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HARVARD
COLLEGE
LIBRARY

IT X

HARVARD
COLLEGE
LIBRARY

-«»

f .

REMINISCENCES

LEVI COFFIN.

The Reputed President of the Under^ound Railroad;

BEING

k BRIEF HISTORY OF THE LABORS OF A LIFETIME IN BS-
HALFOFTHE SLAVE, WITH THE STORIES OF NUMER-
OUS FUGITIVES, WHO GAINED THEIR FREEDOM
THROUGH HIS INSTRUMENTALITY, AND
MANY OTHER INCIDENTS.

SECOND EDITIOX— WITH APPENDIX.

CINCINNATI:

ROBERT CLARKE & CO.

1880.

(H^yy^i

cM^i^

^,.

11 PREFACE.

Style, I have endeavored to tell the stories without any exaggera.
lion. Errors no doubt will appear, which I trust the indulgent
reader will pardon, in consideration of my advanced age and fee-
bleness. It is here proper also to acknowledge the valuable services
of a kind friend, for aid received in preparing these pages for the
press. I regret that I have been obliged to leave out many inter-
esting stories and thrilling incidents, on account of swelling the
size and cost of the book beyond what was agreed upon with the
publishers. Among the stories omitted is the account of the long
imprisonment and sufferings of Calvin Fairbank, of Massachusetts,
in the Kentucky penitentiary, for aiding fugitives, and of Richard
Dillingham, of Ohio, who suffered and died in the penitentiary at
Nashville, Tennessee, for a similar offense.

Some time ago I requested my dear old friend and co-laborer in
the cause of the slave, Dr. \Vm. Henry Brisbane, to write a few
introductory words for my book, which I here introduce as part of
the preface :

My very dear old friend has requested me to write some intro-
ductory words, or preface, for his book; and I can not do justice
to .my own most affectionate feelings toward him and his amiable
wife, dear "Aunt Katy," without complying with his request and
accepting the honor thus conferred upon me.

I have in my possession a picture, executed by Mr. Ball, a col-
ored man from Virginia. The central figure is a native of Soulh
Carolina, a representative of the old planter class of that State,
who manumitted his slaves many years before the Emancipation
Proclamation of President Lincoln. On each hand sits with him
a friend and Christian brother — the one, a sedate, benevolent-look-
ing Quaker, a native of North Carolina, and a faithful representa-
tive of that class known as Orthodox Friends; the other, with a
countenance full of humor and amiable mischief, a native of Rhode
Island, and a true representative of the old Roger Williams class
of Soul-Liberty Baptists. The cause of the slave brought into a
most intimate and happy friendship these three men of diverse
origin, training, habits of life, temperament, disposition and other
personal characteristics. For many years they labored and suffered

PREFACE. iil

together for those in bonds as bound with them. In Christian love
they bowed themselves before their Heavenly Father and prayed
together for the oppressed race; with a faith that knew no waver-
ing they worked in fraternal union for the enfranchisement of their
drspised colored brethren, arid shared together the odium attached
to the name of abolitionist, and finally they rejoiced together and
gave thanks to God for the glorious results of those years of per-
severing effort. The youngest of these has gone to his reward in
heaven, and those who knew Edward Harwood can not wonder
that the other two loved him with a love that was more than a
brother's. The oldest — the placid, the benevolent, the kind-
hearted and devoted friend of the slave, and of all mankind —
Levi Coffin, still lives to give, for the benefit of humanity, the
reminiscences of his experiences, so full of interesting incidents
and touching pathos. The other survivor thanks God with all his
heart that his dear brother has been spared to leave this valuable
record as a legacy to his thousands of friends, white and black, in
this our beloved country, redeemed from the curse of slavery with
the atoning blood of many a battle-field.

And now, with no more fugitives to hide, and no clanking
chains to disturb our peaceful old age, I subscribe myself,

P'raternally and lovingly his,

WM. HENRY BRISHANE.

Cincinnati, Ohio, June 17, 1876.

Trusting that this volume will accomplish something toward the

eradication of the spirit of caste, which still exists in our land —

though, in the providence of God, slavery itself has been removed —

and in the acceptance and practice of that command, which reads:

"Love thy neighbor as thyself,'* I now commend it to the reader.

LEVI COFFIN.
Cincinnati, Eighth Monih^ 1876.

CONTENTS.

INTRODUCTORY CHAFFER.
Genealogy ^ 3-II

CHAPTER I.

Conversion to Abolitionism — Incidents of the Cruelties of
Slavery — First Efforts on Behalf of the Slaves — Stephen,
the Kidnapped Negro— The Captured Slave — Services
of Vestal Coffin— The Story of Ede— The White Slave..~i2-3l

CHAPTER II.

The Story of Jack Barnes — My Journey with a Slave-owner —
A Mission Full of Anxiety — The Story of Sam — I Turn
Slave-hunter — Narrow Escape from Arrest — Penalty of
Aiding aShive — Fate of Poor Sam 32-68

CHAPTER III.

Teaching Slaves to Read — Sabbath-School Work — Agitatior
of the Anti-Slavery Cause— Manumission Societies— Trip
to Indiana — Incidents on the Way — The Early Settle-
ments of Indiana — I Engage in School Labors — Organi-
zation of the lirst Sabbath-School in Western Indiana —
A Visit to Illinois — Lost on the Prairie — Springfield,
Illinois, Fifty Years Ago — Conclusion of School Labors
in Indiana — Return to North Carolina — Short Trip to
Virginia. 69-ioa

CHAI>TER IV.

Marriage — Removal to Indiana — I Locate at Newport and
Engage in Mercanlile Business — Underground Railroad
Work — Difficulties and Dangers of the Work— Trip to
North Carolina — Heart-rending Scene at a Slave Auction
—Temperance Work at Newport ••..103-138

▼» CONTENTS.

CHAPTER V.

Newport Stories — The Cunning Slave — Robert Barrel— Eliza
Harris— Sam, the Eloquent Slave — Prejudice Against
Color — Aunt Rachel — A Slave-hunter Outwitted —
Seventeen Fugitives '139-177

CHAPTER VI.

Newport Stories Continued— Seventeen Fugitives— Two Slave
Girls from Maryland — Anecdote of a Visit to Cincinnati
—-Story of Louis Talbert - John White 178-222

CHAPTER VH.

Discussion of the Anti-Slavery Subject— Anti-Slavery Societies
and Lecturers— Opposition to the Movement — Separa-
tion of Friends of Indiana Yearly Meeting — Action
which Caused the Separation— Reunion — The Committee
from London Yearly Meeting — Interviews with the
Committee — Last Interview with William Forster^
Visit to Canada in 1844 — Meetings with Fugitives —
Their Stories — A Special Providence — Aunt Susie's
Dream — The Story of Jackson — A Mother Rescues her
Children 223-264

CHAPTER Vin.

Free Labor— Testimony of John Woolman and Others — My
Convictions — Free-Labor Societies of New York and
Philadelphia — Our Organization in the West — Removal
to Cincinnati — Free-Labor Business — Southern Cotton
Produced by Free Labor — Incidents of a Southern Trip
— Interviews with Slaveholders 265*296

CHAPTER IX.

Underground Railroad Work in Cincinnati — A Reminiscence
— The Fugitive Cook Girl — A Company of Twenty-eight
Fugitives — Aunt Betsey — Jack and Lucy — Assessments
on Underground Railroad Stock — A Pro-Slavery Man
Silenced— The Story of Jane... « 297-334

CONTENTS. VII

CHAPTER X.

Cincinnati Stories Continued — The Rag Baby — The Vice-
President's Slave— The Disguised Slave — Wolves in
Sheep's Clothing — Sally, the Slave Mother— Louis and
Ellen — The Michigan Raid 335-373

CHAPTER XI.

Cincinnati Stories Continued — John Wilson and Eliza —
Uncle Tom— Rose, the White Slave— Story of Jim and
his Friend in a Tight Box 374-418

CHAPTER Xn.

Louisa Picquet, the Octoroon — John Fairfield, the Southern
Abolitionist — John and Mary — Narrow Escapes of
P^ugitives 4i9>46i

CHAPTER XHL

A Pro-Slavery Man Turns Abolitionist— Fourteen Fugitives
Cross on the Ice— Slave Children Placed in our Charge —
The Case of William Thompson ..........462-489

CHAPTER XIV.

Major Phillips — A Slaveholder's Colored Family — My Trip
with the Major down the River— Incidents of the Journey
— Discussions with Slaveholders— Insights into Southern
Social Life — A Whipping on Board a Boat.... 490-523

CHAPTER XV.

The Mob Spirit in Cincinnati — Destruction of the Philan-
thropist Press in 1836 — Demonstration of Pro-Slavery
Feeling in 1841— A Disgraceful Riot-TheScanlan Mob.524-541

CHAPTER XVL

Trials Under the Fugitive Slave Law — The Wash. McQuerry
Case — The Sei vices of John JoUiffe — Escape from a
Court Room — The Rosetta Case — Margaret Garner —
The Story of a Hat 542-574

till

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER XVII.

An U. G. R. R. Depot — ^The Purchase of Slaves by their Re-
latives— Other Services for the Colored People — The Case
of Connelly — Sambo in a Tight Box ......575*593

CHAPTER XVIII.

Last Work on the U. G. R. R.— The Prince of Wales -Be-
ginning of the War— Kirby Smith's Threatened Raid —
Rescue of a Slave Girl by Two Union Soldiers — The
Kentucky Policy and Col. Utley*s Action 594-618

CHAPTER XIX.

Work Among the Freedmen -Visit to Cairo— Destitution and
Suffering of the Colored People— Efforts in Their Behalf
— Organization of Relief Societies 619 650

CHAPTER XX.

Mission to England — Labors in Behalf of the Freedmen —
Incidents of the Work- Contributions from all Classes of
Society — Public Meetings 651-712

APPENDIX.

1. Memoir of Richard Dillingham.. •••713-718

2. Memoir of Calvin Fairbank 719-726

3. Death and Funeral of the Author 726-732

INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER.

GENEALOGY.

THE following brief sketch of the Coffin family
is gathered from the first number of the Amer-
ican Historical Record, published at Philadelphia,
and from private records copied from those kept at
Nantucket. The earliest account of the name we
have dates back to 1066. In that year Sir Richard
Coffin, knight, accompanied William the Conqueror
from Normandy to England, and the manor of Al-
wington, in the county of Devonshire, was assigned
to him. The authorities respecting the county of
Devonshire make honorable mention of Sir Elias
Coffin, knight of Clist and Ingarby, in the days of
King John ; of Sir Richard Coffin, of Alwington, in
the time of Henry II. ; of Sir Jcffi-cy Coffin and
Combe Coffin, under Henry III., and of other knights,
descendants of these, until the time of Henry VIII.,
when we find Sir William Coffin, sheriff of Devon-
shire, highly preferred at Court, and one of eighteen
assistants chosen by the king to accompany him to a
tournament in France, in 1519. He was also high
steward of the manor and liberties of Standon, in
Hertford. By his will he bequeathed his horses
and hawks to the king, and devised the manor of
East Higgington, Devonshire, to his nephew, Sir
Richard Coffin, of Portledge. His monument in

(3)

4 QENEALOOY,

Standon Church is mentioned in Weever's "Funeral
Monuments^'* atpage 534.

Nicholas Coffin, of Butler*s parish, in Devonshire,
died in 1603. His will, which was proved at Tot-
ncss, in Devonshire, November 3, 1603, mentions
his wife and five children, viz : Peter, Nicholas, Tris-
ti*am, John and Anne. Peter married Joanna Thim-
ber, and died in 1627, leaving four daughters and
two sons. One of these sons was the famous Tris-
tram Coffin — or Coffyn, as he spelled it — the ancestor
of the numerous families of that name in this country.
Nearly all his descendants are enabled, by means of
the accurate genealogical records in existence, to
trace their lineage back to him, although nearly two
centuries have elapsed since his death. He was born
at Brixton, near Plymouth, in the county of Devon-
shire, England, in the year 1605. He married Dio-
nis Stevens, and in 1642 came to New England,
bringing with him his wife and five children, his
mother and his two sisters. He first settled at Salis-
bury, Massachusetts, where he lived a number of
years, and in 1660 removed, with his family, and set-
tled upon the island of Nantucket. He was one of a
company of nine who first purchased Nantucket from
the Indians, which fact appears in a conveyance from
the Sachems, Wanackmamack, and Nickanoose.
Prior to this purchase from the natives, the Enghsh
title to the greater portion of the island had been
obtained from Thomas Mayhew, who held the same
under a conveyance from Lord Stirling. Tristram
Coffin and his sons at one time owned about one-
fourth of Nantucket, and the whole of the little island

GENEALOGY. 5

adjacent to it on the west, called Tuckemuck, con-
taining one thousand acres, which was purchased of
the old sachem, Potconet. He appears to have been
a leading spirit among the first settlers, and was fre-
cjuently selected by the inhabitants to transact im-
portant public business.

The children of Tristram Coffin were Peter, Tris-
tram, Elizabeth, James, John and Stephen. We
trace our line of the family from John. He married
Deborah Austin ; their son Samuel married Miriam
Gardner; their son William married Priscilla Pad-
dock; their son Levi married Prudence Williams.
These last were my parents, and this places me in
the fifth generation from the first Tristram Coffin, of
Nantucket. The different branches of Tristram Cof-
fin's family have increased and scattered, until there
are representatives in nearly every part of the United
States.

The island of Nantucket being small, and its soil
not very productive, a large number of people could
not be supported thereon, and as the population in-
creased, a number of the men engaged in the whale
fishery and other maritime pursuits, in order to gain
a livelihood. Others turned their attention to other
parts of the country, and were induced to remove
and settle elsewhere, with a view to better their con-
dition, as to providing for their children, etc. Awhile
before the Revolutionary War a considerable colony
of Friends removed and settled at New Garden, in
Guilford County, North Carolina, which was then a
newly settled country. My grandfather, William Cof-
fin, was among those who thus emigrated. His re-

6 GENEALOOr.

moval took place in the year 1773. My grandparents,
William and Priscilla Coffin, had ten children — eight
sons and two daughters — all of whom lived to have
families of their own. They settled at New Garden,
North Carolina, and were all members of the religious
Society of Friends. My father, Levi Coffin, was the
youngest of eight sons and next to the youngest
child. He was born on the island of Nantucket,
10th month, loth, 1763, and was about ten years old
when the family moved to North Carolina. My
grandfather Coffin lived to be eighty-three, and my
grandmother eighty-one years old. Both died in
the year 1803, at the place where they first settled in
North Carolina. I remember them well, though I
was young at the time of their death. Both were
valuable elders in the religious Society of Friends,
and were highly esteemed in the community. Their
house had long been a resort and a place of enter-
tainment for Friends who came into the neighbor-
hood to attend religious meetings, and for traveling
ministers. They lived on a farm, a short distance
from New Garden Meeting-House. My father was
brought up as a farmer, but managed to get a fair
education, considering the limited advantages at that
day, and, when a young man, engaged during the
winter season in teaching school in the neighborhood.
After the marriage of my parents, they settled on a
farm in the neighborhood of New Garden, and I was
brought up as a farmer, until I reached my twenty-
first year. My parents had seven children. I wan
the only son and next to the youngest child. I could
not well be spared from the farm to attend school^

GESEALOOY, j

and the most of my education I obtained at home.
My father took pains to instruct me and my sisters
during his hours of leisure from out-door work, so
that I kept about even with my associates in the
neighborhood who had better opportunities for gain-
ing an education, and during the short intervals that
I attended school, I was classed with them, and often
stood at" the head of my class. But our schools then
were very inferior, compared with those at the pres-
ent. I thirsted for a better education, and as soon
as I was of age I sought a better school than we had
in our neighborhood.

