluck protected me through a great many
dangerous places during those seventeen years of mar
tyrdom, to April 15th, 1864, when I was pardoned ]
by Lieutenant-Governor R. T. Jacob.

Prison Government and Prison Life.

During my acquaintance with the Kentucky state
prison, from February 18th, 1845, to August 23d,
1849, and from March 9th, 1852, to April 15th, 1864,
and the interim from August 23d, 1849, to March 9th,
1852, it passed under the rule or administration of four
wardens: Captain Newton Craig assumed the warden-
ship March 1st, 1844, and again in 1848, holding until
1854 as a partner with the state, furnishing one-third
the expenses, and sharing one-third the net results.
Zebulon Ward, from March 2d, 1854 to 1858; at first
as one-third partner, but at the Legislature of 1854-5
obtained it as lessee, at six thousand dollars per annum.
Jeremiah "W. South, with Bowen.as partner, from 1858
to 1863, as lessee at twelve thousand dollars. Harry I.
Todd, from March, 1863, at conditions unknown, simply
for reasons I will try to illustrate.

South fell into misfortune in taking the prison at
such a price, just on the eve of war. Hemp was the
staple. The war cut off the market. South was loser.
The prison was impoverished — came to rags and huu-

106 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

ger. No one would take the job in 1862, the expira
tion of South' s time ; and South was allowed to hold it
a year free of cost. He held it in this way until men
could think — one year; until the obtuse, untaxed, un
cultivated mind of Kentucky chivalry could grasp the
question economically, and dig out of the conglomera
tion. I do not mean to intimate, even, that there were
no men of mind in Kentucky who could see a way out
of the dilemma. There were some, but very few. But
the majority, who could vote down every measure for
improvement, who had always relied upon the life and
energy of the slave for their thrift and independence,
voted down every measure of economy for resuscitation.

Finally, finding no other way, — convinced that
under Mr. South the condition of the prison grew no
better, the wardenship was given to Colonel Harry I.
Todd, with the agreement that he should put the insti
tution into a good condition, which he did, for Ken
tucky, up to March 1, 1864.

The occupations at which the prisoners were em
ployed were carpentry, blacksmithing, coopering, tail
oring, shoemaking, stonecutting, and hackling, spinning,
and weaving hemp.

Hemp was really the staple, and employed at least
four-fifths of the men ; and any branch of it was very
destructive to life, not so much from the amount of

"BLACK HOLE OF CALCUTTA." 107

physical energy to be put in requisition, as the dust
necessarily arising from the abrasion indispensable to
the work. Of these branches the " hackling house "
was worst of all. Here was the place where the hemp
— sometimes eight feet long — was dressed on steel-
toothed hackles, after being broken from the stalk,
filling the room so full of dust — poison dust — that on
a still dry day it was impossible to distinguish a man
from a block of wood, even in a window or door. I
have seen six men out of twenty-four in one week,
taken to the hospital from that " Black Hole of Cal
cutta," and die in another week.

Spinning stood next in its destructive effect upon
the prisoner. This was done by fastening a belt about
the body, with an eight-inch string attached, to which
was fastened a stick with a notch, called a drag, which
was hitched to a rope running on pulleys at each end —
for hemp spun into warp fifty-two yards long, for
filling, longer or shorter, to suit convenience. These
ropes turned the wheels, so that the faster the spinner
went backward, the faster the wheel turned — with the
dust rising right under his nose, and inhaled at every
breath; and the thread, if warp or chain, as it is called
— about twice the size of wrapping twine — cutting
right through to the bones of the hand; and it must
be done! If filling — about half the size of sheep-

108 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

twine — sometimes full of hemp sticks — often a fourth,
or less, or more — half a stick half an inch through,
running into the spinner's hand — KIP! clear to the bone;
for he must pull out his tow with one hand, right
under his mouth, and hold and regulate the twist with
the other; and any sticks must break, or break the
hand.

The weaving shop was physically more irksome,
though not so dusty as spinning, and this less so than
hackling. The warp — fifty-two yards long — was ready
beamed ; and the weaver had to draw in, or tie in, his
piece, and weave from one hundred and four to two
hundred and eight yards per day — by hand, — treading
— throwing his shuttle by a string attached to plungers,
or blocks, each side, and working a seventy-five pound
lathe with the left hand. Thus the hemp was made
into sacking, or bagging for cotton, for the New
Orleans market. As early as 1844 a slave's task at
weaving was seventy-five yards a day. The task in the
prison rested on the kind of man, the price of hemp
and bagging, — contracts — really, the market.

CHAPTEE XVI.
My Own Experience — Craig's Conduct.

DURING my first imprisonment, I was treated with
more consideration than Northern people were
expecting from Kentucky. Captain Craig was a mem
ber of the Baptist Church, had some acquaintance with
Northern people, was a friend of the Rev. Howard
Malcom, a Northern man, then president of Georgetown
College, and was proud to be called magnanimous by
Northern people.

Upon my second imprisonment, I found him inex
orable. I was sent to the hackling house, kept there
four weeks, and there felt from the hand of the reluc
tant overseer, W. "VV. Davis, the first ten cuts from a
rawhide. At one time I fell upon the ground floor
for relief, my face down. Some one said:

"Mr. Davis is coming."

I lay still. He came in, looked, turned, and went
out. At another time I felt desperate. I ran out,
leaned my back against the house, my face to the wind,
gasped a few times for breath, then ran to the hospital
whispering :

109

110 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

"Chloroform! chloroform!"

A few inhalations from a saturated handkerchief —
some vertigo — the spasms ceased; I breathed easy,
and returned again to my torture. After Craig's
wrath had somewhat abated, I was sent to the filling
walk, the place where the filling was spun from the
tow dressed out of the hemp.

An ordinary task at that work required a walk — half
walk and half trot — of thirteen miles a day backward.
I have often seen the new spinner with his ankles so
swollen that he was just able to hobble to his cell at
night: sore, tired, hungry; lungs filled with hemp
dust; head aching, and feverish; hands gashed by
the thread, and flesh gashed with the rawhide for some
trifling mishap, or slight to avoid what it purchased
with usury.

I worked at this about one year in all; sometimes
in the shoe -shop, when the press was intense for that
work; and once I was sent to the cooper-shop, where
my business was making flour barrels, pork barrels,
cedar pails, wash tubs, etc. While there Captain Craig-
attempted to vent his vengeance on Miss Webster,
then in Madison, Indiana, — got the two charges raised
upon the court docket at Lexington, Kentucky, which
had been erased in February, 1845; procured a demand
from Governor Powell upon which she was lodged in

SHOT IN THE BACK. Ill

jail to await investigation. She sued out a writ of
habeas corpus. Craig went clown to resist the writ.
Miss Webster was discharged. Craig was defeated,
after large expenditures, in getting her once more into
his power; and when on his way to the steamboat,
going home, — just as he was at the wharf, he was shot
in the back by the mob, the ball entering at the left of
the spinal column, and lodging against a bone in his
right breast, very nearly taking his life. When the
news came to me, I was watched to see what could be
made out of me, by a dirty, tale-telling, murderous
miscreant, Gardner, in alliance with one John Fought,
the foreman, who by fear or flattery suborned others in
the shop to testify against me ; I bowed my head upon
my breast, faint with fear of what might come of it to
me, sighed, and raising my head, said :

" Pm sorry; sorry for his family. He ought to
have staid away."

A few days passed. When Craig had sufficiently
recovered, I was locked in the dark cell for a few days,
then brought into the yard and tried upon the testi
mony of the witnesses referred to, who, all but one man
in the shop, testified that I said:

" Pm glad of it! I wish they had killed him! "

One man testified to the simple truth, and was soon
removed to the hemp.

112 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

During this summary trial any attempt on my part
(never more humble) to a defense, to examine and
cross-question witnesses, was promptly and tyrannically
checked. At one time I attempted to point out a con
tradiction in the testimony ; but before I could make a
statement so as to engage Craig's attention, I was
knocked down, his heavy hickory cane being shivered
into tooth- picks.

I was sentenced to receive thirty-nine cuts from the
raw-hide on my bare back, which — though dealt with as
much lenity and consideration as could be maintained,
by Mr. Ephraim Whiteside, the second keeper, and my
friend, who knew well the inside of the whole question
and its animus; who despised Craig for his vanity,
pride, tyranny, dishonesty and silliness — cut into my
flesh nearly every stroke. I felt them clear through
to the lungs as if they were beaten with a cudgel.
While executing this sentence, Mr. Whiteside dealt the
first two blows lightly, when Craig promptly stopped
him:

"Stop! Mr. Whiteside, those shan't count. They
are too light. Begin again. Strike harder!"

But before he had done he hit two of the thirty-nine
cuts across the waistband of my pants, and Craig could
not summon courage to order another addition. All
this injustice grew out of the spleen he entertained

THE SCHOOL OF SCANDAL. 113

toward me for my sentiments and my partiality toward
Miss Webster.

Our time of labor was from daylight until dark.
Our bed-rooms, cells of stone and brick, four and a half
feet by seven from back wall to door, and seven feet
high. Our beds, the straws of Bedlam, or something
better at times; and our bed-fellows, swarms of fleas
and bedbugs. Our food was, in the main, bacon, and
cornbread mixed with hot water. At times we had beef
soup, beef, potatoes, green corn, etc., when they did
not cost too much. Our coffee was made from burnt
rye, in the same forty-pail kettle, with the same old
grounds cooked over and over for weeks, until sour.

Craig was very pious, vain, prejudiced, revengeful.
He seemed to think that the world owed him a peculiar
veneration above anybody else, — that wisdom must die
with him. Every Sunday we looked for him in the
SCHOOL OF SCANDAL.

He invariably appeared in the clesk of the chapel
on Sunday, when at home and well, whether he had
the chaplain's services or not, — sometimes in the
morning and sometimes in the afternoon; and often
held us from two to four hours with dissertations on
law, gospel, theology, philosophy, race, and the "Insti
tution." It made but little difference about his text;

114 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

it was the same SCHOOL of SCANDAL for its variety and
unlimited scope.

One time as lie was dealing out peculiar lessons to
the prisoners, and aiming at one of the distinguished
prisoners who dared to say what he wished, the
prisoner said:

" CAPTAIN, YOU ARE TOO TEDIOUS."

"Well, Thompson, I don't know but I am:" and
closed at the end of three hours.

At one time Mr. Waller, prison clerk, attended a
lecture by special request; and having planned to take
a train at a given hour, rose and said:

"Captain, I must go. It is my train time." Craig
liad then talked three hours; and held on two more
after Mr. Waller left, making a lecture of five hours.

Invariably he poured his invective and tirades upon
me over Northern Abolitionists' backs in his Sunday
lectures until I became entirely disgusted; and to such
an extent that I had but little to choose between them
and the result of contempt. On one Sunday of his
last winter, he had been dealing out his wisdom for two
hours, when, becoming tired of it, I took shelter behind
a pillar in the room, and with my back toward him
and against the pillar, was quite absorbed in the senti
ments of a Christian philosopher, when

"Fairbank!" broke my thread of thought.

PUNISHMENT ESCAPED. 115

" Sir? "
• " What are you doing?"

" Beading, sir."

"What are you reading for?"

"Because, sir, I don't want to lose all my time
here."

" But, ain't I talking to you?"

" Yes, sir, but I don't want to hear you talk."

"What is the matter, Fairbank?"

" Sir, you abuse me, and my people."

"I do? Well, come out here, and sit on this front
seat," and I obeyed.

" Now, Fairbank, let us do better."

I expected that, as a result of my independence, I
would be locked in my cell, and receive a severe raw-
hiding; for that was the instrument then in use for
inflicting penalties; but for some reason I escaped it.

Craig ran for the keepership before the Legislature
of 1853-4, and was beaten by Zebulon Ward of Cov-
ington. His time drew near its close. He had no
hope of votes. Four weeks more, and Zeb. Ward
would take his place. No potatoes, no bread. Day
after day, nothing but old, fat, yellQW bacon. Two
weeks had passed; and bread but three times. Mr.
Adams, the keeper, demanded the task. I complained.
It was of no use. Now, my redress lay in a complaint

116 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

to the Governor. The prison committee represented
His Excellency. Kichard Wintersmith, Secretary of
the Treasury, was a member of that committee. He
was in. I complained. Next morning the men in the
weave shop, working near me, and on the side next the
yard, shouted:

11 Look! look! look! Banks, look!" There stood
Governor Powell, shaking his finger right under Craig's
nose. Next morning the boys from the shops kept a
lookout. Our weave shop was in the second story, at
right angles with the kitchen. As soon as the entrance
doors were opened — -just before bell time, — another
shout —

"Huzza for Banks!" for the kitchen was full of
steam from HOT COFFEE AND HOT COKNBREAD.

Craig made his appearance with the following:

" Boys, there's plenty of corn now." And we had
plenty for the remaining two weeks, when ZEBULON
WARD TOOK THE KEYS.

This was March 2d, 1854. Ward was a tyrant.
He was called the "Blood Sucker" of the county. He
cared nothing for human life. Money was his religion.

Craig had made his farewell to the men assembled
in the chapel. The Governor and the officers of state
were there ; and in their presence, he handed over the

"IF I KILL YOU ALL." 117

great gate key to Ward, who made the following short,
sharp exponent of the man and his administration:

"Men, Pm a man of few words, and prompt action.
Do your duties, or Til make ye! Go to your work."
That fell like hot shot. That was what it was. Next
Sunday we were called to the chapel again. As soon
as order was restored, Ward stepped into the desk,
stripped off his overcoat —

"Men, I understand that some of you are dissatis
fied with my time of working, I shall let no man hold
a watch over me. I'll not allow you to break me up.
I came here to make money; and I'm going to do it if
I kill you all. If any of you claim the ten-hour
time of working, just get right up, and go to your
cells!" We all sat still and smiled. But it was like
Shakespeare's smile — "When I smile, I murder."

CHAPTER XVII.
The Prisoners Overworked.

TTTABD'S rigorous, murderous rule was announced
' ' and anticipated in those two exhibitions. What
I say of it will be to show only its barbarity, as com
pared with Craig's.