I remained there one session, then engaged as
assistant teacher during the winter session, and the
following winter attended another good school. I
then taught, at intervals, for several years. In the
year i8i6 my ^sister Sarah died. She was in her
twentieth year and two years my senior. This was
a heavy stroke upon me. She was a kind and affec-
tionate sister, and we had been inseparable compan-
ions in our childhood. Although she died rejoicing
in her dear Redeemer, with a bright and glorious
prospect before her, I could not for a long time be
resigned sufficiently to say concerning her loss, **Thy
will, O Lord, not mine, be done.'' My older sisters
were married, and I and my youngest sister Priscilla
were all that were left at home with our pircnls.
Priscilla was three years my junior. She was a sweet
and attractive child, and we were warmly attached to
each other. When she was about twelve years old
she was converted, and at the age of fifteen she
appeared in public testimony. She appeared to have

8 GENEALOOY.

a remarkable gift in the ministry, and her words
impressed all who heard her and touched the hearts
of many. Her mission and labors for several years
seemed to be mostly confined to family circles and
to social gatherings of young people. On such
occasions she was frequently prompted to speak in
a most remarkable manner, and her words seemed
to have great effect on her young associates and
others who heard her. For some years after her
first appearance in the ministry, she spoke but sel-
dom in public assemblies, but when she did, it was
to the edification of her hearers. A few years after-
ward she was recorded as a minister of the religious
Society of Friends.

In the spring of 1825 my parents and sister moved
to the State of Indiana, where my married sisters
had all located. I was then engaged in teaching, but
expected soon to follow with my own little family,
which I did the next year. My sister Priscilla mar-
ried a short time before I removed to Indiana. My
parents were now left alone, and being old and feeble,
I took charge of them and located them near me, in
the village of Newport. My father died in 1833, in
his seventieth year. We then took my mother into
our house and cared for her until the close of her
life. She died in 1845, ^^ her eighty-eighth year.

My mother's family, the Williamses, were of Welsh
extraction. I hive understoo i that my great-grand
father, George Williams, came from Wales to Amer-
ica, and settled in Prince George County, Maryland.
My grandfather, Richard W^illiams, married Pru-
dence Bales, and their oldest two children were born

OENE ALOOF. g

in Maryland. Afterward they emigrated to North
Carolina and settled in Guilford County, about the
year 1752. They located near the place where the
old New Garden Meeting-House now stands, and
where the yearly meeting of the religious Society
of Friends has been held for many years. At the
time of their removal to that neighborhood, it was
thinly settled, but it grew in time to be a large
and prosperous settlement, the members of which
were mostly Friends. My grandparents had many
hardships to encounter and privations to undergo,
such as the first settlers of a new country always
have to experience. When the stock of provisions
which they had brought with them gave out, they
had to go to an older settlement, about fifty miles
distant, to get a new supply. The first winter they
cleared a small piece of land, and in the spring
planted corn and garden seed. Provisions again
became scant, and they had to live on roasting-ears
and vegetables till the corn ripened, being entirely
deprived of bread. As soon as the corn was ripe
enough to shell, they dried it by spreading it on the
ground in the sun, and then took it on horseback to
H mill about thirty miles distant, on Cane Creek,
now in Chatham County. My grandfather Williams
donated the ground on which New Garden Meeting-
House was built, besides several acres of land, cov-
ered with timber sufficient for all building purposes.
The battle of Guilford Court-House, fought about
the close of the Revolutionary War, commenced
near New Garden Meeting-House and continued
along the old Salisbury road, a distance of about

10 OENEALOGV

three miles, to Martinsville, the old Guilford Court-
House, near where the main battle was fought. A
number of soldiers were killed near the meeting-
house and along the road, and were buried by the
roadside and in the Friends' burying ground near
the meeting-house. I have often seen their graves.
After the battle the meeting-house was used as a
hospital for the wounded soldiers, and my grand-
father Williams* house was occupied by the wounded
British officers. My grandfather Coffin's house was
used by the American officers as a hospital for their
sick and wounded. The two farms joined, and the
headquarters of the different forces were thus in
close proximity.

The small-pox broke out among the British offi-
cers, and my grandfather Williams caught the disease
from them and died. My grandmother was left with
twelve children, five sons and seven daughters. She
was sister to Thomas Bales, who is said to have been
the first white emigrant that settled in Ohio. At his
death he was buried in a coffin dug out of a log,
there being no dressed timber available and no saw-
mill within hundreds of miles. His descendants are
quite numerous in the Western States. My grand-
mother remained a widow for the rest of her life.
She lived to a good old age, and died respected by
all who knew her. She was an elder in the religious
Society of Friends for many years, and was highly
esteemed as a *' Mother in Israel." The date of her
death and her age are not in my possession, but I
can remember her well. Most of her children lived

QENEALOOr,

to a good old age, and, with the exception of one
son, all had large families, so that my connections,
on my- mother's side, as well as on my father's, are
quite numerous.

Both my parents and grandparents were opposed
to slavery, and none of either of the families ever
owned slaves; and all were friends of the oppressed,
so I claim that I inherited my anti-slavery principles.

12 REMINISCENCES.

CHAPTER I.

CONVERSION TO ABOLITIONISM — INCIDENTS OF THE
CRUELTIES OF SLAVERY — FIRST EFFORTS ON BE-
HALF OF THE SLAVES — STEPHEN, THE KIDNAPPED
NEGRO — THE CAPTURED SLAVE — SERVICES OF VES-

TAL COFFIN THE STORY OF EDE — THE WHITE

SLAVE.

I DATE my conversion to Abolitionism from an
incident which occurred when I was about seven
years old. It made a deep and lasting impression
on my mind, and created that horror of the cruelties
of slavery which has been the motive of so many
actions of my life. At the time. of which I speak,
Virginia and Maryland were the principal slave-rear-
ing States, and to a great extent supplied the
Southern market. Free negroes in Pennsylvania
were frequently kidnapped or decoyed into these
States, then hurried away to Georgia, Alabama, or
Louisiana, and sold. The gangs were handcufled
and chained together, and driven by a man on horse-
back, who flourished a long whip, such as is used in
driving cattle, and goaded the reluctant and weary
when their feet lagged on the long journey. One
day I was by the roadside where my father was
chopping wood, when I saw such a gang approach-
ing along the new Salisbury road. The coffle of

FIRST EFFORTS, ,j

slaves came first, chained in couples on each side of a
long chain which extended between them ; the driver
was some distance behind, with the wagon of sup-
plies. My father addressed the slaves pleasantly,
and then asked: **Well, boys, why do they chain
you?" One of the men, whose countenance be-
trayed unusual intelligence and whose expression
denoted the deepest sadness, replied: **They have
taken us away from our wives and children, and they
chain us lest we should make our escape and go
back to them." My childish sympathy and interest
^re aroused, and when the dejected procession had
passed on, I turned to my father and asked many
questions concerning them, why they were taken
away from their families, etc. In simple words,
suited to my comprehension, my father explained to
me the meaning of slavery, and, as I listened, the
thought arose in my mind — *'How terribly we
should feel if father were taken away from us."

This was the first awakening of that sympathy
with the oppressed, which, together with a strong
hatred of oppression and injustice in every form,
were the motives that influenced my whole after-life.
Another incident of my boyhood is indelibly en-
graved on my mind. I accompanied my father one
spring to the famous shad fishery at the narrows of
the Yadkin River, a spot of wild and romantic
scenery, where the stream breaks through a spur of
the mountains and goes foaming and dashing down
its rocky bed in a succession of rapids. Every
spring, when the shad ascended the river, many
people resorted to the place to obtain fish. They

REMINISCENCES,

brought with them a variety of merchandise, sad-
dlery, crockery-ware, etc., and remained in camp
some time, buying and selling. The fishery was
owned by two brothers named Crump. They were
slaveholders, and sometimes allowed their slaves the
privilege of fishing after night and disposing of the
fish thus obtained, on their own account. A slave,
who had availed himself of this privilege, disposed
of the fish he caught to my father. Next morning
he came to the place where we were preparing
breakfast, and entered into conversation with my
father, speaking of the fish he had sold him, aiKi
asking if he would take more on the same terms.
Noticing this, and thinking it. a piece of presuming
familiarity and impertinence, on the part of the
negro, a young man, nephew of the Crumps, seized
a fagot from the fire and struck the negro a furious
blow across the head, baring the skull, covering his
back and breast with blood, and his head with fire ;
swearing at the same time that he would allow no
such impudence from niggers. My father protested
against the act, and I was so deeply moved that I
left my breakfast untasted, and going off by myself
gave vent to my feelings in sobs and tears.

A few such instances of "man's inhumanity to
man" intensified my hatred of slavery, and inspired
me to devote myself to the cause of the helpless
and oppressed, and enter upon that line of humane
effort, which I pursued for more than fifty years. I
would still be engaged in it had not Abraham
Lincoln broken up the business by proclamation in
1863,

FIRST EFFORTS.

STEPHEN, THE KIDNAPPED NEGRO.

The first opportunity for aiding a slave occurred
when I was about fifteen years old. It was a cus-
tom in North Carolina, at that time, to make a
** frolic*' of any special work, like corn husking,
log-rolling, etc. The neighbors would assemble at
the place appointed, and with willing hearts and
busy hands soon complete the work. Then fol-
lowed the supper and the merry-making, and the
night was in

"The wee sma' hours ayant the twal,"

before the lights were out and the company gone.

At a gathering of this kind, a corn husking at Dr.
Caldwell's, I was present. The neighbors assembled
about dark, bringing their slaves with them. The
negroes were assigned a place at one end of the
heap, the white people took their place at the other,
and all went to work, enlivening their labor with
songs and merry talk.

A slave-dealer, named Stephen Holland, had ar-
rived in the neighborhood a short time before, with
a coffle of slaves, on his way to the South, and as
this was his place of residence, he stopped for a few
days before proceeding on his journey. He brought
with him his band of slaves to help his neighbor
husk corn, and I was much interested in them.
When the white people went in to supper I re-
mained behind to talk with the strange negroes, and
see if I could render them any service. In conver-
sation I learned that one of the negroes, named
Stephen, was free born, but had been kidnapped and

v.-

1 5 REMINISCENCES.

sold into slavery. Till he became of age he had
been indentured to Edward Lloyd, a Friend, living
near Philadelphia. When his apprenticeship was
ended, he had been hired by a man to help drive a
flock of sheep to Baltimore. After reaching that
place he had been seized one night as he was
asleep in the negro house of a tavern, gagged and
bound, then placed in a close carriage, and driven
rapidly across the line into Virginia, where he was
confined the next night in a cellar. He had then
been sold for a small sum to Holland, who was tak-
ing him to the Southern market, where he expected
to realize a large sum from his sale. I became
deeply interested in his story, and began to think
how I could help him to regain his freedom. Re-
membering Dr. Caldwell's Tom, a trusty negro,
whom I knew well, I imparted to him my wishes,
and desired him, if it could be arranged, to bring
Stephen to my father's the next night. They came
about midnight, and my father wrote down the par-
ticulars of Stephen's case, and took the address of
the Lloyds. The next day he wrote to them, giving
an account of Stephen and his whereabouts. In two
weeks from that time, Hugh Lloyd, a brother of
Edward Lloyd, arrived by stage in Greensboro.
Procuring conveyance, he came to my father's, and
there learned that Stephen had been taken south-
ward by the slave-dealer Holland. Next day being
regular meeting-day at the Friends Meeting-House,
at New Garden, the case was laid before the men
after meeting, and two of them, Dr. George Swain

FIRST EFFORTS. 1 7

and Henry Macy, volunteered to accompany Hugh
Lloyd in search of Stephen.

A sum of money was made up for the expenses
of their journey, and Lloyd was furnished with a
horse and saddle and the necessary equipments.
The party found Stephen in Georgia, where he had
been sold by Holland, who had gone farther South.
A suit was instituted to gain possession of him, but
the laws of that State required proof, in such in-
stances, that the mother had been free, and Hugh
Lloyd was too young to give this proof. So the
matter was referred to the next term of court, se-
curity being given by Stephen's master that he
should be produced when wanted. Lloyd returned
North, and sent affidavits and free papers giving

proof in the case, and in six months Stephen was
liberated and returned home. The man who had
hired him to drive the sheep to Baltimore had, in
the meantime, been arrested on the charge of kidnap-
ping, but as Stephen was the only prosecuting wit-
ness, the suit could not go on while he was absent.
The man's friends took him out of jail on a writ of
habeas corpus and gave bond for his appearance at
court, but he preferred forfeiting his bond to stand-
ing the trial, and fled the country before Stephen
returned.

THE CAPTURED SLAVE.

But I was not always so fortunate as to be able to
render assistance to the objects of my sympathy.
Sometimes I witnessed scenes of cruelty and injus-
tice and had to stand passively by. The following

1 8 REMINISCENCES,

is an instance of that kind : I had been sent one day
on an errand to a place in the neighborhood, called
Clemen's Store, and was returning home along the
Salem road, when I met a party of movers, with
wagons, teams, slaves and household goods, on
their way to another State. After passing them I
came to a blacksmith's shop, in front of which were
several men, talking and smoking, in idle chat, and
proceeding on my way I met a negro man trudging
along slowly on foot, carrying a bundle. He in-
quired of me regarding the party of movers ; asked
how far they were ahead, etc. I told him ** About
half a mile," and as he passed on, the thought
occurred to me that this man was probably a runa-
way slave who was following the party of movers.
I had heard of instances when families were sepa-
rated — the wife and children being taken by their
owners to another part of the country — of the hus-
band and father following the party of emigrants,
keeping a short distance behind the train of wagons
during the day, and creeping up to the camp at
night, close enough for his wife to see him and bring
him food. A few days afterward I learned that this
man had been stopped and questioned by the party
of men at the blacksmith's shop, that he had pro-
duced a pass, but they being satisfied that it was a
forgery had lodged him in jail at Greensboro, and
sent word to his master concerning him. A week or
two afterward I was sent to a blacksmith's shop, at
Greensboro, to get some work done. The slave's
master had, that very day, arrived and taken posses-
sion of him, and brought him to the blacksmith's shop

FIRST EFFORTS.

to get some irons put on him before starting back to
his home. While a chain was being riveted around
the negro's neck, and handcuffs fastened on his
wrists, his master upbraided him for having run
away. He asked :

•* Weren't, you well treated ? "

"Yes, massa."

*'Then what made you run away?**

"My wife and children were taken away from me,
massa, and I think as much of them as you do of
yours, or any white man does of his. Their massa
tried to buy me too, but you would not sell me, so
when I saw them go away, I followed.** The mere
recital of his words can convey little idea of the piti-
ful and pathetic manner in which they were uttered ;
his whole frame trembled, and the glance of piteous,
despairing appeal he turned upon his master would
have melted any heart less hard than stone.

The master said, "Tve always treated you well,
trusting you with my keys, and treating you more
like a confidential servant than a slave, but n<nv you
shall know what slavery is. Just wait till I get you
back home!" He then tried to make the negro tell
where he had got his pass, who wrote it for him, etc.,
but he refused to betray the person who had be-
friended him. The master threatened him with the
severest punishment, but he persisted in his refusal.
Then torture was tried, in order to force the name
from him. Laying the slave's fettered hand on the
blacksmith's anvil, the master struck it with a ham-
mer until the blood settled under the finger nails.
TTie negro winced under each cruel blow, but said not

20 REMINISCENCES.

a word. As I stood by and watched this scene, my
heart swelled with indignation, and I longed to rescue
the slave and punish the master. I was not converted
to peace principles then, and I felt like fighting for
the slave. One end of the chain, riveted to the ne-
gro's neck, was made fast to the axle of his master's
buggy, then the master sprang in and drove off at a
sweeping trot, compelling the slave to run at full
speed or fall and be dragged by his neck. I watched
them till they disappeared in the distance, and as
long as I could see them, the slave was running.