The common task at weaving under Craig was from
one hundred and twenty-five to one hundred and fifty
yards of coarse hemp sacking with two to two and a
half threads or shots to the inch. Of this I could
weave — and did often weave — two hundred and twenty-
five yards of that quality in a day, and counted the
overplus as over- work on Saturday night. Every fifty
yards over- work counted us twenty-five cents. Under
Craig one hundred and fifty yards required, at most,
thirteen thousand five hundred shots.

Ward required as his task two hundred and eight
yards a day, with five shots to the inch. That made
the task twice the number of shots to the yard and
fifty-eight yards more than under Craig. So that we
wove under Craig thirteen thousand five hundred shots,
and under Ward thirty-seven thousand four hundred and

118

THE PRISONERS OVERWORKED. 1J9

forty. You see, Craig made fifty yards apiece, Ward
fifty-two. It was Ward's plan at first to lease the
prison; which he did the following winter, at six
thousand dollars per annum, and made in the four
years one hundred thousand dollars.

The lease system upon which I have just said Mr.
Ward obtained the prison from the state through the
Legislature of 1854-5 was virtually a sale, with very
little difference between the condition of the prisoner
and that of an actual slave. I mean that, as the slave
is entirely at the mercy of his master, there is no reason
why he should not expect to be treated with abuse,
only that such treatment would militate against the
highest interest of the, master. This was the condition
under the lease system, with slight mitigation. The
committee whose duty was to look into and correct con
ditions in the prison if necessary, had the same power
as under the partnership system. But, under either
system, the keeper, either in person or by his assist
ants, tried summarily, and punished at discretion. But
the state of class in the South legimately enters a
chapter in the social code that bars any person from
the business of any and all other persons of the privil
eged class. Any interference in any abuses by the
upper class is known to be cause of perpetual enmity, if
not of war. So that the case which shall warrant inter-

120 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

f erence must be one of extraordinary barbarity ; and the
master and the keeper could do about as they pleased.

I know the question arises, How can a keeper
treat a prisoner inhumanly in violation of a law of pro
hibition? My answer is — First, the books can't stand
up, stretch out their arms and punish, without prohibi
tionists of pluck behind the prohibitory statutes to
enforce them. Second, in most cases the prisoner dare
not complain, for fear of oppression as the result; and
other prisoners dare not interfere and report. And the
deputy keeper must be of sterner stuff than most of
them are made, to pluck up courage enough to expose
his employer and master and lose his place.

At one time the legislative cqmmittee sent Mr. Ward
for me, ostensibly for information as to the conduct of
the prison: and on leaving me to go before the com
mittee alone, he said:

"NOW, MIND WHAT YOU SAY."

That I understood to mean, If you expose me I'll
torture you in return. I wTas asked,

"What is the conduct of this prison? — How does
Mr. Ward treat the prisoners?" My reply was,

"Gentlemen, I am a prisoner."

That was enough, and I was dismissed. The com
mittee understood me to mean "I dare not tell the
truth against Mr. Ward."

THE SMACK OF THE STRAP. 121

When I say that Ward buried two hundred and
forty men, out of three hundred and ninety, I do not
mean that these were all the men he had under his
charge. They kept coming in and going out. But
three hundred and ninety was about the average there at
one time under him, and three hundred under Craig.

The previous history of this place is mere pleasant
exercise compared with what followed, for four years,
and to a great extent up to 1863. Let me give a sam
ple of one day. From daybreak until dark, men worked
as for life, knowing that, when next day dawned, who
ever was behind, felt the utmost of the strap. Monday
was settlement all around, unless it came Saturday
night. If so, the men were then locked into their cells
all day Sunday. After Monday, the smack of that
strap, and frequently two were in full play at the same
time, and the howling of the victims could be heard
every minute of the day. Men cut off their hands, cut
their throats, drank poison, and in various other ways
rushed eagerly upon the gates of death. Did I? No,
not I! I was tasked by the day, timed by the hour,
for two hundred and eight yards, thirty -seven thousand,
four hundred and forty shots of the shuttle by hand,
from May to October, 1854, and not a day did I escape
that strap, except on Sundays and 011 the Fourth of July ;
and never less than twice, and in most cases four times

122 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

a day, receiving from fifty-five to one hundred and
eight cuts of the strap on the bare posterior — not for
disobedience but for failure to execute a task as really
beyond my reach as the sun in the heavens. I could
never weave more than a hundred and sixty -five yards
of that sacking, and that was two thousand and seven
hundred shots; more than twice as many as Craig's
task called for. Every moment of my time in that
shop under Jack Page, I was liable to be called:

"Come down here!"

It was the first thing in the morning, then before
noon, then after noon, and the last thing in the evening..
Sometimes Jack and "Salty" Sam (Sam Thompson )r
both well whiskied, would strip for the work, and one
dealt on until tired; then, puffing, would hand the strap
over to the other, until a hundred and eight stripes-
seemed to appease their wrath, the walls ten feet away
being spattered with particles of flesh and blood.

The year 1856 was the most terrible of my whole-
life. Ward never retained any of my letters or my
money. That was not what he wanted. He wanted
wealth. At one time Laura S. Haviland sent me a
letter, in which she wrote, "enclosed find five dollars,"
and I called at the office for the money. The clerk,
turning to his book, said: "You haven't anything on
record."

SIXTY-FIVE LASHES. 123

"I received a letter from Laura S. Haviland, in
which she writes, 'enclosed find five dollars.' '

"I don't care; you haven't anything here."

Turning to Mr. Ward, I said: "The clerk says I
haven't anything on record, and here is a letter from
Laura S. Haviland, with the statement, 'five dollars
enclosed.' '

"Clerk," said Mr. Ward, "put that on record and
give Fairbank what he calls for. Laura S. Haviland
is a Quaker, and won't lie; but I hate her as I do the
devil."

Often my letters came when he felt too busy to
read them, — too anxious to get to his marbles. If from
Gerrit Smith, he would hand them to me: "There, if
you can read that, you are welcome to; I can't."

You ask, "How did you sit on your bench and
weave?" Well, I was sore, of course. It was like
sitting on boils, or sore eyes. I used to bring out my
blanket and roll it up small, or roll up my coat and sit
on it as on a saddle ; for weave I must. Often we had
to resort to strategy. At one time Jack Page had dealt
me sixty-five lashes. I felt that I could not endure
longer, and, looking up into the brute's face, said,

11 Look here, old f el."

"What do you want?"

"Ain't ye guine to do something?"

124 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

"Do what? I been doin' my best this half hour."

"May be you have; but I can't see it. I felt some
thing like musquitoes or gnats about me."

"Well, if ye don't enjoy that, I guess I'd better
quit;" and putting up his strap, he waddled out.

At another time he stood at the desk, looking over
the foreman's slate.

" Cleveland, Fairbank, and Hall, and Bailey, and all
the fellers over thar, are behind; and I'm guine to
whale every d d one of um."

I took time by the fore-lock; and leaving my loom
I went to the tool box, just behind the desk, and taking
a hammer, a nail, and a wrench as a ruse, I straight
ened up, and said:

"Mr. Page!"

"Well, what now?"

" Ain't it about time to give us a little of 'Hardy's
6es/'F" (the strap).

"Don't you fret. I'll give you hell plenty soon."

I went to my work. He called and whipped all
about me, and left me out. This was in the summer
of 1857.

ONE MORE SCENE OF BARBARITY. 125

One More Scene of Mingled Barbarity and
Triumph.

This, I think, was in November, 1856, after the
summer's ordeal had mainly passed. I was behind as
usual. Page came with the indictment and trial —

"Get down here!"

I pleaded. It was of no use. I said:

" I can't make that task."

" I know it, d -n ye! I don't want ye to, d n

ye. I want to kill ye !"

I came down. He laid on. My wrath resisted
the pain, greatly. I said to him,

" Page, you can't kill me in this way."

I kept count of the stripes. This, mind you, was
always on the bare posterior muscles. Eight there, in
my reach, lay the handaxe and other dangerous weap
ons thirsting to avenge my wrong: — my hand instinc
tively, involuntarily made the incipient effort — again!
— again! — almost clutched the instrument of death
that would have wrought my own ruin. But there was
a voice of wisdom counseling me — a quiet, still small
voice —

"HOLD! HOLD! I will not leavethee! Eemember,
there are faithful men and women who are relying on
thy fidelity. Thy conduct must not deceive them.
Much of the future of this question depends on thy

126 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

integrity. Remember, those friends in Ohio, New York,
Massachusetts, Rhode Island, New Hampshire and
Yermont long to greet thee again. And that faithful
one, whose heart is plighted to thee, waits just over
the border, to receive either thy dead body as her
trophy, or thee, just living, to nurse thee back to life
again. COURAGE ! — FAITH ! ! — YICTOEY ! ! ! "

Then, lost to torture, bonds, and imprisonment, —
lost to all but friends, home, National Republican vic
tory and final domestic comfort, I lived in the blessed
near future, marshalled the hosts of freedom to the
music of all rights for all ; saw the legions of despotism
melt away like frost before the representatives of the
American idea, and lived again in my own free North.
I had counted sixty-five before passing into that exalted
state. I awoke; and the inquisitor was busy at his
favorite task; and I counted sixteen more stripes. I
had counted eighty-one stripes in all. How many had
I lost? How long had the brute and his instrument
been playing upon me? The men about me agreed
in counting one hundred and three. So, you see, I
had lost twenty-two strokes of the strap, without reali
zation.

On Mr. Ward's first Sunday in the prison he de
clared his character, — the soul of the man, which will
be, beyond the gates, as to all characteristics, precisely

PLAYING MARBLES. 127

what it ?'s, and must be while he lives and after he
•ceases to live. His object was money, mixed with a
little fun provided it did not cost him too much. The
Sabbath in the prison was simply a play day, just
apparently conformed to what law existed on the books.
All kinds of play, social recreation, literary exercises,
athletic indulgence, and religious worship was free to
all without regard to race, color, or descent. All rights
for all, was about his motto; and mainly, I think, from
the tendency of mirthfulness. Marbles was the stan
dard amusement of the place. I have known him win
all the tobacco from the players; then, when any one
pleaded,

" I have no stake."

•'Here, I'll give you a stake."

Then win it back, and putting the men in line, let
them march past him and give it all away to men whom
he knew used the weed. He did not chew, smoke, or
drink intoxicants. Often the men would be formed in
lines, and two men stripped for the race and running —
the men shouting as the minister entered the yard for
service. He would often stand enjoying the sport, then
to the chapel to go through the farce of religious
exercise.

Zeb Ward was a free-thinker in some respects, — I
mean, he often declared that any man could "worship

128 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

according to the dictates of his conscience : — sing, pray,,
preach, play marbles, euchre, or quoits. If you want
to run, run. If you want to wrestle, wrestle. But, when
this bell rings for chapel, — it makes no difference who
preaches; whether Jim Morgan or Mr. Norton — the
man who dares laugh wants to go to his cell." He
played with his men as with his dogs. Whipped them
as a boy his top to make it spin, — as the engineer
crowds on steam to make time on his road. He enter
tained no social sympathy which acted as a restraint
upon his brutality incited by acquisitiveness; but
played or whipped as best enhanced the gratification of.
his mirthfulness or acquisitiveness.

CHAPTER XVIII.
A Speech before the People of Kentucky.

WAED'S term closed March 1st, 1858, and he was
succeeded by Jeremiah W. South of Breathitt
county, with Bowen as his partner They were both
born and bred Democrats of the Southern stripe ; and
upon the inauguration of the Kebellion, were in full
sympathy with it. To illustrate this reign, would be
only to illustrate Ward's over again, with some modi
fication owing to more humanity in the man, less
executiveness, and a spirit of humanity combined with
Kentucky pluck in a maiden daughter of about thirty
years, who invariably did her best to defend me.

Jack Page held his position as hemp boss through
this reign of five years. I was often locked up on
Sunday, besides my forty to two hundred and fifty
stripes. Eliza, the daughter, often made inquiry; and
finding me locked in my cell for failure of a task which
she knew to be exorbitant, demanded the cell-key,
came to my cell, often with her face adorned with the
jewels of her sorrow for me, unlocked my door, saying:

9 129

130 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

"If Page, or any one else, asks you who let you out,
tell them I did."

Thus that noble Kentucky woman, even a rebel as
she was, saved me many a day of misery — many a
living death; for ten strokes of that strap inflicted the
pains of death.

I had been often urged to speak — it mattered but
little on what subject; but rather on the National
question growing out of the anti-slavery agitation. I
refused, saying, " You want my cheese." But the
Kansas crisis pointed, as I thought, to war between the
North and the South. So I selected my subject, taking
for my text: " Righteousness exalteth a nation; but sin
is a reproach to any people." " Watchman, what of
the night? Watchman, what of the night?" I then
informed Assistant-keeper Sam Thompson of my readi
ness to speak.

The time was fixed for February 14th. This was
1858. Notices were sent to the press at Frankfort,
Lexington, Louisville and Bardstown, and brought out
Governor Charles S. Morehead, and the State officers,
both Houses of the Legislature, and citizens — ladies
and gentlemen from distant cities and towns of Ken
tucky. We had a full house of the elite of Kentucky
and the yard below was packed as at a presidential

"THE WAR IS INEVITABLE." 131

inauguration. Mr. Whiteside stepped out — beckoned
me, and turning to the audience, said: —

"Your Excellency — Ladies and Gentlemen: — This
is our distinguished prisoner, Mr. Fairbank. You will
hear him."

Governor Morehead suggested that I take my place
in the double door which overlooked the audience
in the yard, which I did. I then delivered a prophecy
of the war, and Republican triumph, occupying perhaps
an hour, closing with the following:

" GOVERNOR, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN: ' The war is
inevitable, and let it come! I repeat it, let it come!"1 and
Kentucky will be the theatre ; and you'll ' fight horse-
bridle deep in blood,' and slavery will melt away like a
hoar-frost; and out of it will spring a government of
all the people, by all the people, for all the people."

The audience were electrified — swayed like a mighty
forest in a wind.

Governor Morehead congratulated me, but, said he,
"Fairbank, you are crazy. The Yankees won't fight."

"Well, Governor, you'll see."

"But, do you think your party will ever come into
power?"

" Well, we will try it.

Said Senator K: — "Fairbank, you are crazy."

"So the Governor says."

132 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

" Why, we shall whip you so quick it will make
your head swim."

"Well, you shall see what you shall see.'
Senator John M. Prall: "Well, Fairbank, you hit
the nail on the head ; only you got through the war too
soon. It will last about four years; and the South will
be whipped; and equal suffrage will be the result."

This was three years before the war; it made an
impression and won to the Union and the Eepublican
party one of Kentucky's noblest sons, John M. Prall
of Bourbon county.

CHAPTER XIX.
The War.

TAURING this reign John Brown woke the Govern-
U ment at Harper's Ferry; and sixteen men, with
that John-the-Baptist of Eepublicanism in America,
shook the whole United States. That made my neck
ache; for Kentucky saw clumps of imaginary men
under arms in many a nook — in many a moon-shade.

Then the signal gun at Charleston promised a ful
fillment of my prophecy three years before; and the
war came, and slavery melted away like a hoar-frost.

Three times, during the three years from February,
1861, to April, 1864, rebel soldiers sought for me, rope
in hand, to hang me. Once I stood in the kitchen door
with axe in hand, and as they approached, beckoned —

"Come on, boys! Come on! You're not afraid of
me?"

Bragg captured Frankfort October 7th, I think,
without burning a grain of powder, and held it for
seven weeks, to about the 25th of November, 1862,
during which time all communication with my friends
ceased. During that time a company of Louisianians,

133

134 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

headed by a sergeant, came into the prison and visited
me in the weave shop, not knowing, probably, of my
identity, and formed for both themselves and me an
agreeable acquaintance. The sergeant was a very
pleasant fellow to talk with ; and becoming interested
in me, asked,

" What are you in here for? "

That was a sticker; for, at first, I knew not how to
answer. But the thought struck me, and I said,

"For having one more woman in my possession than
the law allowed me."

" Well, you go with us, and you can have as many
women as you like. We don't punish a man for having
more than one wife."

They were urgent that I should go out and join the
army, and they would protect me. Some days after
they came with a rope, and inquired for Fairbank.

"What! you are not going to hang him, are you?"

"Yes, we are, sure."

" Well, he works in this shop somewhere. Ask that
little engineer up there. He will tell you." And they
went in that direction.

As soon as they were out of sight I sprang through
an open window, ran to the carpenter shop, and Mr.
Whiteside hustled me into an upper room where he
stowed me away, and so saved my life that time.

A PROPHECY FULFILLED. 135

At another time I was told that a squad of " Eebs "
was coming in to hang me. I took time by the fore
lock and hid myself for the day, and so eluded them.

All through that struggle from February, 1861, to
the very last I had access to the papers, and was
posted as to the strength and location of the army.
During the battle of Bull Eun I was allowed to leave
my work in the shoe-shop and sit in the chapel, where,
in company with my friend Eliza South, I received the
printed dispatches of the work of slaughter. Legisla
ture was in session during most of the time. Governor
Magoffin was a rebel; and, finding his efforts to draw
the state out of the Union fruitless, he resigned.

The next Sunday after the first Bull Eun, the mem
bers of the legislature with many other gentlemen and
ladies came in as usual to see and hear me. I was
called from the library into the middle of the yard,
where timber was arranged for building. John M.
Prall then called out,

"Here, Mr. Fairbank, — here is your pulpit. Your
prophecy of three years ago is so far fulfilled."

I took my place in the center, when one called out,

"Well, Fairbank, how is it now?"

"Good! You can't say I'm a prisoner without a
party."

"But, how's the war?"

136 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

" Fine. We beat you at Bull Kun."

" How's that?"

Some one said, "I see his idea. It is this: If we
had been beaten we would sue for terms ; they would
be accepted, and slavery would stand. But now the
Yankees have just begun to get mad, and we will catch
h— 11."

I was wearing an old black slouch hat, and in dress,
as in manner, felt and exhibited a legitimate insou-
sciance; and jerking off my hat, — rising in my shoes
and hurling the old slouch high in the air, I shouted,

"'O generation of vipers! Who hath warned you
to flee from the wrath to come ? ' Yes ; our boys who
were more accustomed to Sunday-school than to murder
have just got the bark knocked off their shins, and
you'll catch Hail Columbia! and a Union victory would
have been a defeat. Slavery is used up. So I count
Bull Eun a glorious victory. You see, 'Whom the
gods would destroy they first make mad.' Our defeat
will kill slavery. HUZZA FOR BULL EUN! "

Thirty-five Thousand, One Hundred and Five
Stripes in Eight Years.

During Ward's reign from 1854 to 1858, and four
years of South's reign, from 1858 to 1862, I suffered

THIRTY-FIVE THOUSAND STRIPES. 137

the infliction of one thousand and three floggings with
the strap elsewhere described, averaging thirty-five
stripes at each, making a total of thirty-five thousand,
one hundred and five stripes. Sometimes one ; some
times five, ten, twenty, fifty, sixty, one hundred and
eight. These were mostly suffered under Ward : and of
his reign, mostly in summer. Now, you ask, how did
did you keep count? Well, I could count most of
the time, — and the men in the shop always counted;
and when I failed to keep count, I asked the men.
Then, I marked — posted, week by week — year by year
the number of lashes I endured. Three times during
South' s reign I was so pressed for my task, that, though
I was not flogged as much as under Ward, I was re
duced to one hundred seventeen and a half pounds
weight. My height is five feet, nine and a half inches.
My usual weight was one hundred and eighty pounds.
To be reduced to one hundred seventeen and a half
pounds left me quite frail.

Small-pox had found its way into the prison through
the army in February, 1863. I found myself obliged to
report invalid and risk that contagion in the hospital.
I did so, and was received: and next day, by my own
choice, separated with the small- pox patients from the
others, preferring to risk its results to being sent back
to the weave shop, by and by, after a little recruiteci,

138 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

and there slain. Yery soon my small-pox hospital had
accumulated seventy-five cases.

Now, before this the Union Army had driven out
the rebels. My brother Daniel from Portage, Ohio,
came in the One Hundredth Ohio Kegiment. It had
been determined to let me out. But, the general's
heart failed, then the colonel's, then the captain's.
Finally my brother came in with power to take me
out. The governor after Magoffin, had promised, and
hung fire. At last, I was promised next day. So I told
my brother,

"I will go to-morrow noon, if Governor Eobinson is
not as good as his word by that time."

Next morning before day, the bugle sounded for a
forced march after Scott and Morgan. My brother
left with the army, and I remained over a year longer
—until April 15th, 1864.

I remained in the hospital fifty-one days, as that
was quarantine time, — had a mild type of varioloid ; and
came out, I think April 24th, sound and strong, with
a weight of one hundred and eighty-one pounds. Out
of my seventy-five cases I lost but five, and two of these
would have been safe, had they not been complicated
with erysipelas and typhoid fever ; and one of the other
cases was fatal from fright. Fright is worse than
small-pox in the case.

CHAPTEK XX.
Harry I. Todd's Reign.

A MAN of "few words and prompt action" assumed
control of the prison March 1, 1863, before I left
the hospital. He was a square, just, honorable man —
loyal to the core. In the fall — in August — Thomas E.
Bramlette was elected Governor and Richard T. Jacob
Lieutenant-Governor. THAT WAS MY DAYLIGHT. Jacob
was brother-in-law to Fremont — a good friend to me,
and believed my conviction illegal. When assistant
keeper Lawler announced his nomination I shouted —
"HALLELUJAH ! ! ! THAT'S MY DAYLIGHT ! " I
well knew that they would be elected, and that the
first time Bramlette should be called away (and that
would probably be soon), Jacob would pardon me as
lieutenant and acting governor of the state.

Day began rapidly to dawn for me. Miss MANDANA
TILESTON, to whom I was engaged by marriage contract
in 1851, had left her New England home and repaired
to Ohio, where she could watch over my condition, and
if possible render me service, and established a tempo
rary residence as a teacher at Oxford, so that she could

139

140* HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

watch events through friends in Cincinnati, and Frank
fort, Kentucky and administer to my comfort. Through
her, in concert with Levi Coffin of Cincinnati, and
Laura S. Haviland, then of Adrian, Michigan, I was
constantly supplied with money and articles of com
fort during that whole period from 1852 to April 15th,
1864. As often as her vacations would allow her
absence, she visited me in prison, strengthening my
heart, supplying my wants, petitioning the executive,
and by her open, frank, brave and simple fidelity
made many friends among even the most inflexible
pro-slavery citizens. This, and my own consistent
inflexibility to principle, had gained for me the respect
and admiration of the magnanimous of both sides of
the question. Public feeling had softened. Kentucky
began to view me as a martyr. The war had wrought
a vast change in the fact. Public sentiment was
entirely in my favor.

In November, 1863, I was sent to the shoe-shop
again ; and in a few days asked to go out at day -break
and build some fires, and keep watch that the hands
who came out soon after and went onto Todd's farm to
build a wall, took nothing surreptitiously. Then, for
the first time, I was relieved of task. Todd could use
the men as best conserved his advantage for a whole
year, provided he treated them humanely, and put the

"WHAT YOU DOIN' HERE?" 141

prison generally in good condition; for it had been
entirely impoverished under South.

I had charge of the wood and fires for the chapel,
shoe-shop and tailor-shop. Some time in February,
1864, by order of keeper Whiteside, I was piling some
wood in a recess between the harness-shop and shoe-
shop, both being in the same room, when Legree the
Second, Jack Page's brother (Jack had died of whisky
erysipelas), came in (he had no authority in any but
the hemp-shops), and, after looking about, shouted,
" What you doiri* here?"

"Piling this wood, sir."

"Well, you stop it. D'ye hear?"

" I hear, sir, but I'm ordered to pile it."

"Who ordered it?"

"Mr. Whiteside."

"D—n ye! stop it!"

I kept on. Soon I saw a stick move out, and heard
the familiar curses and opprobrious language.

I took no alarm at this. It was a common occur
rence. The next instant I supposed I had hit the stove ;
and that was a thought of the duration of a flash of
lightning. Then I knew nothing for ten minutes.
DEAD! But recovering consciousness, What am I? —
no idea. Where — after recognizing myself, — where am

142 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

I? Then a voice, " He's not dead." Lying on my back,
I put out my hand and sat up. But I was blind.

" Boys, what's the matter? I can't see."

A voice: "You are hurt."

Legree: "He a'n't, neither! Let him alone!"

But the men led me to the water tub, just the same;
and upon the application of water my sight was
restored. I had been cut over the left eye, on the hair
line, a gash two inches long, half on the scalp and half
on the forehead, perpendicularly, fracturing the skull.
Mr. Whiteside had been sent for, who hustled the brute
out of the yard on double-quick. But after a week he
was allowed his old berth upon promise — in fact he was
ordered not to even speak to me unless I invited it.
About the last of March he was passing my loom look
ing so penitent — so forsaken, that I relented, and ad
dressed him: "Mr. Page, how do you do?"

"Pretty well, Fairbank. Say, I'm d — n sorry I hit
you that time."

But my equilibrium was not restored ; for I seemed
to be whirling in a circle; and that sensation was in
tensified — aggravated upon every motion of the head;
and especially a motion up or down. Many times I
have been saved from falling by an arm behind me.
In July, 1864, upon the cupola of the Chicago court
house the arm of Rev. Kichard De Baptist saved me a

IN THE HANDS OF THE GOVERNMENT. 143

fall of nearly one hundred feet. The same difficulty
has afflicted me until within less than a year.

There were three parties of the people : 1. A large
minority who were out-and-out rebels. 2. A small
minority of radical loyalists. 3. A small majority of
conservatives — who held to the side of safety: — loyal
because loyalty was safest.

Kentucky was in the hands of the Government.
Public sentiment had been culminating in my favor, as
the people lost their grasp on the " Institution."

James L. Sneed was clerk of the prison — had
always been my friend — was organized with large
humanity — was a conservative.

Tobin, an Irishman — an out-spoken, moderate rebel
— was friendly with Sneed ; had always been my friend.

Dr. Rodman, prison physician, had always main
tained an unswerving constancy to me — was organized
with large humanity also; was conservative; had a son
in the Confederate army ; committed himself to neither
side.

Eobert Lawler was a sub-keeper — rebel — strong
friend to me.

Ephraim Whiteside was for many years second
keeper; radically loyal, and my friend.

Harry I. Todd was firmly — stubbornly — -uncom-

144 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

promisingly for the Union. He was the warden — kept
his own advice.

Richard T. Jacob, Lieutenant-governor, had been
committed to my favor for years : had said to me before
the war: " If I was Governor I would turn you out to
day." He was son of John I. Jacob, of Louisville, and
son-in-law to Thomas H. Benton of Missouri. So that
he was related to, and inherited good blood.

Above and beyond all this, my affianced, Mandana
Tileston, at Oxford, Ohio, had been all these years wait
ing, watching, pleading, suffering, — expecting, at last,
either to carry away my dead body, or carry me living,
the remainder of our earth-way.

All these had been pleading. General James
Harlan had pledged his services. But as many other
of the unqualified Union men suddenly and mysteri
ously went down, so he went down. I was anxious for
Bramlette's absence for a while, that Jacob might hold
the helm for a few hours; for Bramlette refused to
interfere. I knew Jacob would. The time had at last
arrived when the people and the Government could
see distinctly that it Avas the AFRICO- AMERICAN'S War:
— that as he went, we went; as we went, he went:—
both must go together.

President Lincoln had sent General Fry to Ken
tucky with orders to enroll all the African people: —

A BOMB-SHELL. 145

slave, free, — male, female, — old and young; and the
men competent for military service separately. Gov
ernor Bramlette forbade it. Fry reported to the Presi
dent. Then was opened a discussion over the wires
for several days. I watched this as my "forlorn hope."
Finally the President telegraphed:

" Thomas E. Bramlette, Governor of the Common
wealth of Kentucky, greeting: Come before me
forthwith, to answer to charges."