FUGITIVES IN CONCEALMENT.

Runaway slaves used frequently to conceal them-
selves in the woods and thickets in the vicinity of
New Garden, waiting opportunities to make their
escape to the North, and I generally learned their
places of concealment and rendered them all the
service in my power. My father, in common with
other farmers in that part of the country, allowed
his hogs to run in the woods, and I often went out to
feed them. My sack of corn generally contained
supplies of bacon and corn bread for the slaves, and
many a time I sat in the thickets with them as they
hungrily devoured my bounty, and listened to the
stories they told of hard masters and cruel treatment,
or spoke in language, simple and rude, yet glowing
with native eloquence, of the glorious hope of free-
dom which animated their spirits in the darkest
hours, and sustained them under the sting of the
lash.

These outlying slaves knew where I lived, and,

FIRST EFFORTS. 21

when reduced to extremity of want or danger, often
came to my room, in the silence and darkness of
night, to obtain food or assistance. In my efforts to
aid these fugitives I had a zealous co-worker in my
friend and cousin, Vestal Coffin, who was then, and
continued to the time of his death — a few years later
—a stanch friend to the slave.

Vestal was several years older than I, was married
and had the care of a family, but, in the busiest season
of work, could find time to co-operate with me in all
my endeavors to aid runaway slaves. We often met
at night in a thicket where a fugitive was concealed,
to counsel in regard to his prospects and lay plans for
getting him safely started to the North. We em-
ployed General Hamilton's Sol, a gray-haired, trusty
old negro, to examine every coffle of slaves to which
he could gain access, and ascertain if there were any
kidnapped negroes among them. When such a case
was discovered, Sol would manage to bring the per-
son, by night, to some rendezvous appointed, in the
pine thickets or the depths of the woods, and there
Vestal and I would meet them and have an interview.
There was always a risk in holding such meetings,
for the law in the South inflicted heavy penalties on
any one who should aid or abet a fugitive slave in
escaping, and the patrollers, or mounted officers,
frequently passed along the road near our place of
concealment. When information had been obtained
from kidnapped negroes regarding the circumstances
of their capture, Vestal Coffin wrote to their friends,
and in many cases succeeded in getting them liberated.
In this way a negro man of family and means, who

22 REMINISCENCES,

had been abducted from Pennsylvania and taken to
New Orleans and sold, was finally restored to his
friends. Obtaining through Vestal Coffin a knowl-
edge of his whereabouts, they brought suit ag;ainst
his owners and gained his liberty.

SERVICES OF VESTAL COFFIN.

Another negro was kidnapped from Delaware, and
brought to Guilford County, North Carolina, by a
man named John Thompson. Learning the partic-
ulars of his case, Vestal Coffin went to Hillsboro, a
neighboring town, and obtained a writ, which he
placed in the hands of the sheriff to be served on
Thompson, requiring him to produce the negro in
court, for investigation regarding the unlawfulness
of his being held in bondage. Thompson, disregard-
ing the writ, sent the negro South, and sold him.
Vestal Coffin went back and procured another writ,
causing Thompson to be arrested on charge of kid-
napping, and thrown into prison till the negro should
be produced. This proceeding greatly enraged
Thompson, but he was obliged to send for the
negro, who was delivered to the charge of Vestal
Coffin. When the case went into court, Thompson
secured the best lawyers, but Vestal Coffin had right
on his side, and finally triumphed. As the poet
says:

''Thrice is he armed who hath his quarrel just."

The case was delayed nearly a year, and in that
time Vestal Coffin procured affidavits and other doc-
uments establishing the negro's freedom, and he was

FIRST EFFORTS.

»et at liberty. These are some of the results of the
consultations held by night in the pine thickets.

EDE.

As I was always interested in the work and ready
to engage in it, I found opportunities to be of service
to the slaves in various ways. The following is an
account of one of my efforts in this line :

Dr. Caldwell, whose name has been mentioned
before, was one of our near neighbors. He was a
learned clergyman and physician, founded a college
— said to be the first in North Carolina — and num-
bered among his pupils many of the prominent men
of that State. His son Samuel was a Presbyterian
minister, and was located in the southwestern part
of the State, in charge of a church there. At one
time, when on a visit to his relatives in Guilford
County, he told his father that his wife very much
needed a good house servant, and, after some delib-
eration, the old Doctor concluded to make him a
present of one.

The question thus was. Which one of the negro
women should it be ?

The mistress was a humane Christian lady, and did
not like the idea of separating husband and wife, but
all the negro women that were grown had husbands,
and the girls were too young to fill the place, so it
was finallv decided that a woman named Ede should
go. She was strong and healthy, and in the prime
of life, and would be the most suitable. She had four
children, three of whom were to be left behind ; the
youngest, being a babe a few months old, was to go

2^ REMINISCENCES.

with its mother. To satisfy the scruples of his wife
against separating husband and wife, the old Doctor
told her that Ede's husband — who belonged to another
master — was a trifling negro, and that his master
would probably sell him before long ; that slave mar-
riage was not legal ; and that perhaps Ede would
soon get a better man for a husband.

When Ede learned that she was to go and live with
her young master, more than a hundred miles distant
from her husband and children, she was filled with
grief and dismay, and studied how she might avert
the threatened calamity.

The night before the time fixed for her start to her
new home, she decided to flee to the thickets and
hide herself for a week or two, hoping that in this
time her master and mistress would change their
mind about sending her away, and consent to let her
remain. Preparing a little store of provisions, and
taking her baby in her arms, she fled to the woods,
and found a hiding place in a dense thicket, about a
mile from my father's house. As it was some dis-
tance from the road, she ventured to kindle a little
fire by the side of a log, for the weather was cool and
chilly, and both she and her child suffered from the
cold. She made a^bed of leaves, by the side of a
large log, and sheltered herself as well as she could
from the wind. She had remained in this hiding
place for several days and nights, when her child be-
came ill, from cold and exposure. Filled with fresh
anguish at the sight of its sufferings, and unable to
alleviate them, she determined to leave her place oi
concealment. Her little stock of provisions had by

FIRST EFFORTS.

this time given out, and she was beginning to suffer
with hunger. She was acquainted with my father's
family, and knew us to be friends to the fugitive,
and resolved to apply to us for help. She made her
way to our house, at night, and was kindly received,
though we knew we laid ourselves liable to a heavy
penalty by harboring a fugitive slave. A hot supper
was prepared for her, and then we heard her story,
and consulted together in regard to what should be
done. Father was liable to fine and imprisonment if
she was discovered at our house, yet we could not
turn her away. The dictates of humanity came in
opposition to the law of the land, and we ignored the
law. My mother said, '*The child is sick, and may
die before morning ; we can not turn them from our
doors." My father said he would risk the penalty,
and Ede was given a comfortable resting place for
the night. My mother did all that she could for the
sick child. She spent the night trying to relieve its
sufferings, and, at daylight, had the satisfaction of
seeing it free from pain and in a quiet sleep.

When morning came, the question arose. What
should be done with Ede ? We could not turn her
out in the cold with her sick child, to return to her
hiding place in the woods, and she begged us not to
send her back to her master's. As she repeated her
sad story, the tears streamed down her cheeks, and
she said she would rather die than be separated from
her family.

I vohinteered to go and plead her case with her
master and mistress, as I was acquainted with them,
and thought I could persuade them not to send hei
3

«■

26 REMINISCENCES,

away. I also hoped to save my father from the pen-
alty he had incurred by harboring a fugitive. Leav-
ing Ede and the child at my father's, I made my way
to the mansion of the aristocratic gentleman of the
old school. I felt some misgivings as to the success
of my mission when I entered the house, and was at
first embarrassed when I was shown into the room
where the Doctor was sitting. He received me
kindly, as was his custom, and entered into conver-
sation. Among the soUd qualities of his character
was a rich vein of humor, and he always made him-
self attractive to young people, entertaining them
with some droll story, or puzzling them with knotty
questions. He inquired about our school at New
Garden, where Jeremiah Hubbard, a well-known
Quaker preacher, was then teaching, and said, **You
ought to pay Mr. Hubbard double price for your
tuition, for I hear that he has taught his pupils the
art of courting, beside the common branches of a
school education. I hear that two of his pupils have
made known their intentions of marriage, or given
in meeting, as you call it. How do you suppose
those young Quakers feel now that they are half
married ?"

"Like they intended to be wholly married soon,
I suppose," I replied.

He continued, "Now, we Presbyterians do up
such business sooner than you Quakers do" — and
was going on in this strain when his wife entered the
room. My diffidence had vanished by this time, and
I longed for an opportunity to introduce the subject
which occupied my thoughts. After the mistress of

FIRST EFFORTS,

the house had greeted me and taken her seat, I said
that I had come to speak with them on an important
matter, and inquired if their slave woman Ede had
run away.

The Doctor replied, "Yes, she ran off several days
ago, to keep from going home with our son Sam, 1
suppose. She needs a good flogging for her foolish-
ness — ^she would have a good home at his house. Do
you know where she is hiding?'*

I related the incident of her coming to our house
and what had been done for her, and then pleaded
her case with all the earnestness and eloquence I was
master of, quoting all the texts of Scripture bearing
on the case that I could remember, and bringing the
matter home to ourselves, putting ourselves in her
place, etc. I soon saw that I had touched the old
lady's feelings. She said she thanked my mother for
taking such good care of the sick child, and that
she had very reluctantly given her consent for Ede to
be separated from her family. I told them that Ede
said she wished to come home if they would let her
stay, but that she had rather die than be sent away
from her husband and children. The old Doctor had
listened attentively to my pleading, but had made no
reply. I now askejl him if my father had done right
in taking in Ede and her child in violation of the law,
thus laying himself liable to a heavy penalty, if he
was disposed to prosecute.

He replied, "Your father has done right; I shall
not trouble him, and I thank your mother for her
kindness to the sick child. As for you, you have
done your part very well. Why, Mr. Coffui, you

28 REMINISCENCES.

would make a pretty good preacher; if you will
come to me I will give you lessons in theology with-
out charge."

I thanked him for his offer, but said I had not
come to talk about theology that morning ; I wanted
to know what word I should carry back to poor Ede,
who was waiting at our house, in anxious suspense.

He said, **Well, this is no doubt your first ser-
mon, and you would be disappointed and might give
up preaching if you are not successful ; you may tell
Ede to come home, and I will not send her away."

I took my leave, and .went home rejoicing. I gave
an account of my visit and the success that had at-
tended my efforts, and Ede shouted for joy. In the
middle of the day, when it was warm and sunny, she
started home, carrying her child, which my mother
had wrapped comfortably in a small blanket.

The Doctor kept his word, and she was allowed to
remain at home with her family,

THE WHITE SLAVE.

In the following story I was no way concerned,
but the incidents came under my observation, and I
can well remember the feelings of deepest sympathy
and indignation which it aroused in our neighbor-
hood at the time of its occurrence. It shows one of
the crudest phases of slavery, and gives one of the
many instances in which the deepest suffering was
inflicted on those who merited it by no act of their
own, but received the curse by inheritance.

A slaveholder, living in Virginia, owned a beau-
tiful slave woman, who was almost white. She

FIRST EFFORTS. 29

became the mother of a child, a little boy, in whose
veins ran the blood of her master, and the closest
observer could not detect in its appearance any trace
of African descent. He grew to be two or three
years of age, a most beautiful child and the idol of
his mother's heart, when the master concluded, for
&mily reasons, to send him away. He placed him
in the care of a friend living in Guilford County,
North Carolina, and made an agreement that he
should receive a common-school education, and at
a suitable age be taught some useful trade. Years
passed; the child grew to .manhood, and having
received a good common-school education, and
learned the shoemaker's trade, he married an esti-
mable young white woman, and had a family of five
or six children. He had not the slightest knowledge
of the taint of African blood in his veins, and no
one in the neighborhood knew that he was the son
of an octoroon slave woman. He made a comfort-
able living for his family, was a good citizen, a
member of the Methodist Church, and was much
respected by all who knew him. In course of time
his father, the Virginian slaveholder, died, and when
the executors came to settle up the estate, they
remembered the little white boy, the son of the
slave woman, and knowing that by law — such law! —
he belonged to the estate, and must be by this time
a valuable piece of property, they resolved to gain
possession of him. After much inquiry and search
they learned of his whereabouts, and the heir of the
estate, accompanied by an administrator, went to
Guilford County, North Carolina, to claim his half-

30 REMINISCENCES.

brother as a slave. Without making themselves
known to him, they sold him to a negro trader, and
gave a bill of sale, preferring to have a sum in ready
money, instead of a servant who might prove very
valuable, but who would, without doubt, give them
a great deal of trouble. He had been free all his
life, and they knew he would not readily yield to the
yoke of bondage. All this time the victim was
entirely unconscious of the cruel fate in store for
him.

His wife had been prostrated by a fever then
prevalent in the neighborhood, and he had waited
upon her and watched by her bedside, until he was
worn out with exhaustion and loss of sleep. Several
neighbor women coming in one evening to watch
with the invalid, he surrendered her to their care,
and retired to seek the rest he so much needed.
That night the slave-dealer came with a gang of
ruffians, burst into the house and seized their victim
as he lay asleep, bound him, after heroic struggles
on his part, and dragged him away. When he
demanded the cause of his seizure, they showed him
the bill of sale they had received, and informed him
that he was a slave. In this rude, heartless manner
the intelligence that he belonged to the African
race was first imparted to him, and the crushing
weight of his cruel destiny came upon him when
totally unprepared. His captors hurried him out of
the neighborhood, and took him toward the South-
ern slave markets. To get him black enough to sell
without question, they washed his face in tan ooze,
and kept him tied in the sun, and to complete his

FIRST EFFORTS, 3^

resemblance to a mulatto, they cut his hair short
and scared it with a hot iron to make it curly. He
was sold in Georgia or Alabama, to a hard master,
by whom he was cruelly treated.

Several months afterward he succeeded in escap-
ing, and made his way back to Guilford County,
North Carolina. Here he learned that his wife had
died a few days after his capture, the shock of that
calamity having hastened her death, and that his
children were scattered among the neighbors. His
master, thinking that he would return to his old
home, came in pursuit of him with hounds, and
chased him through the thickets and swamps. He
evaded the dogs by wading in a mill-pond, and
climbing a tree, where he remained all night. Next
day he made his way to the house of Stanton White
(afterward my father-in-law), where he remained
several days. Dr. George Swain, a man of much
influence in the community, had an interview with
him, and, hearing the particulars of his seizure, said
he thought the proceedings were illegal. He held a
consultation with several lawyers, and instituted pro-
ceedings in his behalf. But the unfortunate victim
of man's cruelty did not live to regain his freedom.
He had been exposed and worried so much, trailed
by dogs and forced to lie in swamps and thickets,
that his health was broken down and he died before
the next term of court.

REMINISCENCES.

CHAPTER II.

THE STORY OF JACK BARNES — MY JOURNEY WITH A
SLAVE-OWNER — A MISSION FULL OF ANXIKTY —
THE STORY OF SAM — I TURN SLAVE-HUNTER — NAR-
ROW ESCAPE FROM ARREST — PENALTY OF AIDING A
SLAVE — FATE OF POOR SAM.