That fell like a bomb-shell in the camp of enemies
in disguise. Bramlette was not long gathering up his
traps and heading for Washington.

JACOB WAS GOVERNOR, and hastened to Sneed.

"Sneed, I'm Governor. This is Fairbank' s day.
I'm going to turn him out;" and they two sent Lawler
to me.

"Fairbank, you are going out. Did you know it?
Jacob is Governor, and will be up to see you at noon.
Put your best foot forward. I'm going to help you."

After bell for dinner, we had huddled as usual,
talking up the war—" 'Kah for Sherman! " " 'Bah for
Lee!" and so clear through the roll. I had my eye
out for Jacob. By and by —

"How are you, Fairbank? Well, I'm going to turn
you out. Sneed, get up a little petition to knock the
blows off me. I'm going to turn him out anyhow."
10

146 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

I asked, " Governor, what shall I do for you when
I get out?"

"Talk about us like li-l. We've abused you. You
had no business here."

CHAPTER XXI.
Pardon— Reception in the North.

SO ended, at last, seventeen years and four months
imprisonment for the American Slave.
_ That night at the Capitol Hotel, with a mixed
audience of all colors, races, ranks and political parties
— with a ring of half-clad Africo-American children
six feet deep staring me in the face ; with Speed and
Prall, and Crutcher, and other plucky Union men, we
gave vent to our pent-up faith in airing the subject
until one o'clock next morning. At one time I heard a
rustling of silk and a squeaking of shoes as an elegant-
appearing lady stepped into a chair.

"Which is the nig gar thief?"

"Here I am, ma'am."

"Oh, excuse me, sir. I did not mean to insult you,
sir."

"No matter, ma'am; no matter. That's my name."

Now I want to tell a good story which properly
belonged anterior to this. Remember, I told you that,
on Sunday, February 14, 1858, Governor Charles S.
Morehead said to me, " Fairbank, you are crazy. Do

147

148 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

you think your party will ever come into power?" At
the outbreak of the Rebellion, he made a treasonable
speech ; and was sent to Fort Warren, in Massachusetts
Bay, where he remained a year. Upon his return I
requested an interview with him. He came in.

"Well, Fairbank, I understood you wished to see
me."

"Yes, I wanted to ask you if you had made up your
mind that my party had come into power."

He smiled, and looked beat. "Ah, Fairbank, I'm
just out of jail."

Next morning, armed with a pair of Colt's best from
John M. Prall, I entered the cars for Cincinnati, Ohio,
via Lexington, and took a seat quite near Ben Gratz,
a Jew farmer, and another Kentuckian of his neighbor
hood, when the following conversation occurred ;

"Mr. Gratz, I hear that Fairbank is to be pardoned.'*

"Well, — yes, I heard some talk this morning that
he was, already. All I'd ask would be one pop at him.
I'd shoot him as soon as I would a wolf."

I was sitting with a Kentucky lady, who had
volunteered to accompany me to Cincinnati for my
protection. The four seats in our front were empty.
Drawing my pistol, just screened from sight by the
back of the front seat, I asked,

" Ben Gratz, would you know Fairbank on sight? "

"NOW, BEN, I'D GIVE IT UP!" 149

Hesitating, he said, "Well — yes, I think I should."

"Well," said I, " here I am;" showing my revolver
and resting it on the back of the seat in our front.
"But you'll have to be mighty sharp; for I think I
have the first pop."

Then such a clapping of hands and huzzahing; and
—"Now, Ben, I'd give it up!"

And he did give it up handsomely; rising from his
seat, stepping toward me, with his hand extended —
"Now, Mr. Fairbank, I acknowledge the corn. Let us
make friends and call this a joke."

I crossed the Ohio that evening before dark, so
overcome with joy that, falling upon my face, I kissed
the dirt of my adopted State, and, rising to my feet,
and throwing my hands high in air, I shouted: " OUT
OF THE MOUTH OF DEATH!" " OUT OF THE JAWS OF
HELL!!"

Twelve years, five months, and six days, involun
tarily on Kentucky soil; seventeen years and four
months a prisoner since 1844. Forty-seven slaves
liberated from hell ! Thirty-five thousand, one hun
dred and five stripes during eight years from May 1,
1854, to May 1, 1862. Up to the liberation of Mr.
Hay den and family, I had liberated forty-four • slaves.
During the short time I spent in Southern Indiana in
1851, I liberated, before undertaking the case of

150 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

Tamar, for whose liberation I was sent to prison for
fifteen years, Julia with her babe, whom I met in
Windsor, Canada, opposite Detroit, in 1864, in excel
lent circumstances. Fourteen years I had been shut
out from the enjoyment of civilization; fourteen years
banished from home, friends, country, citizenship;
fourteen years deprived of domestic comfort, which in
its distant imagery cheered me in my deepest gloom
through that long night of despotism. "But thanks
be to God who giveth us the victory" by faith! His
hand was under me; His everlasting arm upheld me.
"Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me." Oh, the
Comforter brought to my remembrance whatsoever he
had said unto me; and my faithful Mandana waited,
and watched, and prayed, and visited and cheered to
the very last.

Reception at Cincinnati, Ohio.

I went directly to the residence of Henry Boyd,
an ex-fugitive slave who escaped in his boyhood, and
worked his way to competence, as a mechanic — a man
ufacturer of bedsteads. No one in the room recognized
me; but Mrs. Adams, the youngest of the family, soon
came in, and immediately solved the problem.

Said she, "Well, I don't know who it is, unless it is
Calvin Fairbank."

RECEPTION AT CINCINNATI, OHIO. 151

I then went to Levi Coffin's, whom I found alone,
in his sitting room. " Good evening, Levi."

"Good evening. But thee seems to have the ad
vantage of me."

"Don't thee know me, Levi?"

"Well, this can't be Calvin Fairbank, can it?"

Then after a happy greeting, and fraternal ex
changes, he went to the chamber door, and called out,

"Katie, come down here. Here is some one thee
would like to see."

Aunt Katie came down, — shook hands, steadily and
doubtfully eyeing me.

"Who art thou?"

"I am an old friend."

"I don't know thee."

"Don't thee know me?"

"No, I dont. Tell me who thou art." And away
she went upstairs again.

But Levi called her back, and asked, " Does not
this look like Calvin Fairbank?"

Then looking at me a moment, — "No. Thee arn't
Calvin Fairbank at all." And she wheeled away.

Said I, "See here. Do you know I had lost my
big toe from my left foot?"

"Well, well! Sure enough this is Calvin Fairbank."

152 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

This was Saturday night, April 16th. Next morn
ing early, before daylight, I was roused by the matin
bells calling the votaries of his Holiness to morning
worship. And, O, they passed and the time passed,
until I almost concluded that a new order of things had
been inaugurated in Ohio. But morning came at last,
and Levi hastened to spread the news among the vet
erans, and make preparations for the service of the day
and evening. We met, in the morning, in the large
Baptist Church on Longworth street, I think, about
three hundred people, to whom, after a short sermon by
the pastor, Wallace Shelton, Levi spoke in his plain, quiet
way a few minutes, then introduced me. I of course
was not very vigorous after so chronic a siege in the
jaws of the monster, and particularly after three nights
of almost sleeplessness — for I had slept but little since
Wednesday night — and spoke but a short time.

In the afternoon, after Eev. Wallace Shelton and
Levi, I spoke about a half hour to some six hundred
people. But in the evening I had the whole of the time,
after introduction by Mr. Coffin to more that three thou
sand. Every seat was crowded — more than could sit in
comfort; and all standing room, even the altar, and
steps to the pulpit itself, and the windows; and people
standing outside trying to look in — to catch some word.
I was dressed in my freedom suit — a pair of short

"SING, CHILLEN, SING!" 153

pants, short vest, and coarse rowdy hat, with an old
scarf about my neck.

I labored under a great difficulty in presenting a
tasteful appearance on account of a white stripe in
front between my vest and pants, and to avoid making
too great a display of it, I kept partly behind the
pulpit.

Kitty Dorum sat away back near the door. She
was a large, tall old black woman who had escaped
from slavery in her thirteenth year with thirty-six
cents, with which she bought some shirting, got some
one to cut it out and start her in at sewing, made up
the garments, sold them, bought more cloth, made it
up and sold the garments until, in 1864, she had ac
cumulated a good property. She was rich. She rose
in her dignity like Sojourner Truth, and swinging out
a white handkerchief, called out —

"Chile, come out from behin' de pulpit, dar!
Stan' up straight, chile!"

Then, drawing her kerchief around her waist,—
"Look dar! He looks like he had a new moon tied
aroun' 'im. Sit down, chile, we hear'n enough. Sit
down. Sing, chillen, sing! Sing de bes' ye got;"
and throwing up her hand, — "Lift it! lift it! Now we
wants money for brother Fairbank." And they did
sing, indeed. Then, as the custom of that people is,

154 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

they took up the line of march, passing down the right
hand aisle, to the front, and past a table in the altar,
leaving their contributions there. Several times I saw
persons who had passed and made their contributions,
pass and leave a second, and third contribution.

Soon Kitty Dorum came crowding her way down,
— "Get out de way, chillen! Kitty wants to come."
And, passing the table she waved a ten-dollar bill with
evident satisfaction, and flung it on the table, — " Darf
Dat's de way to do it." We took up over one hundred
dollars. A committee was then appointed to select and
purchase me a suit; and Levi Coffin, Wallace Shelton,.
and Kitty Dorum constituted that committee.

Soon after this, the Battle of the Wilderness was
fought. We were at Boynton's church. Dispatches
came in every few minutes; and as often Rev. Mr.
Boynton, according as the message was good or bad,
called out "Brethren, pray!" or "Sing 'Praise God!'"
Then, when the message came, — "Our boys have
recovered their ground, and are advancing on the
enemy," — "Sing 'Praise God from whom all blessings
flow' ! Now let us go to the Gazette office and stay
there all night. Take everybody along."

All night until the light of morn began to streak
the eastern sky. every inch of room about the office —
the middle of the street, and away up to Orchard street

"AFTER YEARS OF FAITHFUL WAITING." 155

was thronged with anxious people waiting for the dis
patches as they came to the Gazette office, and from
there sent on through watchmen standing in the win
dows, and repeating the messages as they were read;
and they echoed, and murmured wildly as they swept
through the city from mouth to mouth. The city was
in patriotic bloom, and swelling with martial ardor.
Seventy-five thousand boys were called from Ohio, and
responded heartily to the call.

I hastened to surprise my friends at Oxford wi-th
an unexpected arrival. Miss Tileston was boarding at
Mr. Shuey's. She had written me ; and Mr. Whiteside
had remailed her letter with a statement, "Fairbank is
pardoned." She held the letter as a secret. I had
called at the Cincinnati Gazette office; and Editor
Smith had promised secresy, but revealed it. The
Shuey family had the Gazette as a secret. Mr. Shuey
was in Cincinnati — had come in possession of the fact:
— had overtaken me on the road, and was anticipating
a surprise ; when all were surprised that, instead of sur
prising every one, no one surprised any one* for all
were in the secret.

After all these years of faithful waiting on the part
of a true Yankee girl we were married on the ninth of
June following, and entered upon the long-anticipated
realization of domestic comfort, which for twelve years

156 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

and three months lighted up our way toward the better
land, when she was swept from the face of earth
September 29th, 1876, to join

" Friends fondly cherished, who'd pass'd on before,"
and leaving with me a precious boy of eight years: and
a name that shall remain an example to the world, for
she "being dead, yet speaketh."

After my marriage, and return to Cincinnati I
attended a communion service in the Baptist church
which had extended me so cordial a welcome on Sun
day, April 17th previous, and preached the Com
munion Sermon. An Africo-American sat in the
pulpit with me, and made the opening prayer, revealing
in his voice, tone, sentiment uttered — referring to past
events, that I must have known him before. After the
service was over I asked him :

"Who are you? Is your name Burns? Are you
the man whom Ward sold down the river wearing a
collar and horns?"

"Yes, I'm the man."

"Well, fact is stranger than fiction."

He said he had skipped away out of his cabin by
night, fastened his horns and twisted them off, fled to
a man he knew who unpinioned his arms by breaking
the lock, then fled on, lying in the brush by day and
watching until he found an old trusty slave who cut

"BARBARISM OF SLAVERY." 157

the rivet that fastened his collar, and so escaped into
Ohio. He was known by parties in Cincinnati as a
pious, faithful, able preacher in the Baptist Church.
"When speaking of Baptists here, I mean the Africo-
American Baptists.

We next visited Chicago ; and I had the pleasure of
the hospitality of many of her best citizens, among
whom was John H. Dimmock, a lawyer of reputation,
who furnished for the Tribune a letter which reads as
follows : —

EEV. CALVIN FAIRBANK. — We yesterday had the pleasure
of an introduction to this gentleman, now in this city, and
spent an hour or more attentive and most interested listeners
to an account of his long imprisonment and barbarous
treatment in the Kentucky penitentiary at Frankfort.
Many of our readers will remember reading about the kid
naping of Rev. Mr. Fairbauk from Jeffersonville, Indiana,
in 1851, and his being taken to Frankfort, Kentucky, and
after undergoing a sort of mock trial, of his being convicted
of the charge of aiding and assisting a slave to escape from
bondage to freedom, and sentenced to fifteen years' im
prisonment in the state prison of Kentucky. We had heard
much and read much in regard to the "barbarism of
slavery," but never, until we heard the statement of the
reverend gentleman from his own lips, did we fully compre
hend the awful, devilish monstrosities of the slave power.
We will give a brief statement of the case, as related to us,
believing that our readers will be greatly interested and bene
fited by the publication of the facts in this extraordinary case.

158 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

In November, 1851, Rev. Mr. Fairbank was in Louisville
on business, and while there was made acquainted with the
case of a young slave girl, nearly white, who was endeavor
ing to escape to the free states. She was the property of
a citizen of Louisville, and was named "Tamar." The
story she related to Mr. Fairbank — though such as
thousands in her condition could truly relate — so worked on
his feelings and so aroused his sympathies and indignation
that he determined to render her escape certain. On the
night of November 2d they crossed the Ohio from Louis
ville to Jeffersonville, Indiana. The girl secreted herself
in a field while he went in pursuit of a horse and buggy.
Before daylight he got her, cold and benumbed, into the
buggy, and that day (November 3d) drove thirty-four miles
into Indiana, placed her among friends, and himself re
turned with the horse and buggy to Jeffersonville, where he
remained about a week. On his way to church, on the fol
lowing Sunday, he was assaulted and seized by the
Marshal of Louisville, Kentucky, and a watchman of
Louisville, assisted by the claimant of the escaped slave,
and thus kidnaped he was taken by force from Indiana
into Kentucky. He was thrown into prison in Louisville,
where he lay about five months awaiting trial, bail being
required in the sum of five thousand dollars, which he of
course was unable to procure In that state.

On the 25th of February, 1852, Mr. Fairbank was
arraigned for trial, although no direct evidence was offered,
and nothing but the slightest circumstantial evidence given,
such as his being seen in Louisville on the same night the
girl escaped; still, being determined to punish him under
slave laws, they convicted him under their statute relating
to enticing slaves, and he was sentenced to fifteen years'

"THE HORRIBLE WHIPPINGS.-1 159

imprisonment. During the time of his imprisonment he
was subjected to the most brutal, wicked, and inhuman
treatment conceivable. When he first entered the prison,
the profits arising from the labor of the prisoners was
divided between the state and the warden, or prison con
tractor. Each prisoner was required to perform an allotted
amount of work, which was equal to what a strong, well
man could do at the utmost exertion of his strength and
endurance. Mr. Fairbank's strength and health soon failed
him, and he was utterly incapable of performing his tasks.
Then commenced the horrible brutality to which he was
subjected. He was put at the hardest, dirtiest work, and
orders were given by Newton Craig, the then warden, to
"kill him." The insulting language constantly addressed
to him — the hated tones of voice and insolent and abusive
manner, to say nothing of the horrible oaths directed to
him, were enough to prostrate a man of his refined and
sensitive mind. But all this was as nothing compared to
the horrible whippings inflicted upon his naked person!
Forced to lean forward over a stool, chair, or bench, he was
made to strip, and then with a sole-leather strap, eighteen
inches in length, two inches wide, and about three-eighths
of an inch thick, soaked in water and fastened to a handle
about two feet long, he was flogged, sometimes daily, some
times four times a day, for not performing a heavier task
than it was possible for him to do in his state of health.
He was given from two to one hundred and seven lashes at
a time. Sometimes he would escape a flogging for a month,
and once six months passed off without his being whipped.
During the time he was imprisoned he was brutally flogged
more than one thousand times because he had not fulfilled,
through weakness and exhaustion, the task imposed upon

160 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

him. On one occasion, during the last winter, a keeper
named Whiteside, and the only human man connected with
the prison management, had directed Mr. Fairbank to cord
up a lot of wood. While doing this, an under-keeper named
Jeffries came along and asked Mr. F. roughly what he was
doing that for. Mr. F. replied that he was doing it by order
of Mr. Whiteside. Jeffries ordered him not to cord up any
more wood, and Mr. Fairbank replying that he must do as
directed by the officer highest in authority, Jeffries, in a
rage, seized a stick of wood and struck Mr. F. over the
temple a blow that cut to the skull, knocking him blind and
senseless, and which placed him in the prison hospital for
several weeks, and from which, owing to the shock to the
brain, as "in the case of the assault upon Senator Sumner by
bully Brooks, he has not yet fully recovered.

How many times the heart of the poor prisoner sunk
within him, how many times he prayed earnestly that death
might end his sufferings; how he was kept alive, and was
permitted to hope on, and live, is known only to his God.
Yet it is a great wonder how the mind could have been pre
served from utter wreck and ruin — how it was that insanity
did not deprive him long since of all consciousness of the
cruel wrongs he was obliged to suffer and endure.

But have we not the explanation in the knowledge that
he surely possessed, that there was waiting for him a
loving and devoted heart, made all the more loving,
devoted and constant by his civil bondage and the horrors
to which he was subjected? Was it not that he knew, or
had faith to believe that her efforts in his behalf would
never cease ? And that he owed it to her, if not to himself,
to endeavor to bear with Christian patience and manly

"THE STAFF OF LIFE TO HIM." 161

fortitude the grievous afflictions which he was compelled
to experience?

At the time of the imprisonment of Rev. Mr. Fairbank,
he was engaged to be married to Miss Mandana Tileston,
of Williamsburg, Mass., a young lady of rare personal
attractions and mental endowments. And the qualities,
both of heart and mind, which this estimable lady possessed,
will be best illustrated by stating that, during all the time
of his imprisonment (from November, 1851, to April, 1864),
Mr. F. was the one particular object of all her thoughts and
all her devoted affections. Her loving, and cheerful, and
hopeful letters were as the staff of life to him! Though
stripped of all his money, clothing and property when he
was imprisoned, and after his other means failed, she sent
him money with which to supply his wants — furnished him
a bed, bedding, towels, linen, and funds with which to
provide himself with suitable food, coffee, tea, etc., and to
supply him with such comforts as it was possible to do, and
that he might not be obliged to eat the miserable prison
fare which was supplied by the warden. She visited him
in person in 1853, 1855, 1859, 1860, 1863, making constant
efforts to procure his pardon.

At length, after twelve years, one month and six days
dreadful imprisonment in the state prison at Frankfort,
besides the four months he was in jail in Louisville, Mr.
Fairbank received a pardon from Lieutenant- Governor
Jacob, of Kentucky, and was restored to his liberty.

During the six last years Miss Tileston has been residing
in Oxford, Ohio, as a teacher, where she might be near Mr.
F. and where she could be enabled to furnish him with con
tinued means. As soon as he was set at liberty, he repaired
11

162 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

at once to her place of residence, where they were married
a few weeks since.

On leaving the prison he was furnished with five dollars
from the prison fund and an old suit of clothes, such as a
hod-carrier might wear. None of his personal property
was surrendered to him. the present keeper refusing to give
it to him, saying to him, "All this property is mine!"
Seventy-five dollars sent to him was withheld and kept by
the warden, Newton Craig. And after almost thirteen years
of imprisonment at hard labor, stripped of all his means,
he boarding himself during his incarceration, he is again
free!

What a martyr to the benevolent impulses of the human
heart, has he not been! What an illustration of the "bar
barism of slavery," is his history! What an example of
true womanhood. What an instance of that constancy,
devoted affection, and self-sacrificing spirit which is the
true ornament of the gentler sex, the rare exhibition of
wrhich in these degenerate days, makes this illustrious
instance stand out in transcendent beauty and holiness!

Reception at Detroit, Michigan.

t
Leaving Chicago after a month's very gratifying

entertainment, we took, a steamer for Detroit, where we
enjoyed a reception by invitation of the most prominent
citizens of the place, among whom were E. B. Ward,
Eev. George Duffield, Eev. W. Hogarth, and Kev. James
M. Buckley, now editor of the Christian Advocate at
New York, as follows:

RECEPTION AT DETROIT, MICH. 163

A PUBLIC DISCOURSE BY EEV. CALVIN FAIRBANK. — The
following correspondence has already been alluded to by us
and will explain itself. We hope that Mr. Fairbank will
secure a numerous attendance, and can assure all who may
be present of an interesting narrative. Mr. Fairbank has
been stripped of health and means. He desires to publish
an account of his imprisonment, in such a form as will be of
pecuniary benefit to him. It is proper to state that at the
lecture provided for in the correspondence, an opportunity
will be afforded those who may feel inclined, to contribute
for the object named.

AN INVITATION.

DETBOIT, July 30, 1864.
REV. CALVIN FAIEBANK — Dear Sir:

The undersigned, learning that you will remain in Detroit for
some days, and appreciating your devotion to human freedom, and
sympathizing with the sufferings you have endured on that account,
would be pleased to hear from your own lips on some public occasion
the recital of the incidents of your twelve years' imprisonment in
the state prison of Kentucky for the sole alleged crime of giving
practical application to the sublime precepts of the Golden Rule.

H. P. BALDWIN, E. B. WAED,

ALLAN SHELDON, WM. A. HOWARD,

L. G. BERRY, GEO. DUFFIELD,

JOHN J. LEONARD, JOHN P. SCOTT,

WM. A. BUTLER, JOHN H. GRIFFITH,

DAVID PRESTON, S. ELDREDGE,

A. SHELEY, H. D. KITCHELL,

LYMAN BALDWIN, R. W. KING,

DANIEL CHAMBERLIN, J. OWEN,

CAMPBELL, LINN & Co., S. CONANT,

STEPHEN BALMER, H. HALLOCK,

W. HOGARTH, JAMES M. BUCKLEY,
KELLOGG, GRANGER & SABIN.

164 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

ME. FAIRBANK'S REPLY.

DETBOIT, August 2, 1864.

GENTLEMEN — I have just received your letter of the 30th ult.,
requesting me to give on some public occasion an account of the
unjust imprisonment from which I have lately been released, and
during which I suffered at the hands of a " horde of petty tyrants "
all the horrors legitimately arising from the institution so long a
blight to American civilization. I am glad to accept your invita
tion, and will on Sunday, the 7th inst., at 7^ o'clock p. M., at the
Congregational Church on Fort street, give a detailed account of my
arrest, imprisonment, and pardon on the 15th of April by Lieu-
tenant-Governor Jacob, then acting Governor.

Meanwhile I shall look forward to that occasion, confidently
hoping that I shall be able to afford you satisfaction and meet your
most sanguine expectations.

I crave, gentlemen, the privilege of subscribing,

Yours, for the slave,

CALVIN FAIRBANK.

To MESSBS. H. P. BALDWIN, E. B. WABD, WM. A. HOWABD, W.
HOGABTH, JAMES M. BUCKLEY, GEOBGE DUFFIELD, JOHN OWEN, A.
ELDBIDGE, H. D. KITCHELL, and others.

At Ypsilanti the report is as follows:

Several introductory exercises having been gone through,
the Rev. Calvin Fairbank, the orator of the evening, was
introduced, and was received with cheer after cheer. He
gave a long history of his capture, sufferings, and release
from the Kentucky penitentiary. He also eulogized the
Christian fortitude and truly womanly bearing of his be
trothed, who, on his release, was immediately joined to him
in holy wedlock.

Ann Arbor, Michigan, reports:

REV. CALVIN FAIRBANK, who was kidnaped from Indiana,
November 9th, 1852, and lodged in Louisville jail, put in

WELCOME AT O BERLIN. 165

irons, and finally sent to the prison at Frankfort under sen
tence of fifteen years, for giving aid and assistance to a slave
girl who had escaped from her master, A. L. Shotwell of
Louisville, and pardoned on the 15th of April last by Lieu
tenant and Acting Governor Jacob, in absence of Governor
Bramlette, after suffering more than twelve years, will speak
at College Hall, to morrow evening (Sunday, 18th inst.), at
seven o'clock, giving a history of his arrest, trial, imprison
ment, suffering and pardon. As we see from the public
papers, Mr. Fairbank's case is one involving romance and
tragedy: Romance, in the faithful adherence of a faithful
young woman, Miss Tileston, of Williamsburg, Mass., who
left her home in the far east and repaired to the west, to
watch the interests of the one she loved, and their marriage
on the 9th of June ; and tragedy, in the barbarous and mur
derous treatment through which he has passed, and comes
to us living. He states that he has received more than one
thousand floggings, equal to more than thirty-five thousand
lashes; and other abuses in proportion. Come and hear
him.

Our next welcome was at Oberlin, where we enjoyed
the freedom of the most renowned community and
institution of learning in the country, having sent into
the field as officers, soldiers, nurses and teachers more
men and women than any — I came near saying than
all the other schools in the United States put together.
I don't know how far I should have erred if I had. I
spoke in the Second church, which was packed with
students, Prof. Cowles presiding.

In his introductory remarks he said: "I am about

166 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

to introduce to yon one who, for his loyalty to the
' Higher Law,' and for his contempt of the law of
despotism, — scorning alike her authority in her hours of
prosperity, and her proffers of distinction in her hour
of peril: and daring to smite in the face a state guilty
of superlative infidelity to the Nation and the moral
law, — received at the hands of enlightened infidels
seventeen years and four months of imprisonment at
hard labor, and more than thirty-five thousand stripes.
And still he is not frightened out of his loyalty, but
stands out to-day as a glorious exponent of the Liberty
Guards of the Nation. Ladies and gentlemen, I mean
Eev. Calvin Fairbank."

i

CHAPTER XXII.
Election. — My Vote at Oberlin.

HAD left Oberlin with the express understanding
that I should return, and support the party with
my vote. I had not voted there during fifteen years,
my vote in 1849 being the last I had cast in that town,
though I had, all the while, held my citizenship there;
and in Cincinnati in 1851 voted the State ticket for Sam
Lewis for Governor.

I was in Cleveland; and left just in time to arrive
in Oberlin at twenty-five minutes before sundown, and
took a double-quick for the polling place. As I left
the depot I heard the shout, — " There he comes! Come
on! Come on!" And there stood Peck, Ellis, Plumb,
Cowles, Hill, Morgan and Charles G. Finney, beckoning
me on, and shouting, "Come on! Come on!" Almost
every place has the ubiquitous Democrat; and he was
here to question my vote. Said Mr. Finney, " Come,
challenge his vote if you are going to. But, if you do,
he will swear it in." But he did not challenge, and I
cast my first vote in the town for fifteen years ; and the
first Republican vote of my life.

167

168 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

I have always thought well of a religion which
comprehended citizenship; — of a ministry that found
sin in bad voting and recognized the obligation of the
citizen at the polls as a moral obligation.

At Toronto, Canada — Field-day — Sir Charles
Napier — His Audience.