I NOW come to the relation of an occurrence in
which, Strange as it may seem, I turned slave-
hunter. A gentleman by the name of Barnes, who
lived in the eastern part of the State, had a body
scrvimt named Jack, to whom he was much attached.
Barnes was a bachelor, with no direct heirs, and
being in ill-health, he made his will, in which, as was
allowed by a provision of the law, he bequeathed to
Jack his freedom for faithfulness and meritorious con-
duct, also a considerable portion of his estate. At
his death, distant relatives flocked to the scene,
seized upon the property and entered suit to contest
the will. Jack knew very well that from Southern
courts of justice he could expect no favor; so pro-
curing a copy of the will, and a cert-ificate of good
conduct, signed by several leading white men of the
place, who were friendly to him, he sought a more
secure place in which to await the decision of the
court. He had heard of a settlement of Quakers at

THE STORY OF JACK BARNE& 33

New Garden, near Greensboro, Guilford County,
who were opposed to slavery and friendly to colored
people. He obtained directions to aid him in find-
ing this place, and left home privately, that it might
not be known where he was if the case should go
against him. He reached New Garden safely, was
introduced to me, and I took him to my father's
house.

Jack remained in our neighborhood for some time,
employed on the farms of my father, of Vestal Cof-
fin, and others, and proved himself to be an indus-
trious and faithful servant. He won the esteem and
sympathy of all who knew him and his story, by
his steady habits, intelligent character and manly
deportment. He came to New Garden in the fall of
1 82 1, and in the following March received the news
that the case in court had been decided against him.
The property that had been willed to him was turned
over to the relatives of his master, and he was con-
signed again to slavery. The judge decided that
Barnes was not in his right mind at the time he made
the will ; this was apparent from the nature of the
will. The heirs took possession of the property, but
where was Jack, the able-bodied valuable servant,
who also belonged to them? He was not to be
found, and they advertised in the papers, offering
one hundred dollars reward to any one who would
secure him till they could get hold of him, or give
information that would lead to his discovery.

This advertisement appeared in the paper pub-
lished at Greensboro, and when Jack saw it he was
greatly alarmed. The questions which occupied his

34 REMINISCENCES.

mind and with which he greeted his friends were,
** What shall I do? can I get to a free State, or any
place, where I can enjoy liberty in safety?"

It was decided that for the present he. must be
concealed, and he was secreted .among his friends,
part of the time at our house, and part at the house
of Vestal Coffin. A council was held by Jack's
friends to devise some plan to get him to a free
State. Bethuel Coffin, my uncle, who lived a few
miles distant, was then preparing to go to Indiana,
on a visit to his children and relatives who had set-
tled there. He would be accompanied by his son
Elisha, then living in Randolph County, and by his
daughter Mary. They intended to make the jour-
ney in a two-horse wagon, taking with them pro-
visions and cooking utensils, and camp out on the
way. This was the usual mode of traveling in those
days. The road they proposed to take was called
the Kanawha road. It was the nearest route, but
led through a mountainous wilderness, most of the
way. Crossing Dan River, it led by way of Patrick
Court-House, Virginia, to Maberry's Gap, in the
Blue Ridge mountains, thence across Clinch moun-
tain, by way of Pack's ferry on New River, thence
across White Oak mountain to the falls of the Ka-
nawha, and down that river to the Ohio, crossing at
Gallipolis.

This was thought to be a safe route for Jack to
travel, as it was very thinly inhabited, and it was
decided that my cousin Vestal and I should go to
see our uncle, and learn if he was willing to incur
the risk and take Jack with him to Indiana. He said

THE STORY OF JACK BARNES.

he was willing, and all the arrangements were made,
and the time for starting fixed. The night after they
started, Vestal CoflRn took Jack, on horseback, to
Dan Riv^r, about twenty miles distant, where they
camped the first night, and where the fugitive joined
them.

Here we will leave his story for a time, and turn
to the trials and persecutions of another slave, named
Sam, who lived in the neighborhood of New Garden.
Osborne, his master, who might have represented the
character of Legree in ** Uncle Tom's Cabin," took
particular delight in whipping and abusing poor Sam,
till he was compelled to take to the thickets or the
premises of his friends for safety. Even the slave-
holders in the neighborhood sympathized with him.
After living in this manner for several months, and
finding no opportunity to escape to the North, Sam
went to Robert Thompson, a slave-dealer, and asked
him to buy him. He was willing to take the chance
of getting a better master, even if he was sold to the
rice swamps of the far South. Thompson went to
Osborne, and offered him six hundred dollars for
Sam, "as he ran," taking the chances of his capture.

Osborne replied, "I'll not take less than ^999.99
for him until I have caught him ; then, after I have
settled with him, you may have him for $550."

Thompson swore at Osborne, and told him he
hoped he would never get Sam, then returned home,
and giving Sam a pair of good pantaloons, told him
to clear himself and never let his master get posses-
sion of him again.

A few days after my uncle had started on his

36 REMINISCENCES.

journey to the West, Osborne was out looking for
his slave. Meeting a man whom he knew, who was
returning from a journey near the mountains, Os-
borne asked him if he had met any movers on that
road accompanied by a negro.

**Yes," was the reply; **I met an old Quaker
man with a two-horse wagon, who said he was going
to Indiana, and there was a negro man walking a
short distance behind the wagon."

He described the negro, and Osborne said, with
an oath :

"That's my nigger Sam, Tm sure. The rascal
has been lying out for several months, and I heard
that he got the papers of some free nigger, and said
he intended to follow the first movers he could meet
with going to the West. It is old Mr. Coffin and
his son Elisha ; I know them. I suppose that rascal
Sam has met with them somewhere on the road, and
made them believe he is a free man, and is now
traveling with them. I think they are both gentle-
men and would not steal my nigger. Well, I will
follow them and get that rascal Sam.''

As I was returning from Fourth-day meeting at
New Garden, the third day after my uncle started,
I met a man who had heard this conversation be-
tween Osborne and the traveler, and who informed
me that Osborne had gone directly home, got a
fresh horse and started in pursuit that very morning.
I hastened home and told my father the story. We
decided that something must be done immediately.
We knew that if Osborne should come up with the
party and find that the negro was not his Sam, but

THE STORY OF JACK BARNES. 37

Jack Barnes, he would capture him all the same, for
he knew that Jack had been in the neighborhood,
and that a reward was offered. He would recognize
Jack by the description in the advertisement, and
would secure him, and bring him back for the sake
of the one hundred dollars reward. It was decided
that I should go at once to my Cousin Vestal, a man
several years older than I was, and a faithful worker
in the cause of liberty, and see if he could not sug-
gest a plan by which Jack might be saved. I laid
the matter before Vestal, who felt, as we did, that
something must be done, and that quickly, to rescue
Jack from Osborne's clutches. We came to the con-
clusion, that the only thing to be done was for some
person to start at once on a good traveling horse,
and go far enough ahead of Osborne to warn Jack of
his danger. Vestal was so situated that he could not
go, but he accompanied me to his brother Elihu's,
to see what arrangements could be made there. We
laid the matter before him, knowing that he would
be a suitable person to go, but he could not leave his
business then. He insisted that I should undertake
the trip, and Vestal uniting with him, I decided to
go, though I was young and had never been on such
a responsible journey before.

Elihu offered me his fine traveling mare and all
the necessary equipments. I told him I had no
money with me and no overcoat — was entirely
unprepared for traveling, as I had no such prospect
in view when I left home. But they agreed to fur-
nish everything needful, and to inform my parents
of my mission, that they might not be uneasy at my

38 REMINISCENCES,

long absence. Elihu had the horse brought out and
freshly shod, and prepared a wallet of oats that I
might feed it when necessary during the night. His
wife prepared some provisions for me to eat on the
journey, which were placed in the saddle-bags. I
put on Elihu*s warm overcoat, and with enough
money in my pocket to take me to the Ohio River
and back, I felt fully equipped. I ate my supper,
mounted my beautiful traveling mare, and started,
between sunset and dark. There was no moon, but
the night was clear and the stars shone brightly.
The first ten miles of the way was familiar to me, and
I had directions as far as Dan River ford ; beyond
that, all was new and strange. I traveled at a steady
but moderate pace the first twenty miles, and reached
the ford about midnight. Dan River at this place is
a wide, shallow stream, with a swift current, perfectly
safe to cross if one is acquainted with the ford.
There were piles of stones placed at intervals across
it, to guide the traveler, but it was difficult to see
them by starlight, and when I got to the middle of
the river I lost sight of them. I thought I had got
into deep water and that my mare was swimming — I
seemed to go so swiftly and easily — but I soon discov-
ered it was my head that was swimming, and that the
animal was standing still. I had involuntarily checked
her by my tight hold on the reins. Casting my eye
across the river I pushed ahead, and in a few mo-
ments was below the ford and in deep water. My
animal swam out with me nicely, but I got a good
wetting. Reaching the opposite shore, I alighted,
and pulling off my shoes, wrung the water from my

THE STORY OF JACK BARNES. jg

Stockings and pantaloons as well as I could. I
then rubbed the limbs of the mare^and after giving
her some oats on a smooth stone, and partaking of
some food from my store in the saddle-bags, I
mounted again, and set off at greater speed. Now
and then I drew rein in front of a house by the way-
side, and calling somebody out of bed, inquired the
road to Patrick Court-House. After receiving direc-
tions, I rode on before the people had time to
question me. Just at daybreak I came to a log-
house with a tavern sign. Calling the man out, I
inquired about the road and found I had traveled
forty-seven miles. The man told me if I would
stop an hour or two, I would have company on my
journey, a gentleman who had stopped with him
that night and was going the same road, adding :

**He is in pursuit of some movers who have one
of his negroes with them."

I made some excuse and pushed on. I knew that
it was Osborne and that I was now ahead of him,
but the next thought was — can I keep ahead of him?
I was satisfied that I could not ; I had traveled all
night and my animal was tired, while his had rested
through the night and would be fresh for the
journey. I had taken good care of my mare, giving
her a light feed of oats several times during the
night arid rubbing her legs frequently ; she seemed in
good condition, but I did not think it would be possi-
ble to push ahead and reach my uncle's wagoij
before Osborne overtook me.

Many anxious thoughts passed through my ex-
cited mindy and finally I fixed on a plan. I would

REIdimSCENCES.

stop at the next tavern, which was a few miles ahead,
feed my mare, ^et breakfast and rest a few hours,
thus allowing Osborne to overtake me. I knew him
by sight but did not think he knew me, as we had
never had any acquaintance. I intended to travel
awhile in his company and find out his plans, then
make an excuse for taking another road, and fall back
while he went on, then pass him in the night when
he was at some tavern. Public houses were scarce
in that poor and thinly settled part of Virginia, and
private houses would not take in travelers, because
the law of the State did not allow them to charge
for entertainment without obtaining license. It was
half past eight o'clock when I halted at the next
tavern, and called for breakfast, and food for my
horse. About nine o'clock Osborne rode up and
stopped for the same purpose. It was the custom
then, in traveling on horseback, to make an early
start, and stop about nine o'clock for breakfast.

Osborne went to the bar and called for liquor and
invited me to drink with him — though I was a
stranger to him — but I declined. After breakfast
he inquired which way I was traveling. I told him
that I was going west, would cross the mountain at
Maberry's Gap, then take the left-hand road, leading
to Burk's Forks. At that place my Uncle Samuel
Stanley had a stock farm where he kept a number
of cattle through the winter, allowing them to fatten
on the range during the summer. I said :

**Last fall I went over there and helped my
Cousin Jessie Stanley drive a drove of beef cattle
home to Guilford County, then we crossed the

THE STORY OF JACK BARNES, ^i

mountain at Bell Spur, but I thought I would cross
this time at Maberry's Gap. "

Osborne inquired: "Is your name Stanley?"

"No, it is Coffin."

"Are you any relation to old Mr. Bethuel Cof-
fin?"

"Yes, he is my uncle."

"Well, I am in pursuit of him."

" What is the matter? "

"Why, he has one of my niggers with him, tak-
ing him to Indiana, I suppose."

" How is that?" I asked, assuming great surprise;
"how did he get the negro? I saw him start and
there was none with him then."

"Oh, I don't think he stole the nigger," said Os-
borne ; then he went on to relate the story that has
been told before, how he supposed his negro had
got free papers, and imposed on my uncle.

Osborne now supposed my only business was the
journey to Burk's Fork; I had certainly deceived
him, but told no untruth. He had taken several
drinks, and now became very jovial and familiar
with me, expressing great satisfaction that I was
going the same road; it was lonesome traveling
through that rough, thinly settled country, and he
was glad to have my company. His pocket-bottle
was filled with whisky ; then our horses were brought
to the door, and we started off together. As we
traveled along he talked and joked in great good
humor, but I hardly heard what he said, for my
mind was still full of plans and anxious thoughts.
He had frequent recourse to his whisky bottle, and

REMINISCENCES.

pressed me to drink ; I turned it up to my mouth
several times, but took care that no liquor passed
down my throat. I wanted to encourage his drink-
ing and keep my own head clear, thinking that if
he became stupefied with liquor I could more easily
gain ground upon him, reach the camp that night
before him, and warn poor Jack of his danger.

Osborne communicated all his plans to me, saying
that he did not intend to go upon them in the day-
time, but to keep back, when he came near them,
till they had camped for the night ; then he would
gather a company of armed men, surround the
camp and take Sam, dead or alive, shooting him
down if he attempted to escape. He said :

**See here, young man, I want you to go with
me, and help capture the nigger; I will pay you
well. If it proves not to be Sam, I think I know
who it is. There was a nigger man working about
last winter in the Quaker settlement, who was willed
free by a crazy master, but the heirs broke the will
and have advertised for him, offering a hundred dol-
lars reward to any one who will secure him and give
them notice. His name is Jack Barnes, and he is
so well described in the advertisement I think I
would know him. If it is not my nigger with your
uncle, it must be that fellow, and I will land him in
Greenboro jail, sure. If you will go along and help
me I will divide the reward with you ; that will be
fifty dollars apiece, and will pay us well these hard
times."

I made several excuses : said it would consume too
much time, my business was urgent, etc.

THE STORy OF JACK BARNES,

"Now, see here, my good fellow," continued Os-
borne, "you will lose nothing. I will return with
you through the Burk's Fork settlement, and spend
a day or two there, giving you time to do your busi-
ness. Come, what do you say?"

I still made excuses, though I had fully made up
my mind to go with him, having come, by this time,
to the conclusion that my first plan would not do.
Osborne had inquired of every person we met in
regard to the party of movers, asking how far they
were ahead and if there was a negro man with them.
The answer to the last question was always "Yes;"
then Osborne would ask them to describe the man,
and when they did, he would exclaim, with an oath,
"That's my nigger, sure."

He made similar inquiries at every house, and the
statements he received confirmed him in the belief
that the fugitive was his slave. Jack answered the
description of Sam pretty well in regard to personal
appearance. All this made it plainer to me that my
original plan would not do: if I were to get ahead
of Osborne, overtake my uncle and get Jack out of
the way before Osborne came upon them, and try to
keep him out of the way, Osborne, on coming to the
wagon and not finding the negro, could easily prove
that he had been with the party at the last camping
pface, and might harass and perhaps detain my uncle.
Then it would be difficult for me to keep Jack secure
in the mountains till Osborne gave up the search
and returned home, and then try to place him with
my uncle again. This arrangement, therefore, was
abandoned, and I resolved to travel on with Osborne

44 REMINISCENCES.

till we reached the movers, hoping that the influence
of the liquor, which he had partaken of freely during
the day, or some other influence, would aid me in
effecting Jack's escape. We were now nearing the
top of the Blue Ridge, and in the afternoon passed
the spot where my uncle had camped the night be-
fore. A short distance beyond the mountain ridge
was the road that led to Burk's Forks. When we
reached it, I halted and allowed Osborne to renew
his urgent solicitations and offers of money. Finally,
and in an apparently reluctant manner, I agreed to
keep him company, just to oblige him, he thought —
and we went on together. By this time we were
seemingly much attached to each other. Osborne's
pocket bottle had been refilled, at my expense, and
to gain still further his favor, I exerted myself to
entertain him, telling him stories and recounting
jokes that kept him constantly laughing. It is
needless to say that this gayety was all assumed on
my part, for I was still weighed down with the
heavy responsibility of my mission. Toward night-
fall we learned that the wagon was only twelve or
fifteen miles ahead of us. I was anxious to press on
and accomplish our work that night, pleading the
urgency of my business at Burk's P'orks. Osborne,
on the contrary, wished to stop for the night at the
first house that afforded entertainment. I said,
'* Let us stop and get our horses fed, allow them to
rest an hour or two and take some refreshment our-
selves, then press on and finish our work to-night."

*' No, "said Osborne, *' that will not do. I want
to collect a company of eight or ten men, well armed.

THE STORY OF JACK BARNES,

to surround the camp, and it is too late to rally them
to-night."

We stopped at a little log-house, where a sign
indicated entertainment for man and beast, and
called for refreshments. I was now getting into a
part of the country I had seen before, Montgomery
County, Virginia. I had spent two weeks in that
county the previous fall, collecting cattle, as I had
told Osborne. I knew that one Squire Howells kept
a tavern on that road, not far ahead ; that he owned
no slaves, and was a popular man among the moun-
taineers. I inquired the distance to his house, and
was informed that it was eight miles. I also learned
that my uncle's party had passed a few hours before,
and would probably camp near Squire Howells', as
it was a favorable spot, on account of water, etc.

I now renewed my persuasions to induce Osborne
to go on ; told him that the poor cabin where we
then were afforded little accommodation or comfort ;
that if we went on to Squire Howells' we would be
near the camp, and as that neighborhood was more
thickly settled, we could collect the men he wanted
and accomplish our work without spending another
day. He finally yielded, and called for our horses.
He invited me to drink with him at the bar, and I
sipped the liquor lightly, wishing to promote his
drinking. It was now dark, but the stars shone
brightly, and we made our way along the road with-
out difficulty.

We arrived at Squire Howells' tavern before the
inmates had gone to bed. Riding up to the gate,
we hallooed, and the landlord came out. Osborne

^6 REMINISCENCES,

inquired if a two-horse wagon with movers had
passed that evening, and where they would be likely
to camp. Howells replied, ** They passed this even-
ing ; bought some horse feed of roe, and inquired for
a good camping place. I directed them to the Six-
Mile Branch, as we call it, a stream about six miles
from here, where they would find good water and
every accommodation for camping."

"Was there a nigger with them?" asked Osborne.

"Yes," answered Howells, and gave his descrip-
tion.

"That's my nigger," said Osborne; "and I am
after him, bound to have him, dead or alive. I want
you to raise a company of * men and help me capture
him. I will pay you well for it."

"1 don't much Uke that kind of business," said
Howells.

"Oh, ril make you like it," added Osborne; "I
have plenty of money."

A glow of hope and comfort warmed my heart. I
liked Howells' expression, and thought perhaps he
might aid me if I could enlist his sympathy for the
fugitive. I dismounted and said : * ' Well, we will
have our horses fed, get some refreshment, and talk
the matter over." Howells invited us to walk into
the house while he and his son took our horses to the
stable. I told Osborne to go in and I would go to
the stable to give directions about feeding our
horses. I was all excitement, for I felt that the crisis
was near. Now was the time to act, if I succeeded
in saving Jack. It would be difficult to describe
my feelings, my intense anxiety. I had traveled one

THE STORY OF JACK BARNES. 47

hundred and twenty miles without sleep or rest,
yet I felt no symptoms of sleepiness or fatigue.
After giving directions to the young man about
feeding our horses, I took Squire Howells to one
side and ventured to make a confidant of him. I
told him that Osborne and I were from the same
county in North Carolina, and that I fell in company
with him that morning as I was traveling in this
direction on business; that Osborne was in pursuit
of my uncle — the man with the wagon, who was
going to Indiana — believing that he had one of his
negroes with him. I gave him Osborne's story,
about hearing that his slave had got hold of free
papers; then pictured Osborne's character. I said
that the master was a cruej tyrant, and that the
slave was a faithful servant who ran away on account
of the inhuman treatment he received, and lay out
in the woods and thickets for several months. Os-
borne bore such a character for cruelty in the neigh-
borhood, that even the slaveholders would not aid
him in capturing his negro. After relating this, I
went on to say that I did not believe the negro with
my uncle was Osborne's slave, but another fugitive,
and then gave the story of Jack Barnes. I said that
before reaching the road, on top of the mountain,
leading to Burk's Fork settlement, which I had
intended to take, Osborne had insisted on my coming
with him to help him capture his slave, and feeling
pretty certain that the negro in question was not his
Sam, but Jack Barnes, I had come on hoping to be
of use in another way. Jack, in my opinion, was
entitled to his freedom, having been willed free by

REMINISCENCES.

his master, and if this were he, I would have noth-
ing to do with recapturing him. But if it proved to
be Osborne's negro, I would do what I could in
aiding the master to* recover his property. I did
not tell Howells all I knew ; I did not tell him that
Sam, Osborne's slave, was lying in the hay-mow in
my father's barn when I left home, nor that I knew
to a certainty that the negro with my uncle was
Jack Barnes.

Howells said at once: '*If it is the negro you
describe, he ought to be free ; I would not detain
him a moment, but would much rather help him on
his way."

I told him Osborne's plan was to raise a company
of armed men, surround the camp and take the fugi-
tive, dead or alive. If it proved to be Jack Barnes,
Osborne would drag him back to slavery for the
sake of the reward offered.

I said : * * I hope you will go with us, and help me
in my efforts to save Jack from such a fate."

He replied: ** Since hearing your statement I
have concluded to go with you. In regard to the
other part, it will depend entirely on the class of
men Osborne gets to go with him. However, I
think I can manage that. I will take my son for
one, and send for one of my near neighbors, and we
will pick up a few more on the way."

Some relief came to my overburdened mind, and
I felt quite hopeful. We went into the house and
found Osborne dancing in the bar-room; he had
been drinking, and was quite jubilant over the pros-

THE STORY OF JACK BARNES.

pect of soon having his negro secured with the hand-
cuffs and rope he had in his saddle-bags.

I told him tliat Squire Howells had agreed to go
with us, and would collect a company of men to
surround the camp.

*'How many do you want?" asked Howells.

"A half dozen or more, beside Mr. Coffin and
myself^ and all must be armed, for if the rascal at-
tempts to escape, I want him shot down. I would
much rather kill him than let him get away ; he has
been too much trouble to me already. I will give
Mr. Coffin one of my pistols ; he says he has none."

Howells' neighbor came, bringing his gun, How-
ells and his son took their guns, and mounting our
horses we started for the camp, six miles distant. It
was now about midnight. As we traveled on, How-
ells called at several houses a little off the road, leav-
ing us in the road till he returned. He thus gained
time to talk with the men and give them the right
side of the story. Three more joined us, increasing
our party to eight. All were armed but myself; I
declined accepting a pistol from Osborne, telling
him I did not believe in killing folks. We were
now getting very near the Six-Mile Branch, and
my heart throbbed with intense excitement. A
few minutes more would decide it all. We soon
espied the camp-fire and retreated a little way to
hold a consultation, and settle the plan of operation.

Howells struck a match and looked at his watch ;
it was near daylight. Now was my time, and I
nerved myself to the effort, feeling that I needed
the eloquence of the most gifted orator to aid me

jQ REMINISCENCES.

in making the appeal in behalf of poor Jack. I told
the men that before we formed our plan of attack,
I had something to say to them, and then went on
to state: **If the negro in camp with my uncle is
Osborne's Sam, I will do all I can to secure him, but
I am inclined to think it is another man, a negro
who was willed free by his master for his merito-
rious conduct." Then I gave the circumstances of
the will case, and described Jack's character in glow-
ing terms, adding the testimony of the recommend-
ation signed by the leading white citizens of his
own neighborhood. I said that Jack had worked in
our settlement all winter, but since learning the
news that the will had been broken and he was con-
signed to slavery, he had disappeared, and I pre-
sumed he was with my uncle trying to make his way
to a free State. If this is the man we find in camp,
I further said, I will have nothing to do with cap-
turing him.

Howells said: '*Mr. Coffin appears to act from
principle, and I think he will find us men of princi-
ple too. If it should be the negro described, he
ought to be free, and I would much rather aid him
on his way to liberty than detain him."

The rest of Howells' company joined with him,
and Osborne seeing them all agreed, turned clever
fellow too, and said if it were not his negro he would
have nothing to do with him. But he still thought
it would prove to be Sam. I now told them I had
another proposition to make :

*'If we were to surround the camp and break in
suddenly upon the sleepers, it would be a great

THE STORY OF JACK BARNES. 5 1

shock and alarm to them. They would find them-
selves attacked by armed men, and seeing me in the
midst would be greatly bewildered. The fright
might prove an injury to the young lady, my cousin,
who is with her father. As it is now near daybreak,
I propose that we wait till daylight, when I will go
up to the camp alone, leaving you concealed in the
woods and thick underbrush. I will introduce my-
self to my uncle and give him privately to under-
stand what is going on, and if the negro with them
is Sam, I will make some excuse in his hearing, pass
on a little way, then take a circuit through the
bushes, and return to you. Then we will hitch our
horses here, slip up through the thick bushes, and,
surrounding the camp, pounce upon Sam and secure
him. But if I find that it is Jack, I will soon ride
back in sight of you and give a signal for you to
come up to camp."

All agreed to this but Osborne, who objected to
the plan, fearing he should lose his negro. I argued
the matter with him and told him if his negro es-
caped by that plan, I would obligate myself to pay
for him. The rest thought this was a fair offer, and
Osborne, seeing they were against him, finally sub-
mitted. When daylight had fully appeared, I rode
up to camp. They were greatly surprised at my
unexpected appearance in the wild mountain regions
of Virginia at such an hour. I hastily informed them
of my errand. Jack was much alarmed and wanted
to flee to the bushes, but I assured them there was
no danger and induced him to remain where he was.
I then rode back in sight of the company and gave

REMimSOENCES.

them the signal to come forward. They advanced
to the camp, presenting a formidable appearance
with their guns, enough to strike terror to poor
Jack's heart. My uncle and cousin knew Osborne
and shook hands with him heartily. There was a
general greeting for the rest of the party, then my
uncle got out a jug of old peach brandy from his
wagon, and passed the contents freely around. We
all drank, and had a hearty laugh, which made the
woods and rocks around us ring and echo. The
morning was clear and bright, the load of care was
off my heart, and^I was jubilant.

But poor Jack did not partake of our merriment
He still feared danger, and thought that the party of
armed men had come to take him back to slavery.
When brought face to face with him, Osborne ac-
knowledged that it was not his negro^ but said, ** He
looks a d sight like that rascal Sam.'*

After some time spent in talking, joking, and par-
taking of my uncle's good peach brandy, I told Os-
borne that I would stay and breakfast with my uncle's
party and see them off. He might return to the
tavern with friend Howells and get breakfast and
have his horse fed, and I would join him there.

This gave me an opportunity to explain matters
more fully to my uncle's party, and to remove Jack's
doubts and fears. He expressed heartfelt thanks
to me for my efforts in his behalf, and I felt repaid
for my long fatiguing journey and intense mental
anxiety. I spent an hour or two with them, then
bade them good-by, wishing that they might have

THE STORY OF JACK BARNES.

a safe and pleasant journey, and land Jack in In-
diana, beyond the reach of the cruel task-master.

I now turned my face homeward. The excitement
was over, the anxiety was gone. In looking back
O'er the work of the past few days, I felt that the
hand of God was in it. He had blessed my efforts;
he had guided my steps; he had strengthened my
judgment. My heart was full of thankfulness to
my Heavenly Father for his great mercy and favor;
my eyes filled with tears, and I wept for joy. Then,
as I rode along slowly through the thick woods, I
reflected on what I should do next. Osborne was
waiting for me at Squire Howells' tavern, and I must
soon join him. I did not want his company on the
homeward journey, but knew not how to get rid of
it. He had promised to accompany me to Burk's
Fork, where he understood I had business. That
would be ten or fifteen miles out of our way, but I
saw no other way to make my story good and keep
him blinded in regard to my real mission. While
pondering on this dilemma, I arrived at Howells',
and soon saw a way out of my difficulties. In that
State, magistrates had certain days to attend to law
business, and this was one of Squire Howells' days.
Several men had already come, on law business, and
as Osborne and I were talking about our route, I saw
a man whom I knew ride up and dismount from his
horse. He lived in Burk's Fork settlement, near my
Uncle Stanley's farm. I had had some acquaintance
with him the previous fall, and when I went out and
met him, he recognized me. I told Osborne to
have his horse got out and we would be off; mean-

REMINISCENCES.

while I took this man apart and entered into convti^
sation with him. I asked him all the questions I
could think of about my uncle's cattle, and his grass
farm and the man who lived on it, inquiring if he
gave proper attention to the cattle out on the range,
salting them frequently to keep them tame and gen-
tle, etc., etc.

I then went to Osborne and told him that I had
been quite fortunate; I had met a man right from
Burk's Fork, a reliable person to whom I committed
my business, and now we were saved the time and
trouble of going out of the way — we could go di-
rectly home. This seemed to please him, and it
was certainly a relief to mc. He got his bottle filled
at the bar, then wc mounted our horses and set our
faces homeward. My fleet mare kept up wonder-
fully; she traveled well, though for two days and
nights she had had little rest. As for myself, I was
exceedingly weary ; the sharp tension of mind and
body was relaxed, and I felt the need of sleep and
rest When night overtook us, we were in a poor,
thinly settled region, and though we asked for enter-
tainment at all the private houses — some of them
mere huts — which we passed, we were not taken in^
and had to travel till eleven o'clock before we reach-
ed a tavern. We had our horses put up and called
for supper, and it was after midnight when we got
to bed. I felt worn out and fell into a hard sleep ;
arising in the morning but little refreshed. After an
early breakfast, we started again, and pursued oui
journey together very pleasantly. The next day we
arrived at home, and Osborne and I parted on gooc

THE STORY OF JACK BARNES,

terms ; he iived eight or ten miles from my father's.

I was warmly greeted by my parents and friends;
they had felt anxious about me and were elated with
my success. The night after my return Sam slept
in the hay-mow of my father's barn. I carried
victuals to him and told him the story of my journey
with his master. He evinced his emotion during
the recital by various exclamations in a subdued
tone. We dared not speak aloud, not knowing who
might be lurking around in the dark, watching for
him or some other fugitive.

About two weeks afterward, Osborne came to my
Other's house to get me to go with him to hunt his
negro. He said he thought Sam was skulking
about in that neighborhood, probably hiding dur-
ing the day in the thickets between our house and
old Dr. Caldwell's. He thought Dr. Caldwell's
negroes fed him, for he heard that runaways often

lay in those thickets and were fed by those d d

niggers. My father reproved him for using profane
language, and he replied :

"It's enough to make anybody swear. I have
lost time and money looking after that rascal. I
can hear of his skulking around Dr. Caldwell's
nigger huts, but can't find him. I have got ac-
quainted with your son, Mr. Coffin, and think him
a fine young fellow ; I had rather trust him than
anybody in this neighborhood. I don't know the
woods among these thickets, and want him to go
with me."