At Toronto, Canada, we enjoyed one of the most
pleasant experiences since the day of our nuptials,
mainly, and notably, that I was before a British people,
who were not as loyal to us as they ought to have been,
— that I had an opportunity to remind them in their
own homes, and in presence of high authority, of their
kinship, and their obligation to our independent mem
ber of the English family, without in the least becom
ing offensive. But 011 the contrary, eliciting the
applause of the great marshal and soldier of the Crimea
with his staff, and officers of rank, in one of the most
respectable churches in the city. This was October,
1864.

On the Saturday before I had witnessed the most
magnificent pageant of my life. It was field-day : and
Sir Charles Napier sat, apparently, an uninterested,
unconcerned, happy, sandy-whiskered Scotchman, his
aids riding swift and fleet, — stooping — touching cap,—
and away to the gorgeously arrayed and exquisitely

FIELD DAY—SIR CHARLES NAPIER. 169

marshaled lines — at a sound of the horn sometimes in
a moment condensing into a phalanx, then spinning
from some corner, or perhaps two, or more : and sooner
than I can write it stretching away in glittering lines,
receding in the distance: then in apparent battle in
our front: and at another sound, the fleet chargers fly
over the green, and we are startled with the sound of
battle in our rear, and sent flying to the barracks.

So, recognizing the hero of the Crimea with his
georgeous suite, and a large number of a lower rank,
and common soldiery before me, — speaking of the
animus of the Confederacy, the necessity of resistance
on the part of the United States, and even aggressive
war until submission, I said:

"/ witnessed your field-day yesterday: and the
worst wish I entertained was that Grant had Sir Charles
with ten thousand of his well-disciplined troops on the
Potomac with him."

And Sir Charles rose high in his seat, — his cane
fell heavily on the floor followed by such a crash, and
clapping of hands, and waving of flags of both England
and America blended, as rarely comes to the lot of an
American speaker on British soil. I had hit the right
string. I had gained a victory. Surely, I had wit
nessed, at any rate, a spirit of friendship in a renowned

170 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

British soldier and his hundred spearmen for the
daughter of their mother.

Thence we took our way to grand old Alleganyy
New York, visited my mother, and family: and soon
bent our course for Williamsburg, Massachusetts, where
we arrived on Thanksgiving day of 1864.

On January 2d, 1865, we left Massachusetts for
Philadelphia, where we had been called to enjoy an
ovation from the people in a most emphatic and loyal
demonstration in speech and song, and here we enjoyed
once more —

" Home again, home again,
From a foreign shore."

About the 10th of January I attended one of the
most extraordinary meetings that come to mortals dur
ing a lifetime. Considering the object of the meeting,
its constituency, its presiding genius, and the character
of the speakers, it was one the like of which is rarely
enjoyed in a century. Called by the first citizens of
Philadelphia for the purpose of entering a protest
..ly against the practice of the Street Railway Companies
toward Africo - American passengers, — refusing them
room in the same car with white people, — presided over
by Bishop Potter of the Protestant Episcopal Church,
and addressed by such men as Robert Purvis, Brewster,
and Phillips Brooks, it was one of the most notable

"I AM A GENTLEMAN!" 171

^ itherings of the decade. Phillips Brooks was eloquence
personified. As he poured forth his thoughts he
svayed like an elm in the storm. After Mr. Brooks,
came a little man with an intellectual, though hideous
face.

"MR. CHAIRMAN: I'm a gentleman: because no man
,a,n hold this ticket (a platform ticket) who is not a
gentleman. I have not always been a gentleman. In
former times I and my father were known as the slave -
hunter's attorneys ; and whenever the poor fugitive fled
toward the North Star for his life, we were always
relied upon to recapture him ; or provide the legal advice
and instruments for his rendition. Then I was not a
gentleman. But, Mr. Chairman, I have repented, and
am forgiven. Now I am a gentleman. I have been
for a long time disgusted with the practice of the street
railway companies toward thirty thousand people in
this city. A gentleman or lady with a dark complexion,
or a moiety of African blood, — never whiter, if it is just
believed that an infinitesimal drop of African blood
runs in his, or her veins, cannot, by their rules, ride on
their cars with white people, decent, or never so indecent
if only a claim to Caucassian blood can be maintained,
but must go to the 'Jim Crow' car. Mr. Chairman,
what is the objection to this people? They say that
they are black — that they are homely. Am I not

172 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

homely too? Look at my face. I have had people
turn away from me in disgust. Don't I feel it? Don't
they feel it ? Don't I know what it is ? Are not these
people, many of them, specimens of exquisite symmetry ?
Every art has been used to make my face look like a
human face; and still I am hideous to look at. I can't
help it. They can't help it. But, it is said they smell
Lad. Who makes this complaint? Who are they?
Why, sir, they are people who patronize onions and
whisky more than cologne. Whew! — I can smell one a
mile, now! Mr. Chairman, let us pass this bill of
instructions, and let these companies know that they
are not to trample on the dearest rights of community
— of humanity — to infringe and trench upon the civil,
social, and moral structure of American civilization."

Mr. Purvis had spoken with great power, and the
resolves passed by acclamation.

CHAPTER XXIII.
At Baltimore, Washington, and Norfolk, Va.

A KRANGEMENTS had been completed for a re-
•* ^ ception at the most aristocratic church of the
Africo- Americans of Washington ; and, receiving a
letter from Eev. Henry Highland Garnett, its pastor,
we at once repaired to Baltimore where we spent the
Sabbath with pleasant results, and on Monday follow
ing were in the "City of vast distances," a guest of
Dr. Garnett, one of the most learned and distin
guished pure-blooded Africo- Americans in the United
States.

At an audience given me in that church, on the
night of my arrival, I met many of the Northern anti-
slavery workers who were reaping a little harvest as a
result of former labors in the cause of freedom. I had
made the acquaintance of Kev. John Pierpont, then
pastor of a church in the city, and on a pleasant Sun
day we were on our way to his church when I heard a
call, — saw a man in full run, beckoning — " Doctor, Mr.
Garnett has sent for you TO PREACH BEFORE THE
PRESIDENT, AND MORE THAN A SCORE OF CONGRESSMEN.

173

174 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

He lias been sick, and is not able to preach. He wants
you to come right up."

I sent him to my room for my papers (you see, I
did not want to preach before such an audience without
my compass), and preached with satisfaction to myself
before the most angust audience I had ever addressed.
There were the President of the United States, his wife
and family, and most of the members of his cabinet —
Mr. Seward, S. P. Chase, Mr. Stanton, Mr. Speed; and
Senators Sumner, Wilson, Hale, Wade, Cass, Gratz
Brown; and of the Lower House, Ashley, Dawes and
a score unknown to me, — yes, and there were Senators
Powell and Garrett Davis of Kentucky, and Lane and
Pomeroy of Kansas; and the most of them in gold-
bowed spectacles. It was an august, impressive au
dience.

At the close Dr. Garnett announced that I would
speak in the Thirty-first Street Baptist church that
evening: and a Friend from Fair Haven, Connecticut,
said to me, "Why did not thee tell us thou wert Calvin
Fairbank before thee began to preach? I should have
enjoyed it so much better."

At Norfolk, Va.— John M. Brown.

When at Oberlin I was familiar with a very intel
lectual, pious, zealous young Africo-American — John

AT NORFOLK, V A.— JOHN M. BROWN. 175

M. Brown, with whom I was accustomed to go out on
Sunday, and hold meetings. It was he who called my
attention to the case of Gilson Berry's wife, which
finally led to the escape of Mr. Hayden, and my first
arrest. I found that he was at Norfolk, and wrote to
him. I had changed my boarding place. One day I
was told that a gentleman had called to see me, and on
coming into his presence and not recognizing him,
asked, "Who is this?"

"My name is Brown. Don't you know me?"

"No, I don't."

"You and I used to be fast friends." Still I did
not know him.

"Where did you know me?"

"At Oberlin."

Then I had to think for a while before I could get
him into my mind ; for he looked so young and hand
some that I could not conclude that pleasant little John
M. Brown was before me. I expected to see him old
and broken. At last I recognized him as my friend of
the days of "Lang Syne" We soon went to Norfolk,
and were met at the landing wharf by Bro. Brown,
many of his people, a score of teachers in employ of the
American Missionary Society with Secretary Whipple
at their head, and escorted to the Mission House where
we enjoyed a most refreshing stay until the Thursday

176 HO W "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

before the fall of Kichmond, March 30, when we took a
steamer for Washington, after some most magnificent
demonstrations of loyalty to us, to the United States,
and to God by that people who for two hundred years
had been crushed under the heel of despotism. There
were several large Africo-American churches there
which were unable to hold more than a small minority
of the people who crowded every place where we
appeared. The white rebels avoided us.

President Lincoln's Inauguration.

March 4th, 1865, was a most horrid morning. Bain
fell in broken sheets, driven by the wind; but people
came just the same, moving toward the Capitol until
twelve M. The mud in .Pennsylvania Avenue was hub
deep — a canal of batter ; and I stood with my good wife
from nine A.M. until twelve M. in front of the great plat
form, standing on bricks as the rain dashed upon a
thousand umbrellas.

Without regard to rain, we took our positions near
the front platform where the great event was to occur,
Mrs. Fairbank standing each foot on two bricks where,
protected by three umbrellas, we remained three hours,
until twelve M., when the immortal pageant burst from
the columns of the Capitol. The rain had ceased, the
clouds hastened to their chambers ; and nature assumed

THE LEVEE— SOJOURNER TRUTH. 177

an air of joy and serenity rarely witnessed on that day.
Then the short, pointed, brave declaration of the mind
of 'the Chief Executive of the Nation — "DROP FOB DROP:

The Levee.

At the levee that night thirty thousand people
passed in and out of the White House. At one time a
throng was pressing the door of the room where the
President received his guests, and Frederic Douglass
among others pressed to the door, when "Hold on! "-
and others kept passing in.

"Hold on! You can't go in now. It is not con
venient."

"How is that? I see others passing in."

Some one interfered, — "This is Frederic Doug-
lass."

When Douglass, — "Never mind. I do not want to
go in as Frederic Douglass; but as a citizen of the
United States."

Here comes the great man of the age, President
Lincoln, with his long arm extended over heads and
through the crowd. — "WHY, HOW DO YOU DO, FREDERIC?
COME RIGHT IN!"

Some time after we were standing in the great East

room when
12

178 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

Sojourner Truth,

walking in, and approaching the marshal, said: "I
want to see President Lincum."

"Well, the President is busy, I think, and you can't
see him now."

"Yes, I must see him. If he knetv I ivas here he'd
come down an"1 see me"

Finally the marshal went to the President's room
with a statement of the case, when the President said,

" I guarantee that she is Sojourner Truth. Bring
her up here."

And here she came; and we just approached near
enough to catch the glimpses, and hear the words of
greeting.

" SOJOURNER TRUTH! How GLAD i AM TO SEE YOU."

The President bought her book. Then handing
him her photograph, she said:

" If s got a black face but a white back; an* Fd like
one o' yourn wid a green back."

That was too good. The President laughed heartily ;
then putting his fingers into his vest-pocket, and hand
ing her a ten-dollar bill said, "There is my face with
a green back."

We left Norfolk on Thursday, March 30th, before
the fall of Kichmond. To make this clear, — we went to
New York after our first visit to Philadelphia and

"/'Jf A REBEL, SIR." 179

Washington the first time, then returned to "Washington
and Norfolk, stopping at Wilmington, Delaware, as I
have said. We had a Government pass and transporta
tion. At Fortress Monroe we took on board three rebel
ladies, one of whom was Mrs. General Helm, in care of
General Singleton, of Quincy, Illinois. Our state-room
was the small cabin. Soon they were playing at cards.
Standing in the door the purser said to me,

"Do you see those three ladies playing at cards
at that table? That pinky-looking one there is Mrs.
Helm, Mrs. Lincoln's sister. The other two are going
to Quincy, Illinois, with General Singleton."

I soon caught on and said, "I'm a rebel, sir."
"Yes, I know what kind of a rebel you are."
"Well, I am." Then, taking my place on the sofa I
soon had the ladies beside me, and in confidence pour
ing their secrets into my ears. Richmond to be evacu
ated! Its overthrow was just a foregone conclusion, — a
question of time. Mrs. Helm was fleeing to the White
House, and the others to Quincy, Illinois. But by and
by they "dropped onto me," as the boys say, and flew
to their rooms like wild birds.

On my way up the Chesapeake bay, I got off at
Point Lookout, imparted to the commander what I had
gathered from my rebel friends, of the probable immi-

180 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED.

nent fall of Richmond, and went on my way toward my
adopted New England home.

Fall of Richmond, April 2d.

Arrived in New York on Saturday night, April 1st.
The city had been in a blaze of flags, banners, and
streamers for two months or more. Now the crisis is at
hand. Morning came, April 2d. "We hastened to Sulli
van Street church. People held their breath. Sullivan
Street church is A. M. E., and of course the people were
anxious. I said, "I'll go back and see what I can
learn. Wait ye here." I hastened, and learned that
Eichmond had just fallen. I speedily returned, and
found the minister just reading his first hymn. I paid
no attention to minister, hymn, or anything else, but

" EICHMOND HAS GONE UP!"

Eunning up into the pulpit, — "Eichmond has gone up!"
The hymn book dropped! The minister stood entranced!
A wail— a shout— a shriek of " H AL-LELU J AH ! ! "
swept through the house, into the street and through
the city like the shout of victorious armies.

We arrived in Williamsburg, Massachusetts, on the
14th of April, and early next morning learned of the

ASSASSINATION OF THE PRESIDENT

the night before, at Ford's theatre. At the moment of
our grandest achievement the country was stricken with

" HOW ARE THE MIGHTY FALLEN!" 181

deepest grief. Appropriate services were everywhere
held in honor of the country's illustrious dead — for
expression of the people's unbounded grief. Boston,
New York, Philadelphia and other cities which but a
few weeks before were red with expressions of victory
and joy, were now black with insignia of the deepest
grief. Men and women received and breathed the
inspiration of the hour; and the spirit of prophecy
caught the rebel mind, and rebel ladies and gentlemen,
before they were aware, were swelling the airs, — the an
thems of the Republic, — chanting the dirge to our fallen
illustrious hero ; — and they too were among the prophets.