I said I would go, as I was well acquainted with
all the paths and byways through the woods, hav-

56 REMINISCENCE&

ing often traversed them when hunting fgr deer and
wild turkeys, or looking after our out hogs. Father
then invited Osborne to eat dinner with us and have
his horse fed. He accepted the invitation, and my
fether was very social and friendly with him, but
reproved him if he used profane language, as he
frequently did in common conversation. After din-
ner 1 got out my horse and his, and we started
off slave-hunting. Rather novel business for me, I
thought, but I guess I knew what I was about. Old
Dr. Caldwell lived a mile and a half east of my
father's place. The space between the two farms
was densely overgrown with small trees, shrubs and
vines — the large timber having been destroyed by
fire son>e years before. These thickets were the
resort of wild game of different kinds, and formed
also good hiding-places for fugitive slaves. In some
of these, near Dr. Caldwell's, Osborne supposed
Sam to be lurking, but I knew that he was then sit-
ting in a thicket, half a mile northeast of my father's,
weaving baskets. Caldwell's slaves were frequently
permitted to go to the neighbors after night to sell
the baskets which they had woven during spare ^
hours, and in this way they disposed of Sam's bas-
kets for him. Only that morning I had taken him
some victuals when I went to feed some of our out
hogs that ranged in that direction- I guided Osborne
toward the southeast, to a dense thicket not far from
Dr. Caldwell's. Dismounting from our horses, we
hunted through this thoroughly, and followed a
spring branch to its source in another thicket look-
ing for tracks made by Sam's feet when he came to

THE STORY OF JACK BARNES. 57

get water. We then searched in neighboring thick-
ets but found no trace of Sam. I guided Osborne far-
ther to the south all the time^ widening the distance
between him and the object of his search. Quite
discouraged at finding no track of Sam, Osborne
finally gave up the hunt, and we rode out of the
bushes into the Greensboro road. Osborne of-
fered to pay me for my time and trouble, but I
refused to take anything ; then he thanked me for
my services and we parted. I reached home about
sunset, feeling that I should be well satisfied if that
was my last slave hunt. Osborne afterward re-
marked to some one that there was not .1 man in

that neighborhood worth a d n to help him hunt

his negro, except young Levi Coffin.

About this time one of our neighbors, named
David Grose — a man respected by all who knew
him — sold his farm, and prepared to move with his
&mily to the State of Indiana. Vestal Coffin and I
held frequent consultations about Sam,, knowing
that he was liable to be captured so long as he
remained in the neighborhood, and we thought this
was a good opportunity to get him to a free State,
if David Grose was willing to assume the risk. We
knew Grose to be a kind-hearted, benevolent man,
of anti-slavery sentiments, but whether he would be
willing to undertake anything so hazardous was a
question to be decided. We concluded to go to his
house and lay the matter before him. He seemed
deeply interested in Sam's case, and said he would
consult his wife and consider the subject. Having
never seen Sam, he expressed a desire to see and

58.

REMINISCENCES.

talk with him, and ascertain if he was a bright,
shrewd fellow, who could be relied on to act up to
arrangements, and carry out plans for traveling, etc.
Vestal and I agreed to bring Sam to Grose's house
between twelve and one o'clock on a night ap-
pointed. It was unsafe to come at an earlier hour,
for there might be persons passing about who would
betray us. It was death, by the law of North
Carolina, to steal negroes, and a heavy penalty to
feed or harbor a runaway slave. At the time ap-
pointed, and on several subsequent nights, we ac-
companied Sam to Grose's house and held confer-
ences in a private room, maturing our plans and
fixing the time for starting. One night we narrowly
escaped being detected by the patrol, a body of
armed men who acted as watchmen or mounted
police. They acted chiefly in the interest of the
slaveholders, arresting all slaves they found out at
night without passes from their masters, and admin-
istering to them severe whippings, and keeping a
sharp look-out for fugitives.

On the occasion referred to. Vestal and I, in com-
pany with Sam, were going along the main road,
about twelve o'clock at night, on our way to Grose's
house. Suddenly hearing the sound of horses' feet
coming toward us, we sprang out of the road and
threw ourselves down behind a large log in the
woods. We had no time to get further away, and
lay close to the ground, hoping to escape detection,
while our hearts throbbed with excitement, and the
sound of horses' feet came nearer and nearer. When
the party passed us, we heard the riders talking, and

THE STORY OF J A CK BARNES. jg

learned from their conversation that they were the
patrol. They were talking about capturing runaway
slaves, telling of their exploits in that business, and
boasting of how many niggers they had whipped.
Their conversation was plentifully interlarded with
oaths. I well remember the thoughts that passed
through my mind as I lay behind that log. I felt
that I could fully realize the sensation of the poor
hunted fugitive as he lay in woods or thickets, trem-
bling lest any sound that greeted his ear should
prove to be the step of a pursuer, come to drag him
back to cruel bondage. I could appreciate the anx-
iety and distress that filled his mind as he wandered
about in search of food, perhaps bearing on his back,
in marks that were bleeding and sore, the cruel cuts
of his master's lash. I could realize vividly his for-
lorn situation, exposed to the rain and cold and
obliged to suffer from hunger, unless he could steal
food or find some person who would venture to vio-
late the laws of the land and give him something to
eat, and allow him to seek shelter in the hay-mow
of his barn. When the patrol had passed, and we
heard the sound of their horses' feet dying away in
the dfstance, we arose from our hiding-place, speak-
ing to each other in whispers, and slipped silently
through the woods in the darkness. Finally, we
ventured to return to the road, and hearing no sound
of horseman or foot traveler, we resumed our jour-
ney, stepping as lightly as we could. We approach-
ed David Grose's house cautiously, not knowing
what enemy might be lying in wait. The dog, which
was fast in his kennel, gave a short bark, but soon

6o REMINISCENCES.

became quiet, and we passed around to the kitchen,
where David was waiting for us.

The windows were darkened, and a dim light was
burning inside. David admitted us, and we soon
completed the arrangement for Sam to accompany
him to Indiana. He had a large wagon, drawn by
four horses, and intended to take what was called
the Kentucky road, crossing the Blue Ridge at
Ward's Gap, crossing New River near Wythe Court-
House, Virginia, thence by way of Abingdon, cross-
ing Cumberland River near Knoxville, thence over
the Cumberland mountains and through Kentucky
to Cincinnati, Ohio. He agreed to take the bundle
of clothing we had prepared for Sam, in his wagon ;
Sam was to travel at night, and come up to the camp
each morning before daylight to get his breakfast
and enough provisions to last him through the day,
while hiding in the bushes. The road was rough,
and led over hills and mountains the greater part
of the way, and the movers would not be able to
make more than twenty miles a day ; so Sam could
easily keep up with them.

Where the road forked, Grose was to leave a green
bush or some other sign in the road he had taken,
in order to guide Sam, and when he approached
rivers that must be crossed by ferries, he would
camp near the bank and wait for Sam to come up,
then conceal him in the wagon, and thus convey him
to the other side.

Matters were now all arranged, and understood by
both parties. Our conference closed, and as it was

THE STORY OF JACK BARNES, gj

near daylight we hurried away, Vestal and I to our
separate homes, Sam to our hay-mow.

Some shrowd young men, not over-conscientious
about violating the slave laws of the State, believing
that every man was entitled to liberty who had not
forfeited that God-given right by crime, managed to
get hold of free papers belonging to a free colored
man in the neighborhood, and copied them, counter-
feiting the names of the signers as well as they could,
not stopping to consider the severe penalty attached
to such violations of the law. It was so managed
that the papers were given to Sam by a slave, and
he was instructed not to use them unless he should
get into a tight places-even then they might not
save him.

The night after Grose and his family started on
their journey, we sent Sam on horseback, with a
trusty young man, to my Uncle Samuel Stanley's,
about ten miles on his route. According to arrange-
ments, previously made, he was to remain there that
night and the next day, then, on the following night,
oveitake the movers.

But next day, my cousin, Jesse Stanley, being
about to start on a short business journey to the west,
concluded to give Sam a lift by taking him to drive
his carriage as far as he traveled on Sam's road. He
thought that he would incur no risk, as Sam was now
out of the neighborhood where he was known. But
it was a daring venture, and afterward involved my
cousin in trouble, for, while traveling the main road,
they met a man living near Greensboro, who was
returning from Salem, Stokes County, to his home.

62 REMINISCENCES,

He did not know my cousin, but recognized Sam at
once, though he did not speak. We will refer to
this again.

Sam overtook the movers that night and traveled
on, as arranged, lying by in the daytime and pursuing
his journey at night. He got along all right for
more than a week, having in this time crossed the
Blue Ridge, and traveled some distance in Virginia.
One morning he came up to the party, then camped
on the Abingdon road, some distance beyond Wythe
Court-House, but still in Wythe County. He got
his supply of food as usual, then retired some dis-
tance from the road to find a safe hiding-place among
the hills. He remained in a dense thicket during the
day, and at night attempted to make his way into
the main road. But he heard wolves howling near
him, and suddenly found himself surrounded by a
hungry pack, their eyes glaring like balls of fire in
the darkness. He had no weapon but a pocket-
knife, and that was useless against such enemies.
Seizing a club, he beat his way through them and
reached a by-road, but was so frightened and bewil-
dered that he knew not which way to turn to reach
the main road. Running as fast as he could to escape
the wolves, he heard dogs barking, and guided by the
sound, made his way to a cabin. It was inhabited by
the class of people known down South as poor white
trash. He ventured in and inquired the way to the
main road, saying he belonged to a party of movers,
going to Tennessee, who had camped a few miles
ahead on the Abingdon road. He said he had been
sent back to look for something left behind, and had

THE STORY OF JACK BARNES, 63

lost his way. The people seemed friendly and invited
him, saying that they would send for one of the
neighbors to go with him and show him the way.
Sam suspected no danger and came into the cabin,
to rest from his hasty run and his fright. In a short
time the boy who had been sent to the neighbors
returned, accompanied by two men. Poor Sam now
saw that he was in a trap. There was but one door
to the cabin, and the men stood in that, looking
at him fiercely and questioning him closely. They
accused him of being a runaway slave, which he
denied, but could produce no free papers to prove
his assertion — the papers furnished him being with
his bundle of clothes in the wagon. The men seized
him and tied him fast, believing him to be a runaway
slave, and hoping no doubt to receive a large reward
for capturing so valuable a piece of property. Next
day he was taken back to Wythe Court-House and
put in jail, no camp of movers being discovered in
the neighborhood where he was captured.

In slave States every negro was regarded as a
slave unless he could produce evidence that he was
tree, and when one was captured and it could not be
ascertained who his master was, he was advertised in
the county newspapers. A full description of him
was given, and if no owner applied for him within the
time fixed by law, he was sold to the highest bid-
der ; part of the money being used to pay jail fees
and other expenses, the rest going into the county
treasury. Sam would not give his master's name,
still claiming that he was free, and he was adver-
tised. The advertisement was copied in the Greens-

REMINISCENCES.

boro Patriot, and Osborne saw it. Believing the
person described to be his slave Sam, he went to
Wythe Court-House, Virginia, and claimed him.
He put poor Sam in irons and started homeward,
but never brought him back to Guilford County.
The story he told afterward was that he had re-
turned by way of Salisbury, North Carolina, and
there sold Sam to a slave-trader. We only had Os-
borne's statement for this, and some thought that he
was wicked and revengeful enough to have whipped
poor Sam to death in some wild spot in the Virginia
mountains ; others thought, however, that even his
desire for revenge would not lead him to sacrifice so
valuable a piece of property. At any rate, that is
the last we ever heard of poor Sam.

Some time after Osborne returned from Virginia,
he learned that Sam had been seen driving my
Cousin Jesse Stanley's carriage, just before he
started for the Northwest. After getting all the
necessary evidence, he set about procuring a writ to
arrest Stanley for negro stealing. This crime, it will
be remembered, was punishable by death according
to the laws of that State. I received intelligence of
Osborne's intentions while at my school. I was
then teaching near Deep River Meeting-House,
about eight miles from , my home. During the
week I boarded with a family near by, riding home
at the last of the week. The news reached me
about noon one day, and I immediately adjourned
my school till the next week, telling my pupils that
special business claimed my attention.

I kept my horse at my boarding-place, and it

THE STORr OF JACK JBASNES.

did not take long for me to saddle and bridle it,
mount, and be off. My Uncle Samuel Stanley lived
ten miles away, near the western line of Guilford
County. I made the distance in a short time, and
informed my uncle's family of the threatened danger.
They were of course greatly alarmed, and immedi-
ately beg^n to ask what should be done. My Cousin
Jesse was about my own age, and we were much
attached to each other, seeming more like brothers
than cousins. I entered fully into the feelings
of the family, and advised Jesse to flee from the
State at once. It was decided that he should go
to Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, where he had rela-
tives. The distance was fully six hundred miles, and
there was no public conveyance by the route he
must go. He must travel on horseback and start
immediately ; there was no time for deliberate prepa-
ration or leave-taking. He needed a new coat and
hat, and as I happened to have on a good coat and
a new hat, I exchanged with him. We fitted him
out as well as we could on such short notice, and his
horse was brought to the door. I agreed to travel
with him that night, for company, and see him safely
out of the State.

We started about sunset and traveled a by-way
till dark — then came out into the main road. We
made good progress and soon got out of Guilford
County, and into Rockingham County, which bor-
dered on Virginia. I continued with him until we
crossed into Virginia, then bade him good-by and
returned to my father's house, much fatigued with
6

gg REMINISCENCES,

my journey, but rejoiced to know that my cousin
was safe from the clutches of the law.

He arrived safely in Philadelphia, where he soon
engaged in teaching. He continued in that profession
about twelve years, marrying in the meantime an
excellent woman with whom he lived happily. After
an absence of nearly twenty years he paid a visit to
his friends in North Carolina, but heard nothing of
Osborne's writ for negro stealing. I might relate
here that after my cousin left the country, Osborne
searched for evidence that might implicate others for
harboring his slave. He finally learned that Sam
had been seen at Abel Stanley's, Jesse's uncle.
Abel at that time had sold his farm, intending to
move to Indiana. Hearing that Osborne was pre-
paring to have him arrested, he fled from, the State,
leaving his family'to complete the arrangements for
moving and join him in Indiana. The rest of us,
who were more deeply involved in the crime of har-
boring and feeding the fugitive slave, than either of
the Stanleys, escaped detection, and were never
troubled by Osborne.

In the fall of 1822, the year after David Grose
had left North Carolina, I accompanied my brother-
in-law, Benjamin White, and his family to Indiana.
We traveled the same road that David Grose had
tra\eled, camping out every night as was the cus-
tom of movers at that day. While passing through
Wythe County, Virgina, we camped near the place
where Sam had been taken, and there learned all
the particulars of his being chased by wolves, his
capture and imprisonment. When we reached Rich-

THE STORY OF JACK BARNES.

mond, Indiana — near which place my brother-in-law
located for the winter — I inquired for Jack Barnes
and learned that he lived at Milton, about fifteen
miles to the west. Having relatives at that place,
I went there, in a few days, traveling on horseback.
As I rode into the village, almost the first man I
saw was Jack Barnes. As soon as he recognized
me, he hastened to me and clasped me in his arms,
uttering exclamations of joy and gratitude that at-
tracted the passers-by. A little crowd of people gath-
ered, and Jack told them that I had saved him from
slavery, that if it had not been for me, he would
have been dragged back to prison and perhaps
sold to the rice swamps of Georgia, or the cotton
fields of Alabama, where his only allowance of food
would have been a peck of corn a week. When his
first excitement was over, he wanted to give me
some money, to repay me for my trouble and exer-
tion on his behalf. I told him that I was amply
repaid and would not receive a cent. Jack had got
employment at good wages, had been industrious
and frugal, and had accumulated property. Milton
was a new place then ; Jack had bought a lot and
built the first cottage in the village. He had many
friends in the place, and it would have been a diffi-
cult task for Osborne, Barnes' heirs, or anybody
else, to have captured Jack and taken him away from
Milton.