I hastened to New Haven, Connecticut, and there in
speech, in song, — with appropriate services we poured
out our sorrow — "Hoiv are the MIGHTY FALLEN!" In
Boston during the May meetings I listened to the ever-
memorable

ORATION or HON. CHARLES SUMNER,
in celebration of the life and death of America's noblest
son, before fifteen thousand people in Music Hall.

And here I will close this record, this history
of my life, for there is no need to dwell upon my con
tinued work for the good of the Africo-Arnerican
people, and my private sorrows and joys cannot interest
the world. I am old and lonely, and looking back upon
the past, I

APPEKDIX.

June, 1877, found roe again laboring for the good
of the Africo- American people. The Providence (R.
J.) Journal said: —

THE ELEVATION or THE COLORED RACE. — Mr. William
Troy, of Richmond, Va., and Mr. John Gains, of Boston,
formerly of Petersburg, Va., addressed an audience of
colored persons in the vestry of the Congdon Street church,
last evening, upon the elevation of the colored people in the
South. They took the ground that if the colored people
are to reach a higher plane of life than at present exists
among them in the Southern states, they must attain to it
by their own exertions, aided by those of their colored
brethren in the North. They regarded the colored men and
women in the North morally bound by the ties of blood, to
take hold of this work, and believed further that they were
called of God to go South, and to teach, preach and set good
examples in all departments of life, by which the freedmen
may profit, for their future good.

The meeting was held in the interests of the Moore
Street Industrial Society of Richmond, Va., of which Mr.
Troy is vice-president, and it is proposed to form an auxil
iary society of colored people in this city at an early day.
Rev. Calvin Fairbank, of Richmond, Va., Superintendent
and General Agent of the Moore Street Society, who was

183

184 APPENDIX.

for more than seventeen years a prisoner in Kentucky, and
received a great number of lashes for aiding fugitive slaves
to escape, was present, and occupied a seat upon the plat
form. Previous to the close of the meeting resolutions
were adopted, in substance as follows:

First — That in view of the needy condition of the people of
Richmond, Va., and the comparative ability of the people of the
Northern States, a very moderate united effort upon the part of the
people of the latter States would greatly relieve the people in the
needy districts of the South, and bring joy to the hearts of their
friends.

Second — That we feel the utmost confidence in the Moore Street
Industrial Missionary Society of Richmond, Va., as represented by
its worthy and able Superintendent and General Agent, Rev. Calvin
Fairbank, and Rev. Wm. Troy, its vice-president; and we hereby
pledge our hearty co-operation therewith in attaining the end it pro
poses, viz.; the elevation and cultivation of the people of color in
that vicinity in the arts and sciences and the industrial avocations.

Another meeting will be held at the Pend Street Free
Baptist church next Monday evening, for the purpose of
taking steps toward the organization of an auxiliary society.

And in my loneliness, and looking back upon the
sunny days of the past, I wrote, through the Newport
(Rhode Island) Daily News:

To the Editor of the Daily News :

I am pleased that in taking account of the events of the
week the journalists for the people have not forgotten
the history of our past, which has moulded and constituted
the present, nor the eventful experience of some of us yet
rejoicing in its happy results to the country and the people.

At this date, looking back to the time when my boy
heart bounded with hot blood for poor suffering humanity,
the uprising public sentiment against an institution which

APPENDIX. 185

had brought mildew upon the social, political and moral
'condition of a great section of our country,— the goal just
within my reach, the voluntary sacrifice I made upon the
altar of duty, the novel events that have attended my life up
to the present, I do not wonder that it has often been said
of it that " truth is stranger than fiction "

I hold in my hand a clipping from the Liberator of
November, 1851, containing a letter of my own published
in Frederic Douglass' paper. I hold in my hand a clip
ping from the Chicago Tribune of 1864, rehearsing the
sacrifice, the tragedy, the outrage, the long, long-continued
suffering in prison, the constancy of woman and the "roman
tic history" — that through those long, hopeless years when
my life was covered like the dead beneath the wave, she
having left her own New England home to watch over me,
waited and watched from the Ohio side the ebb and flow of
the tide of public sentiment, ministered to my comfort,
pleaded my cause, and when released as a result of the
national struggle in 1864 received me to "nurse me back to
life again."

I hold in my hand a clipping from the Rochester
Democrat of January, 1866 — " Seventeen years struck out of
a man's life, during which his classmates have entered the
world and built up fame and fortune, is of itself a very
serious matter; but, when you make them seventeen years
of toil as hard as ever slave performed, and torture as keen
and continuous as was ever inflicted upon a prisoner

" Since man first pent his fellow men
Like brutes within an iron den,"

it becomes a martyrdom more heroic than his who falls at
the cannon's mouth:" and, "He kept an account every day
on the wall of his cell, and thus knows that he received in

186 APPENDIX.

all about thirty-five thousand stripes." And, O, I recall
distinctly the manner, the animus, the causeless cause for
thirty-five thousand one hundred and five stripes during
eight years, with the strap of half-tanned leather from one-
fourth to three-eighths of an inch in thickness, eighteen.
- inches in length and one and a half inch in width, and
attached to a convenient handle, — on my bare body — with
all the might and malice of a human brute, simply for the
ostensible reason that I did not execute the task assigned
me, when it was emphatically out of my power. Says the
Democrat, " And when he described his daily round of life
there — the cruelties of the taskmaster, the hopelessness of
escape or release, and the strong temptation to suicide, his,
words rose into eloquence which is possible only when a
speaker describes what he himself has experienced." He
says, "horrible and heart sickening!"

Then, here is "Pharaoh out-done," from the American
Baptist, of 1864, and here is "Died in his cell," by a reporter,
Anderson Elijah "Whipped blind and senseless." And it
was true.

Now I hold a letter, "O darling, I shall get well; — shall
be as well as anybody; and shall bring up our boy." And
now the loving letter of my precious boy of nine years,,
signed "Your loving Callie."

And now, — Hampshire Gazette, Williamsburg, — Death
of Mrs. Fairbank, — Mundana, wife of Calvin Fairbank —
after a year's sickness, —quick consumption, — died in her
chair, suddenly. Mrs. Fairbank wan one of the finest
of women — patient, self-sacrificing, tireless in effort, unceas
ing in care. September 29, 1876." These are all facts to
me. But to the world before the stage they must seem
more like fiction. Especially to persons below the age of

APPENDIX. 187

twenty-five, this, with the institution with which it was con
nected must appear like a tale that is told.

Now, again, I am called into the field for that same
people for whom I have been willing in the past to risk so
much of time, and position, and name, and liberty, and
health, and even life itself. In noticing our effort, I see
that it is recognized as in the main a Baptist effort. It is
not denominational at all. There are among its officers and
board of directors people of all Protestant bodies; and some
of no denomination ; all aiming at education in every depart
ment of human life and character. The purpose is, 1st,
To furnish a school for the many poor who are without
school, there being not enough in the city ; 2d, To form a
nucleus of education in the industrial avocations, also, as
soon as may be; and 3d, To secure a model institution in
addition to those already doing their work in training those ''
who are to lead society. Yours truly,

CALVIN FAIRBANK.

P. S. Our institution is the Moore Street Missionary
Society of Kichmond, Virginia, and situated within the city*

The Soldier's Award.

BY REV. CALVIN FAIRBANK.

The sentinel stood at his post,

Nor heeded the storm and cold;
But paced his beat
Through snow and sleet,

Cautiously treading with weary feet

' Till the reveille was told.

188 APPENDIX.

The storm swept fiercely on: —
The wife and darlings three

Were thinking — Where

Does the soldier share
Shelter and rest, or the bleak wild air ?
And where shall his burial be ?

The sound of the battle's horn
Rang shrill on the slumbering host,

And that home was bright

All that anxious night,
Watching the march and the terrible fight
Of the soldier they loved most.

Where, now, are the men of "Lang Syne?"
And the women so faithful and brave ?

When the storm beats high

In the soldier's sky,

As he tenderly breathes a homeward sigh
On the mouth of a soldier's grave.

See! plying the busy thread

By a thousand hearth-stones bright:

And the air was still,

Save the pratt'ling rill, —
Or the town-clock o'er the distant hill
Strikes the signal of the night.

' Twas one by the signal stroke ;
And the weary, faithful, brave,

Were plying the thread,

For the living or dead,
To pillow the patriot soldier's head,
In his tent, or in his grave.

APPENDIX. 189

Hark! Hark! What means such haste ?
The battle is high! — they fight!

Quick! — sound the alarm!

Rouse ye, and arm!

From cottage and plain; from store and farm,
To the front! to the front to-night!
Now holds high carnival
The fiend of the battle's ire,

Whose fingers in blood

From the sat'rd flood,
Which sinks away in the satured mud,
Swell the dirge o'er the patriot pyre.

On that victorious field

' Gainst treason's remorseless strife,

Lie husband and sire,

Piled, stretched in the mire,
While the joy at home wait and gaze in the fire,
His cherubs and faithful wife.
The smoke of the battle is gone: —
There's a hearth-stone, a chair and a name;

But the hearth- stone and chair —

There's a vacancy there;
And the sleeve which hangs armless there no arm

to wear,

No wealth, but his valor and fame.
He has rescued the flag of the free, —
Has restored to his country her fame;

But her glory and power

Shall they fade like a flower ?
And her watch-word and signal be changed in an

hour?
And liberty left but a name ?

190 APPENDIX.

His award — what of that ? Shall it be
That his crutch and sleeve are no more

To be seen at the gate

Of the temple of State;
But the foeman who smote him in combat shall

wait
Where the patriot waited of yore ?

God forbid that the miscreant arm
That periled our flag on that day —

Nor a traitor's h'and

Of the rebel band

Shall guard the doors of this sacred land,
Or bear her glory away.

But the hero — the citizen leal
Keep vigils from sun to the sea;

And our watch- word shall stand

As a sign o'er the land;

And our segis of power be borne by the hand
Of loyalty, faithful and free.

A Much-Whipped Clergyman.

New York Letter to Indianapolis News.

4 A man of venerable aspect walked past John L. Sullivan
in Broadway. The contrast in physique and apparent men
tality was vast.

"I say, John," remarked a companion of the prize
fighter, "there goes the most whipped man on earth."

"Has that old fellow been a professional?" Sullivan
asked, a little disdainfully.

APPENDIX. 191

"Yes, a professional clergyman," was the reply. "He
is Calvin Fairbank, and he has received over thirty thousand
lashes on his bare back."

There was no exaggeration in that statement. Fairbank
was involved in the escape of nearly half a hundred negro
slaves from Kentucky. He was convicted of forty -seven of
these acts — or crimes, the law said — and sentenced to im
prisonment and whipped separately for each. Between
1844 and 1862, when Lincoln released him, he was regularly
whipped every month. He now lives at Angelica, N. Y.,
but sometimes comes to town to visit his fellow ministers at
the Methodist Book Concern. His official whippings were
only severe at the outset, and during the last ten years of
his imprisonment amounted to hardly anything in physical
torture, although degrading to his pride.

May 14, 1890.— After all these years of toil I hold
in my hand a card: —

MR. AND MRS. GEORGE W. WALKER

REQUEST THE PLEASURE OF YOUR COMPANY AT THE MARRIAGE
OF THEIR DAUGHTER

SARAH

TO

CALVIN C. FAIRBANK,
WEDNESDAY AFTEBNOON, MAY TWENTY-FIEST,

AT THEEE O'CLOCK,

AT THEIB EESIDENOE

SAYBROOK, CONNECTICUT.

1890.

My life, so far, has been a success. When I
entered the field for the oppressed, I counted on re-

192 APPENDIX.

proach, poverty, and final triumph; and expected to
"suffer the loss of all things, that I might win Christ.
I have fought a good fight. I have [nearly] finished
my course. I have kept the faith. Henceforth there
is laid up for me a crown of righteousness."

STATEMENT BY LAURA S. HAVILAND.

It has been the expressed wish of the author of
this little book, Calvin Fairbank, and his friends that
I should add a few incidents in regard to his mar
tyrdom; for such it was, as truly as Elijah P. Love joy,
Charles T. Torr^r, and many others who suffered and
died on slavery's bloody altar, for obeying the "Higher
Law" which they conscientiously believed to be God's
law of Eternal Eight. Fifty, forty, or thirty years
ago, /K cost everything to the few who dared occupy
this broad standpoint, and carry out in all their
life work, these grand, heaven-born principles. It
cost "Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness," to
those who dared advocate the "Fatherhood of God,
and the Brotherhood of man."

In retrospect, this vast field rises before me a won
derful panorama, from ocean to ocean, from the lakes
to the gulf, with its ever-changing dissolving views.
Here and there a cyclone appeared in our moral
horizon; darker, and darker still the portentous clouds
overshadowed our beloved country. Amid these clouds,
is 193

194 APPENDIX.

a mysterious letter fell into Levi Coffin's hands. He
took it to Dr. Brisbane, Edward Harwood, Lawyer
Jollif, and others, but no one could define it; but as it
came from Louisville jail, all decided that some one
was in trouble. But who ? was the question. It was
signed six, and eight dots, with, "These dots spell my
name." As I had been on College Hill a few weeks,
caring for a sick lady, and returned to Levi's (in whose
family I made my home four years, about half the time
nursing the sick, the other half aiding escaping slaves)
—"There, Laura, is a problem for thee to solve —
we've all had our hand at it."

And that apostle of freedom brought me the open
letter.

I said, " Calvin Fairbank, that fills the dots.
Poor man, he's there in trouble!"

"I did not know," said Levi, "that he was any
where in this part of the country."

"He called here in thy absence, on his way to take
his father's remains back home; and some poor slave
has appealed to him for help; and he never turns one
away."