Early in the following spring, I went to Terre
Haute, Vigo County, to enter land for my brother-
in-law, and finding that David Grose had settled in
that county, several miles below, I went to visit

REMINISCENCES.

him, receiving a warm welcome. He still had Sam's
bundle of clothing, but had not heard a word about
him since the morning he left their camp in Wythe
County, Virginia, to hunt a place of concealment
during the day among the thickets. On the foUow-
lowing morning, when he did not join them as usual,
they felt much anxiety about him, fearing that he had
got lost or been captured, or that some accident had
befallen him. They still hoped that he might over-
take them the following night, but when the next
night came and no Sam appeared, they gave him
up. Since locating in Indiana they had seen no
person from North Carolina, of whom they could
inquire, and until I arrived they were in the dark
regarding the fate of poor Sam.

TEACHING SLAVES TO READ. gg

CHAPTER III.

TEACHING SLAVES TO READ — SABBATH-SCHOOL WORK —
AGITATION OF THE ANTI-SLAVERY CAUSE — MANU-
MISSION SOCIETIES — ^^RIP TO INDIANA — INCIDENTS
ON THE WAY — THE EARLY SETTLEMENTS OF IN-
DIANA—I ENGAGE IN SCHOOL LABORS — ORGANIZA-
TION OF THE FIRST SABBATH -SCHOOL IN WESTERN
INDIANA — A VISIT TO ILLINOIS — LOST ON THE
PRAIRIE — SPRINGFIELD, ILLINOIS, FIFTY YEARS AGO

—CONCLUSION OF SCHOOL LABORS IN INDIANA

RETURN TO NORTH CAROLINA — SHORT TRIP TO
VIRGINIA.

IN the summer of 1821, my cousin. Vestal Coffin,
suggested to me that we should organize a Sab-
bath-school for the colored people, and endeavor to
obtain the consent of the slaveholders in the neigh-
borhood to teach their slaves to read. We knew
that the Caldwell family — the old doctor, and two or
three of his sons who lived on their own plantations —
and a few other slaveholders, were lenient and would
have no objection to our teaching their slaves to
read the the Bible. I heartily united with my
cousin in this project, and we visited the Caldwells,
the Dokes, and a few other slaveholders, and ob-
tained the desired permission. It was arranged that

70 REMINISCENCES,

the slaves should come one Sabbath afternoon to
the brick school-house, near New Garden Meeting-
House. They collected at the time appointed,
wondering at the new and unexpected privilege
which had been accorded them. Among them was
one of Thomas Caldwell's slaves, called Uncle Frank.
He was a gray-haired old negro who had all his life
been kept in ignorance, but his heart was full of love
for God, and he was thankful for this opportunity of
learning to read the Bible. He was quite a preacher
in his way, and frequently exhorted the slaves in
the neighborhood. On this occasion, he made a
long and fervent prayer. He said : "I pray dat de
good massa Lord will put it into dc niggers' hearts to
larn to read de good book. Oh, Lord, make de let-
ters in our spellin* books big and plain, and make
our eyes bright and shinin', and make our hearts big
and strong for to larn. Make our minds sharp and
keen ; yes, Lord, as sharp as a double-edged sword,
so dat we can see clean through dc book. Oh,
Hebbenly Fader, we tank De for makin' our massas
willin' to let us come to dis school, and oh. Lord,
do bress dese dear young men you has made willin'
to come heah and larn us poor slave niggers to read
de bressed word from de mouf of God. Oh, Lord,
teach us to be good sarvents, and touch our massas'
hearts and make 'em tender, so dey will not lay de
whips to our bare backs, and you, great Massa, shall
have all de glory and praise. Amen."

Then the negroes broke out with one of their
plantation songs or hymns, led by Uncle Frank ; a

SABBA THJSCHOOL&

sort of prayer in rhyme, in which the same words
occurred again and again.

After this was over, we arranged them in separate
classes, and began to teach them the alphabet. It
was new business to them, and they were so excited
with the novelty of the situation that they accom-
plished little that day. The next Sabbath they
made better progress, and in a short time some of
them had mastered the alphabet and began to spell
words of two or three letters. Others, mostly adults,
were dull, and hard to teach, though they tried hard.
After we had continued the school every Sabbath
for the most of the summer, and had been encour-
aged by the progress of some of our pupils, we
found that we would be obliged to give it up.
Some of the neighboring slaveholders, who were not
friendly to our work, threatened to put the law in
force against us, and visiting those who had let their
slaves attend our school, told them they were guilty
as well as the teachers, and that the school must be
discontinued. They said that it made their slaves
discontented and uneasy, and created a desire for
the privileges that others had.

Our pupils were kept at home, and we were
obliged to give up our school and succumb to the
influence of the slave laws. Thus ended our slave
teaching.

SABBATH SCHOOLS.

Strange as it may seem to us now, there were then
no Sabbath-schools in that part of the country, either
among Friends or other religious denominations. I
think it was about 1818 when a few of the young

REMINISCENCES.

people of our society, at New Garden, met together
to consult about organizing a Sabbath-school. ^ I
was among the number, and took an active part, for
it was a subject in which I was deeply interested.
Our conference resulted in opening a Sabbath-school
in our new brick school-house, at New Garden.
With few exceptions, we had no encouragement
from parents and older Friends. On the contrary,
we had much opposition to contend with. The
school was small at first, but increased in numbers,
and was soon large and interesting. It was the first
Sabbath-school that I have any knowledge of in that
part of the country. My cousin, Elijah Coffin, and
my sister Beulah, afterward the wife of Daniel Puck-
ett, a noted minister among Friends, were our ablest
instructors. The results of the school were ver>'
satisfactory to all engaged in it, and instilled into
my heart a love for Sabbath-school work that in-
creased as I grew in years, and has continued with
me even to the present time.

In the spring of 1822, I opened my first school,
having previously served as assistant teacher.

I continued this business for more than three years,
in different neighborhoods, and assisted in organiz-
ing Sabbath-schools in various places.

When I opened my first school, I had no prospect
of continuing in the business long, for I felt that my
qualifications were not sufficient for so responsible a
work, but meeting with success in my school, gain-
ing the affection of the pupils and the approbation of
their parents, I felt encouraged to continue. I had
a deep concern for tlie moral and religious welfare

ANTISLA VERY MA TTERS. 73

•

of my associates, for though young in years, I had
experienced a change of heart. I had an earnest
desire to exercise a good influence over those of my
own age, and younger, who were my companions^
and felt that I would have an opportunity to do so
if I continued teaching. I found no difficulty in the
government of my school ; I loved order and system,
and after I gained the affection of my pupils, they
yielded a ready and cheerful obedience to all my
rules and regulations. I look back to those years
as the pleasantest of my life, and regard my labors
in teaching and establishing Sabbath-schools with
much satisfaction. The attachments then formed
between teacher and pupils have never been broken,
and though more than fifty years have passed, I still
meet, now and then, in different parts of the West,
those who were associated with me in school, and
they recur with pleasure to the days we spent to-
gether.

ANTI-SLAVERY MATTERS.

During the time I was engaged in teaching, I was
not idle in anti-slavery matters. The subject of
gradual emancipation, or manumission of slaves,
was agitated in various parts of the State. A paper,
called the Greensboro Patriot^ was started at Greens-
boro, edited by William Swaim, a young man of
rare talent. He advocated the manumission of
slaves, and though he met with a storm of oppo-
sition and was assailed by other papers, he con-
tinued his course boldly and independently. He
received letters from various parts of the State fuU
of threats and warnings. These he published in his

REMINISCENCES,

paper, and replied to them in editorials. Many
public speakers and writers engaged in discussion
with him, but they could not cope with him, and
generally retired from the combat much worsted.
. Some plan of gradual manumission was the theme;
of general discussion at that day, but none of the
advocates spoke or seemed to think of immediate
and unconditional emancipation. Manumission so-
cieties were organized in different counties. The
first, I believe, was organized at New Garden; Guil-
ford County. I was a member of it, and can well
remember the proceedings. We also had severa.1
State Conventions, which were largely attended, and
at which addresses were delivered and speeches
made, by prominent men. The various branches
were represented by .delegates. The first conven-
tion of this kind was held at Jamestown, in Guil-
ford County, and William Swaim, editor of the
Greensboro Patriot, took an active part in the pro-
ceedings. His cousin Moses, a lawyer of Randolph
County> delivered a lengthy and able address, which
was afterward printed and widely circulated. It was
a strong aboHtion speech, and would not have been
allowed a few years later. Several lenient slave-
holders united with us in those meetings, and advo-
cated plans for gradual manumission. About this
time the same subject was agitated in East Tennes-
see, and similar societies organized in that part of
the State.

Benjamin Lundy, of that locality, started a paper.
Called the Genius of Universal Emancipation^ which
I 3ub$cribed for and read, as long as it. was published.

ANTISLAVERY MATTERS.

At our next convention, which was held at New
Garden Meeting-House, EHhu Emory and James
Jones, of East Tennessee, attended as delegates
from that State. Both were active members of the
Society of Friends — able men and good speakers.
The last convention that I attended was held at
General Gray's, in Randolph County. He was a
wealthy man and owned a number of slaves, but
was interested in our movement. The meeting was
held in his large new barn, which was covered but
not weather-boarded, and which afforded ample room
for the assembly. Quite a number of slaveholders
were present who favored gradual manumission and
colonization. They argued that if the slaves were
manumitted, they must be sent to Africa; it would
not do for them to remain in this country; they must
return to Africa, and this must be made a condition
of their liberty. A motion was made to amend our
constitution, so that the name of our organiizaton
would be, ** Manumission and Colonization Society."
This produced a sharp debate. Many of us were
opposed to making colonization a condition of free-
dom, believing it to be an odious plan of expatri-
ation concocted by slaveholders, to open a drain by
which they might get rid of free negroes, and thus
remain, in more secure possession of their slave prop-
erty. They considered free negroes a dangerous
element among slaves. We had no objection to free
negroes going to Africa of their own will, but to
compel them to go as a condition of freedom was a
movement to which we were conscientiously opposed
and against wjiich we strongly cpntcnded. When

REMINISCENCES,

the vote was taken, the motion was carried by a
small majority. We felt that the slave power had
got the ascendency in our society, and that wc could
no longer work in it. The convention broke up in
confusion, and our New Garden branch withdrew
to itself, no longer co-operating with the others.
Our little anti-slavery band, composed mostly of
Friends, continued to meet at New Garden until the
majority of the members emigrated to the West,
preferring to live in a free State,

The laws relating to slavery were constantly made
more oppressive. A law was finally passed prohib-
iting slaves who had been set free by their masters
from remaining in the State, except in exceptional
cases, where they had been manumitted for merito-
rious conduct.

Slavery and Quakerism could not prosper together,
and many of the Friends from New Garden and other
settlements moved to the West. In the summer of
1822, my brother-in-law, Benjamin White, sold his
farm and prepared to move with his family to In-
diana. I was anxious to accompany him and visit
the Western States, a strange, new country then,
where so many of my relatives and acquaintances
had settled. With the consent of my parents I en-
gaged to go with him and drive his team to the Far
West, as it was then called, a distance of six hundred
miles. The road we proposed to travel crossed the
Blue Ridge at Ward's Gap, in Western Virginia, led
through East Tennessee and Kentucky, and reached
the Ohio River at Cincinnati. This was considered
the best route for loaded wagons. I was then en-

MY TRIP WEST.

gaged in teaching at Dover Meeting-House, about
ten miles from my father's, but closed my school in
August, and prepared for the journey. My brother-
in-law was provided with a tent and all the necessary
equipments for camping out, and stored provisions
and cooking utensils in his wagon. It was a trial to
part from my dear parents, and from my youngest
sister Priscilla, the only child left at home.

After taking leave of them, I set out oa the jour-
ney with my brother-in-law. Every thing seemed
bright and pleasant before us. The weather was
fine, and the novelty of pitching our tent at night
beneath the tall pines or by the roadside, and camp-
ing out, was very attractive to mc. Our little party,
consisting of my brother-in-law and my sister, their
four children, his niece, and myself, were all in good
spirits, and enjoyed to the utmost the varied and
beautiful scenery of mountain, forest and stream.
We seemed to breathe new life and vigor with every
breath of pure mountain air, and soon accommo-
dated ourselves to the inconveniences of travel. At
night we slept soundly near our camp fire, leaving
our large watch dog to guard the camp. We trav-
eled alone until we had passed Abingdon, Virginia,
when we overtook a six-horse team with two men.
They had been to the lead mines, near New River,
and were returning to their home in Kentucky, near
Crab Orchard. They proved to be pleasant com-
panions, and we agreed to travel together. Al-
though Kentuckians, they were anti-slavery in senti-
ment, and there was perfect harmony between us on
the subject.

^X iiEifiytsoeycES.

One morning, soon after we had left camp, three-
or four rough-looking men rode up hastily behind
us and commanded us to stop. They said they had
Tost a valuable little dog, a pet, and that they be-
lie^'ed we had it concealed in our wagon. We told
them we had not seen it, and had no use for another
dog, having one to each wagon. This did not seem
to satisfy them, and they said they must search our
wagon and see. My brother-in-law told them they
were welcome to look in the wagon. They dis-
mounted from their horses, and after my sister and
her children had got out of the wagon, they crawled
in and tumbled the things about. I said to my
brother-in-law, "We must watch them ot they will
steal something," and, stepping up to the wagon,
took out the rifle we used for shooting game, think-
ing they might take it. The Kentuckians, mean-
while, were standing by their own team, and when
the ruffians had done searching our wagon, they
went to search the other. We knew from the first
that the story about the dog was only a pretense.
We were confident that the party of men were
hunting for a negro, a fugitive slave, and thought it
best to let them satisfy themselves that there was
none with us; otherwise they might continue to
harass and molest us. But the Kentuckians were
not so passive. Tlicir wagon had nothing in it but
lead and horse feed, but they were not willing to
yield to the ruffians the right of search. The
younger Kentuckian stood near the wagon with
the lash of his heavy whip wrapped around his
hand, and the butt clasped between his fingers^

MY TRIP WEST. 75

prepareid to strike a violent blow. Ffe dared thcrrt
to approach, arid said **I would like to see ohe^of
you put your head inside my wagon, I know what
sort of dogis you are hunting. It is runaway negroes
you are aft^r, and I'll venture that neither of you
are able to own a negro. If I had one in my wagon
you could' not get him, for yoii have shown no aiH
thority for searcihing private property." The elder
Kcntuckian added a few sharp words, and the ruf-
fians, not liking to encounter such resolute men,
mounted their horses, and rode away, cursing and
swearing. ' We did hot see them again, and were not
further molested. The next night we camped near
the house of a Methodist minister. Having occasion
to go to the house on an errand, I met the gcntlemari
and entered into conversation with him. He was
pleasant and sociable in his manner and gave me
much information concerning that locality. I saw no
slaves about the house, arid introduced the subject
of slavery. I found that he was opposed to it. I
related our adventure with the party of men, and he
said that we were not the first movers who had been
molested. A gang of ruffians, moved by the pros-
pect of the large reward generally offered in such
cases, frequently stopped emigrant wagons and
searched them for runaway negroes. Not long be-
fore, a negro had been found secreted in a mover's
wagon, on his way to a free State, and had been
captured.