A few weeks later, a colored man who had been in
Louisville jail under suspicion of being a slave, but
had proven his freedom, and been released, came to
Levi's home. By him Calvin sent word that he was

APPENDIX. 195

suffering from cold, and unless he could have quilt,
blanket, and woolen underwear he must perish.
Weather very cold. The river frozen over in some
places. This colored man told us Calvin had only a
pile of filthy straw in his cell. This was truly distress
ing. Under circumstances of great excitement over
him, they had found out who he was, and four weeks
previously Williams from Massachusetts was hung near
Baltimore by a mob, without judge or jury, because he
followed a kidnaper of two little girls, of free parents in
Pennsylvania, who were enticed by a peddler, who had
sold them in Baltimore, Maryland. Great excitement
over that occurrence. And but two weeks before, a
Mr. Conklin was overtaken in Yincennes, Indiana, with
the wife and four children of an escaped slave, and all
were taken to a boat going down the river ; but as they
were near being overtaken for kidnaping Conklin from
Indiana they bound him in ropes and threw him
in the river, where he was found a few days later.
Here, too, was a source of great excitement in both
sections of our country, North and South.

Now, with all these dark clouds over us, who would
be safe in relieving our suffering brother Rev. Calvin
Fairbank? This was a question hard to solve from
human standpoint. After a few days of prayer, I
reached the conclusion to go with the unerring Guide

196 APPENDIX.

who said to those on the right, "Naked, and ye clothed
me: I was sick and ye visited me: I was in prison and
ye came unto me."

"Levi and Catharine, I am going to Louisville jail,
and relieve our brother Calvin Fairbank. I am con
fident I shall safely return."

"I don't know, Laura, but thou art the very one to
go," said Levi in his careful, moderate way.

" And I have a trunk and a warm quilt to put in it,"
rejoined Catharine.

Levi called on Captain Barker, who gave half -fare
ticket on Ben Franklin No. 2 to leave next day at two
p. M. Friends filled the trunk, paid my fare, and sent
fourteen dollars to Calvin for a little pocket change.
Melancthon Henry (the son of Patrick Henry by a
slave girl, who was freed by him, with the child, and
left by will, a nice little property), when he placed
three dollars in my hand, said, "I know you are going
into the lions' den, and I pray they may not close their
teeth upon you. Be as wise as the serpent without the
poison, and that is harmless as the dove."

At last Levi called on Dr. Brisbane, who expressed
great surprise that any one knowing all the circum
stances should have given me a word of encouragement.
"For it will never do for her to go at this juncture.
Eemember Williams, and Conklin ! ! And very likely

APPENDIX. 197

she will share the same fate. If she goes, I doubt
whether we shall ever see her again. Tell her she
must not go. I fear it will be at the peril of her life."

Levi did the errand.

"I see no geographical lines drawn in my Bible,
and I am free to go."

.Captain Barker gave me a note of introduction to
Colonel Buckner, the jailor, that I presented the follow
ing morning, before sunrise, and was politely received,
and introduced to his wife and daughter; also the
Colonel's wife's sister, and her daughter (from Boston
on a visit), making quite a social circle.

I at once made my errand known, and delivered the
trunk to the Colonel, who looked it over — not that he
expected to find anything improper for a prisoner to
receive, but this was his duty as a keeper (rather
apologetically). I also made known my prospect of
returning at four P. M. on the same boat.

"But why return so soon?"

"Because my errand will have been accomplished;
my ticket takes me back free."

"I'll see the sheriff and find out if I can take you
in to Fairbank. As there was great excitement over
his arrest, I dare not take you in without his approval."

He soon returned with the report that the sheriff
was out in the country for two or three days.

198 APPENDIX.

"You certainly ought not to leave without seeing
Fairbank, and I reckon there will be no difficulty as
soon as I can see him, and you can stay with us just
as well as not; it shall not cost you a cent; it is just as
free as air."

I told him my friends would be there when the boat
was due to meet me.

"But you can write them a note and I'll take it to
the boat myself."

I consented for Calvin's sake.

During three days' waiting for the sheriff, great
pains was taken to secure a private interview, by notes
between Calvin and myself. A prisoner was released,
and pretended to be in confidence with Fairbank, and
brought me the name of the place where was Tamar's
trunk with valuable articles that he wished me to for
ward to her; and wanted to know if I knew of such and
such names. I told him I knew nothing of those
names, neither could I have anything to do about the
trunk. I told him I did not know but the girl had been
arrested with Fairbank, until I came here. (I learned
afterward that Shotwell, the man who lost the girl, had
paid him three hundred dollars to do all he could to
find Tamar. ) After failing to get any clue from me,
he went on to Indiana to meet another failure.

During this waiting to see the sheriff, great effort

APPENDIX. 199

was made to convince me of the wickedness of aboli
tion principles. One appalling feature was, my aboli
tion principles would lead to amalgamation! "As for
that, amalgamation belongs on your side of the house.
You have more than five hundred cases of amalgama
tion to our one in the North. You know there are those
who claim as property their own flesh and blood. And
this is found here in your own city Louisville. In this
statement I am fearless of successful contradiction."

Giving his shoulders a shrug, the Colonel replied,
UI know it is a most woful fact."

One argument among the many he referred me
to, was of a slave man who was enticed away from
Mr. Adams of South Carolina, who spent the evening
with us in the parlor, to whom I was introduced. He
seemed quite a jolly sort of a man, and it was no wonder,
after finding his Jack and the "pile of money" (as he
called it) in the jailor's hands. The next day, Colonel
Buckner, pointing to a black man in his yard, said,—

"Now, I want to show you just what your abolition
principles lead to. That negro Jack belongs to Mr.
Adams, and a man went to him alone, and asked him if
he would not like to be free, and be his own master.
Jack said yes. * Then you come to me by that big
tree near the road, about eleven o'clock to-night, and
~se can travel all night and lay by in the day, and I'll

200 APPENDIX.

take you through to Canada. There you'll be a free
man.' And the plan was followed. After they had
traveled two or three nights, he proposed to Jack, to
allow him to assume to be his master, and let him sell
him in the next town; then he could run away again,
and he would watch for him behind some big tree or
log; then he would give him half the money he got for
him, and that would give him quite a start in his new
home in Canada. This plan was adopted, and this gave
Jack quite a pile of money. But this was not the end
of sales. By the time they got here he had sold Jack
seven times. After he had been here in jail about three
days, Jack told me all about it. And I took charge of
his pile of money, and wrote his master, and he just
got here yesterday, and he's going to go around town
with Jack to see if he can get sight of the rogue that
enticed him away."

After listening to his story all through, said I,
" That is not the work of an Abolitionist."

" Oh, yes, he told Jack he was an Abolishioner."
" That may be, but that man was a rogue of the
darkest hue, and ought to have boen here in jail instead
of Jack. You can see for yourself, if he had been true
to Jack, he would have left the river before reaching
this place, and have been 011 their way to Canada; but
110 — he was taking him down the river to a more

APPENDIX. 201

southern market, where he would have sold Jack for
the last time, taken possession of Jack's 'pile of money,'
.and fled to parts unknown. I care not what he called
Mmself, he was a hypocrite, and a villain, and is worthy
of severe punishment."

On this Sabbath morning Bert Franklin No. 2 was
in port, and I was ready to leave, and the Colonel had
heard nothing from the sheriff yet.

" I do not like to see you go without seeing Fair-
bank, and I've a great mind to risk it any how. Come
on."

And we soon stood before the forty slaves who
were there, not because they had committed anything
wrong, but were placed there by a trader, for safe
keeping, until he had gathered up his gang for the lower
market.

Calling for Fairbank, as I met him amid all this
crushing bitterness, with these forty sad faces before
us, I could not withhold tears. He was brave and said,
"Let us keep good courage. I think I shall be released
when the trial comes off. I want you to see my lawyer,
Mr. Thruston."

"But his figures, seven hundred dollars, are too
high for us in Cincinnati to reach ; and I am not pre
pared to indemnify a lawyer, and have no liberty what
ever to do it."

202 APPENDIX.

"But he may throw off a few hundred dollars, if you
see him. Don't go without seeing Mr. Thruston."

To add to these pleading words while pressing my
hand in both of his, Colonel Buckner with tearful eyes
said,

" Mrs. Haviland, I reckon it's your duty to stop
over, and see Fairbank's lawyer; you can remain with
us, or go to Dr. Fields as Fairbank suggests ; and wait
for the boat to make another trip."

As I felt he would be sacrificed, as others had beenr
and probably this would be the last favor he would
ever receive, I gave way, and told him I would remain,
and see his lawyer.

As the time had already been extended beyond the
limit given, and we were about to leave, Calvin looked
at four men standing near us, and asked if I knew
them. I nodded a recognition, but no word could be
spoken. They were self -freed slaves for years, but had
been captured. They were in tears. As we were
passing out, the Colonel asked if I could go to their
apartments alone.

"Certainly."

The officers beckoned to see me a moment, and I
passed on and met their slave man.

"Did you (in undertone) see Fairbank?" I nodded
assent.

APPENDIX 203

"Glorious!" (hardly above a whisper).

As I was passing through the hall, their slave Mary,
in a whisper I could hear, "Did you see him?" As I
nodded an assent — "Good! good!"

A few minutes elapsed, and the jailor came in tremb
ling, and pale as a sick man, and said,

" Mrs. Haviland, I fear I shall not be able to pro
tect you longer. These officers are for arresting you
at once. They asked if I did not see the effect upon
those forty slaves, the moment that lady entered the
jail. I told them I did not, as my attention was
directed to you and Fairbank. They said it was like
an electric shock, upon those slaves; and then those
four men just stood there and cried. ' They know her,
and it's very plain to be seen, that she is a dangerous
person and ought to be in this jail, as well as Fairbank.' ''

" Colonel Buckner, I am just as safe here as if in
my room in Cincinnati. The God of Daniel is here,
and if your officers should arrest me at this hour, you
would not keep me in your jail three days. You know
my business here. Should they arrest me this moment,
I should not be the least excited. I have nothing to
fear whatever."

And he became more calm, and remarked, " It is a
glorious thing to feel like this. There has been a great
deal of excitement ; they had you reported in the papers

204 APPENDIX.

as Delia Webster [ a lady who had been arrested for
the same offense in that state]. I got a gentleman who
knew her, to call and see you the other evening. He
told me as he passed out, that he would call on those
editors and disabuse them at once, and tell them there
was nothing to fear from Mrs. Haviland. And he did
quiet them. But I reckon you had better go imme
diately to Jeffersonville, and not cross over on this side
on any account. It will not be safe for you to set foot
on Kentucky soil."

He had suggested going with me to the ferry, but
said, "It would be safer for you to go alone, as these
officers now know you are with me."

" Very well; " and I left the troubled jailor. As I
passed through a company of men in front of a large
hotel, I heard one say,

"Great excitement in town to-day."

"Yes, sir; you'll see a squad of men at every street
corner. The whole city seems to be astir this morning."

I smiled, and said to myself, you have no idea it is
this little rusty woman, you are making this flurry
over.

After crossing the river, I inquired for Dr. Fields,
and was shown the house. As I reached the gate, I
inquired of a company standing on the porch, if this
was Dr. Fields' residence.

APPENDIX. 205

"Yes, I'm a Jason. Come on, Mrs. Haviland.
We've been looking for you daily, for the week past."

"How is this?"

" We'll show you a file of papers, with notes of
threats each day since you have been in Louisville."

I told him all these had been carefully kept from
me, until I was about leaving, when the jailor got
frightened and told me not to set foot again on Kentucky
soil, and he would see Mr. Thruston and send him over
to see me.

" The jailor lied, for he knew he had been sick two
weeks. Also lied about the sheriff, for he was there all
the time, and I know it."

I sent a note to Lawyer Thrustoii, and he returned
the message, to come and see him, and he would stand
between me and all harm.

The doctor gave me an umbrella to shield me from
the jail, as well as the storm, as I had to pass the jail to
go to Lawyer Thruston 's, who told me to collect for
him whatever was convenient, and he would do the
best he could for Calvin Fairbank, and I returned to
our "Jason" without harm.

The doctor (who, like Dr. Brisbane, and James G.
Birney, had set his slaves free, and moved out of Ken
tucky on account of slavery) and family were so kind
it seemed like an oasis in a desert.

206 APPENDIX.

When the boat made her trip the second time I was
ready, and was met by Levi Coffin at the wharf.

""Well, Laura, we've had a time over thee. Dr.
Brisbane and James G. Birney have been sick over
thee. The doctor has been so distressed he could
hardly eat or sleep."

They appointed a reception at a private house, and
we rejoiced together, with the mixture of sorrow over
Calvin's sad prospects. They received no note from me,
only threats in those papers.

After the mock trial and his sentence was pro
nounced, he wrote a letter to Mandana Tileston (his
affianced), that he would release her from their engage
ment. But she replied,

"If you out-live your term, if I marry any man, it
will be Calvin Fairbank." And the noble woman
watched and waited all those years, to nurse him back
to life, after receiving over one hundred terrible whip-
! pings, that counted, all told, thirty-five thousand one
hundred and five lashes on his bare flesh. I have heard
i him say, it seemed to him that every ten strokes were
equal to a death. He has often said, had he not
inherited an iron constitution he must have sunk under
those years of cruel treatment. But to show how little
of bitterness he retained, as he was passing along the
street in Cincinnati, he saw Zeb "Ward and his wife

APPENDIX. 207

thrown from their carriage into a ditch. He ran to
their relief, and told Ward he would assist his wife to a
surgeon's office across the street, as she was badly hurt.
After placing her in the hands of the surgeon, Fairbank
returned to see what he could do for Ward. As Ward
looked at him, in surprise, he said "Fairbank, is
that you?"

"Yes."

"Why! I should have thought you would have
killed me, instead of helping me." And took from his
purse a roll of bills, — "There is one hundred dollars —
take that."

"Oh, no, I don't ask anything for helping any one
in trouble."

"I tell you to take it."

"I made one hundred dollars last evening by talk
ing about you, and I have another meeting this evening,
and I shall talk about you again."

"I don't care for that. I tell you to take this."

"And I did take it, with thanks."

/

I hope and trust this little sketch of Eev. Calvin

Fairbank' s thrilling life will find an abundant sale to
aid him now in his broken-down, destitute, infirm

old age of seventy-four years.

^

LAURA S. HAVILAND.

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