We met with no accident or detention on our
journey, yet we were five weeks on the way. Such"
a rate of progress seems exceedingly slow and tedi^

go REMINISCENCES.

ous in this day of railroads. We camped out all
the way, with the exception of one or two storray
nights. During our travel through the mountains,
I frequently took my rifle and made excursions in
the woods in search of game. I succeeded in killing
several wild turkeys, which made a pleasant addition
to our stock of provisions. In one of these rambles
in search of game, I wandered some distance from
the road, but not out of hearing of the wagons
ahead. I was making my way through the thick
underbrush, with my gim on my shoulder, when I
discovered something moving in the bushes not far
away. I halted to ascertain what it was, and it soon
made its way into an open space and stood in full
view. It was a large black bear, the largest I had
ever seen. It turned its head toward the noise of
the wagons, and thus did not discover me. I low-
ered my gun and took aim, not stopping to think
what the consequence would be if I did not kill it,
though I knew that a wounded and enraged bear
was a dangerous enemy. The ball penetrated its
body but did not kill it. It gave a cry of pain, then
whirled around on its hind feet and made for me.
I turned and ran as fast as I could, calling the dogs.
They had heard the noise and came yelping toward
me. The bear was close behind when they came in
sight, but when it saw them, it turned and plunged
into a thicket. The dogs pursued and soon reached
it. A short but fierce combat ensued, in which the
bear defended itself well. The dogs received so
many hard blows and scratches that they soon re-
tired from the conflict and came running back. The

Mr TRIP WEST. 8i

teams had stopped on hearing the noise of the
affray, and the men came to see what was going on.
I reloaded my gun and we attempted to pursue the
bear, but the dogs had been demoralized in the fight
and we could not induce them to trail it through
the thickets. We hunted for it among the bushes
for nearly an hour, but were obliged to give it up.
This was my first and last experience in bear hunt-
ing.

' After reaching bur destination, in Wayne County,
Indiana,' I spent several weeks in visiting relatives,
then engaged in teaching, near Richmond. My
school-house was near the spot where Earlham Col-
lege now stands. Several pupils, from Richmond,
attended during the winter. After the close of the
term, in early spring, I went to Terre Haute, on the
Wabash River, on business. There was then a
small settlement of iFriends on White Lick, about
twenty miles southwest of Indianapolis, where the
town of Mooresville now stands. That part of the
country was then a wilderness, covered with heavy
timber. My brother-in-law, Benjamin White, and
a few other Friends entered tracts of government
land in that vicinity, and they are now dotted with
thriving towns and villages, and the Western Yearly
Meeting of Friends is held in their midst. This was
in the spring of 1823. Indianapolis, the metropolis
of the State, was then a new town with few houses.
The country between it and Richmond was then
unsettled. Where the National pike and Indiana
Central Railroad now run, there were only a few
paths and wagon trails cut through the bushes.

g2 REMINISCENCES.

Through this wilderness I traveled alone on horse-
back, seeing, no inhabitants after leaving the settle-
ment, on the west fork of White Water, until I
reached a small settlement on Blue River, about
forty miles west of Richmond. Here I turned a
short distance from my route in order to visit Wil-
liam Macy and his wife, who had been my associates
and school-mates in North Carolina. They had emi-
grated to the West a year or two before, and set-
tled, with a few other families from North Carolina,
on Blue River. They had entered a quarter section
of land, most of it rich bottom land, and had built
a little cabin in the woods. When I reached the
cabin, I found the door closed and saw no sign of
life but some squirrels that were frisking about on
the roof. I alighted and knocked at the door, but
gained no response. Just then I heard the sound
of chopping some distance away, and making my
way to the spot I saw William at work with his^ ax,
and his wife piling brush, while their babe sat play-
ing on a blanket spread on the ground.

It was a joyful meeting. My friends stopped
their work and we repaired to the little cabin,
which was built in the most primitive style. It had
but one door, the floor was made of puncheons, or
split timber, and the fireplace was constructed of the
same material plastered with mud. Round poles
served as joists, and had clapboards laid on them to
form the Toft floor. My friends seemed well con-
tented in this humble habitation, and as a number
of other families had entered land near them, they
had a fair prospect of being in the midst of a thriv-

THE BOY AND THE LA WYER. 83

ing and thickly settled neighborhood in the course
of a few years. In the fall of 1826 I visited them
again, and found them living in a good frame-house,
with a large barn and other buildings, surrounded
by a well cleared and valuable farm. They, in com-
mon with the other pioneers of that neighborhood,
were now enjoying comfort and prosperity, the
results of their own industry. They had removed
from North Carolina to get away from the influences
of slavery, and here breathed a free atmosphere.

After visiting my old acquaintances in this local-
ity, I went to the settlement on White Lick, passing
through Indianapolis on the way. The Court-House
was then in process of erection at that place; the
State-House was not built for some time afterward.
The Legislature had not then met there. A news-
paper had just been started, and the editor gave me
a copy. The next day, as I was riding alone through
the thick woods on my way to White Lick, I took
out the paper and opened it. The first thing that
struck my attention was a story of a boy who was
a witness in court, and was severely questioned by
the opposing lawyer who wished to show that his
testimony was not reliable. At last the lawyer said
to the judge: "I don't think the evidence of this
witness can be taken. He does not seem to be
very bright or intelligent. I will ask him some ques-
tions and you can judge for yourself

He then said : "Boy, who made you."

The boy scratched his head and replied : *' I don't
know. I guess Moses did.*'

The lawyer said, triumphantly, " Now, gentlemen

84 REMINISCENCES.

of the court, you can see that what I said was true.
Boy, you may stand aside."

**Stop," said the boy; "I want to ask you some
questions. Can I, judge?" He was permitted to,
and said to the lawyer: "Who made you?*'

The lawyer scratched his head in imitation of the
boy and said: **I don't know. I guess Aaron did."

** Well," said the boy; *' I have heard that Aaron
made a calf, but I didn't know that the thing had
got in here."

The whole audience broke out into a laugh at the
expense of the lawyer. When I came to the end
of the story I laughed aloud, startling the echoes of
the silent woods around me. I stopped my horse
and looked about, to see if anybody had heard me,
but saw no one but a bright-eyed squirrel peering
down at me from a tree.

I reached White Lick settlement and spent sev*
eral days there looking at the land I was to enter,
and selecting an eighty-acre lot for myself. I then
started for Terre Haute, sixty miles distant, having
no road to guide me but an Indian trail, and there
being no settlement on the way, except a small one,
where Greencastle now stands. I reached this place
the first night and stopped at a small log cabin. It
had but one room, and this was the sleeping apart-
ment of parents, children and chance visitors. A
tramper had stopped there a few days before, pro-
fessing to be a hatter by trade, and proposing to put
up a shop at the place. I did not like his appear-
ance, and having considerable gold and silver in my
saddle-bags, which I was carrying to the land office.

IN COMPANY WITH A ROBBER. gj

I did not wish to be in close quarters with him. He
was very inquisitive in regard to my business in that
part of the country, but I evaded his questions as
best I could. We had to occupy the same bed, and
tliough I was fatigued with my long journey I could
not sleep. Anxiety, and a feeling of heavy respon-
sibility for the money, of others intrusted to my care,
kept me wakeful and uneasy. I put my saddle-bags
containing the specie under the head of the bed,
and lay in such a position that my companion could
not reach it without passing over me.

No attempt at robbery was made that night, but
I subsequently learned that a few days afterward,
tlie sheriff of Dayton, Ohio, arrived there and cap-
tured this man and put him in irons ; he had com-
mitted a heavy robbery in Ohio. . The day after I left
the cabin, I was riding through a dense forest when
I encountered a terrific storm. Black clouds drifted
rapidly across the sky, and heavy peals of thunder
mingled with the noise of the wind in the timber.
I dismounted from my frightened horse and stood
holding him by the bridle, seeing no way to seek
safety. It became very dark, tall trees fell crashing
in every direction, and the lightning ran in streams
along the prostrate timber. It was an impressive
and solemn time with me, for I expected every mo-
ment to be crushed by the falling trees or struck by
the lightning.

The storm soon passed, and I was left unhurt in
the midst of the ruined forest. My heart was filled
with thankfulness to God for his great mercy in
preserving my life. I at first thought I could not

86 REMINISCENCES,

make my way with my horse out of the forest ; for
the fallen trees completely obstructed the road, but
I soon found that the track of the hurricane was nar-
row, and when I was beyond that the way was clear.
This hindrance prevented me from reaching the
settlement near Terre Haute that night, but about
dark I came to a house on the. edge of Otter Creek
prairie, where I spent the night. Next day I ar-
rived safely in Terre Haute, where I accomplished
my business at the land office, and got rid of my
gold and silver. I then went on seven miles farther,
to a little settlement of Friends on Honey Creek,
and stopped at Moses Hockett's for the night. I
intended to go on the next morning, to another set*
tlement, fifteen miles further down the Wabash,
where a number of my acquaintances from New
Garden, North Carolina, lived. But Moses Hockett
informed me that next day was their monthly meet-
ing, and persuaded me to stay and attend it. At
the business meeting, I gave the clerk my certificate
of membership, which had been given me by the
monthly meeting at New Garden, North Carolina,
when I started West. It stated that I was a member
in unity with them, and recommended me to the
Christian care and kind regard of Friends wherever
my lot should be cast. This was a good introduction,
and seemed to open my way among strangers. After
meeting I had many invitations from those present,
and finding that I had been engaged in teaching,
they were anxious that I should open a school at
their meeting-house. They assured me that I would
have a large school. I could not engage to teach.

Mr SCHOOL AT HONET CREEK.

as I expected to return to Richmond after visiting
my friends at Termin's Creek, so did not make any
agreement I remained over Sabbath at this place,
and next day went on to the lower settlement,
where I spent over a week visiting my old associates,
and hunting. Deer, wild turkeys, and other game
were abundant and afforded us delightful sport. Sev-
eral families of the Dixes and Hunts, and my old
friend David Grose, had settled here, all from Guil-
ford County. About the time I intended to start
from this place, wet weather set in. It rained in-
cessantly for several days, and all the streams were
swollen so as to be impassable. The ground was
tliawedand the roads were very muddy; altogether,
it was a dismal prospect to a traveler. My friends
dissuaded me from attempting to return to Rich-
mond, and I concluded to wait till the streams that
lay in my way could be forded. When the rain
ceased, I returned to Honey Creek and agreed to
open a school there, with the understanding that as
soon as the roads were passable I should adjourn the
school, for a week or two, and return to my brother-
in-law's, near Richmond, for the purpose of getting
a supply of clothing, etc. J spent a day or two
riding about the neighborhood with William Dur-
ham, an elder, and the head of Honey Creek Meet-
ing, for the purpose of getting subscribers to the
school, and having obtained a sufficient number of
names, I opened the school. It was soon full, and
continued large until the close.

Finding that there was a number of young people
in the neighborhood who could not attend school in

88 REMINISCENCES.

the busy season, I determined to organize a Sabbath-
school. Thete had never been one in that place,
and I knew that to insure its success I must enlist
the interest of the parents. To affect this object 1
called a meeting at the Mceting-House, one Sabbath
afternoon, requesting the young people and their
parents to be present, both members of Friends'
Society and others. I felt the responsibility I was
taking on myself, and prayed for Divine guidance
and strength and wisdom. At the time appointed a
large meeting convened. I spoke of my concern for
those of my own age and younger, whom I saw in
that beautiful prairie settlement, and my desire to
do something to promote their moral and religious
welfare while among them. I then proposed that
we organize a Sabbath-school, to meet every Sab-
bath afternoon at the Meeting-House, for the object
of reading and studying the Scriptures, and for mu-
tual instruction in all that was good and elevating.
I spoke of the Sabbath-schools in my native place,
and their beneficial results, and, after I had aroused
the interest of all, I addressed myself particularly
to the parents, saying that much would depend on
the encouragement they gave this undertaking and
the part they took in it. If they would attend and
heartily join in th6 proceedings, and encourage their
children to come, we might be sure of an interest-
ing and successful school. To my great joy, they
united with me fully in the enterprise, and the mat-
ter was all arranged. The school opened the fol-
lowing Sabbath, and was well attended. It was
held regularly, and increased in interest as long as I

MT TRIP TO ILLINOIS, gp

remained in that part of the country. Members of
other denominations took part with, us, and all
seemed to enjoy, and to be benefited by it. This
was the first Sabbath-school started in that part of
the country. When the roads were settled and the
weather was fair and pleasant, I adjourned my school
and went to Richmond, as I had arranged to do,
missing but one Sabbath-school by my absence.

About the last of May, my cousin, Allen Hiatt, of
Clinton County, Ohio, visited me at Honey Creek.
He was on his way to Illinois to visit his sister, the
wife of Absalom Dillon, who, with several other
Friends, had removed from Ohio and formed a little
settlement on the Sangamon River, ten or fifteen
miles from the place where Springfield, the State
capital, now stands. My cousin was very anxious
that I should accompany him, as his route lay across
the Grand Prairie, a tract of country then entirely
uninhabited, and he would find it very lonely travel-
ing several days without company. I felt inclined
to go with him, as part of my business to the West
was to see the country, so I applied to the trustees
for permission to adjourn my school for an indefinite
period. This was granted, and I made preparations
for the journey. My horse was in good plight for
traveling, and when I had provided myself with a
pocket compass, a good rifle, and enough provisions
to last a week, I felt ready to start. Each of us took
a wallet of shelled corn for our horses, and a good
blanket as a preparation for camping out.

We were told that there was an Indian trail from
Fort Harrison to the forks of the Sangamon River,
8

pO REMINISCENCES.

where we would find a settlement and be not far
from our destination ; so we resolved to take this
route. Fully equipped, we bade good-by to our
friends one bright morning, and started out on the
wide prairie. We crossed the Wabash River, at
Fort Harrison, four miles above Terre Haute, and
entered Illinois. We found inhabitants for several
miles, then struck the Indian trail and left behmd us
all signs of human habitation.

We followed the trail for two days, winding about
from northwest to southwest, through the vast un-
bounded prairie. It led from one small grove of
timber to another, which the Indians had used as
campmg places, and where they had erected scaf-
folds on which to dry their venison. On the second
day the trail grew dim, and toward night it seemed
to fade out entirely.

We directed our course to a small grove of timber
ahead, which we reached about dark. We prepared
to camp here for the night, and were making a tent
of green boughs to protect us from the heavy dew,
when we were startled by seeing two men coming
toward us through the high grass. They soon told
their story. They had been lost on the prairie for
several days, and were wandering about in search of
the trail when they saw our camp-fire and directed
their steps toward us. Their provisions had given
out two days before, and they were suffering with
hunger. We fed them sparingly that night, on
account of their having fasted so long, and the next
morning divided our store of provisions with them.
They were trying to reach the settlement on the

LOST ON THE PRAIRIES.

"Wabash, and we were able to guide them on their
"way by directing them to the route which we had
come.

As for ourselyes, we hardly knew how to proceed.
We knew not how to steer our course for the Sanga-
mon settlement by our compass, and our Indian
trail had led us out of our way and then vanished.
After some anxious consultation we concluded to go
straight west across the trackless prairie. We con-
tinued this course until we reached the Sangamon
River, where we were again at a loss. We knew
not whether to go up or down, but finally concluded
that we were too far south, so we turned north and
traveled the rest of the day up the river. We
looked eagerly about us for some sign of habitation,
but saw none, and at night camped in the edge of
the timber that skirted the stream. We felt lonely
and discouraged. Our stock of provisions was
nearly gone and our horse feed was exhausted. The
horses could subsist on grass, but what were we to
do for something to eat? We now realized that we
were lost, and began to forebode all kinds of disas-
ter. To increase the discomfort of our situation,
great clouds of mosquitoes surrounded and began
to torment us, and the howl of wolves was heard in
the distance. We hampered our horses and turned
them out to graze, but the mosquitoes troubled
them so much that they sought the smoke of our
camp-fire for relief. We built several fires and sur-
rounded ourselves by a cloud of smoke, preferring
this discomfort to the torment of the mosquitoes.
We slept but little during the night, our minds

REMINISCENCES.

being full of anxiety. The wolves howled almost
continually, those near us seeming to answer those
farther off. Sometimes we mocked them, by way
of amusement ; though it was rather poor amusement
under the circumstances.

In the morning we concluded to retrace our steps,
feeling satisfied that we should have turned dowii
the river instead of up. We traveled southward all
day, seeing no sign of inhabitants, and at night we
camped again in the timber, weary and hungry.
Our situation was now indeed serious. Our provis-
ions were entirely gone and starvation seemed to
stare us in the face. We frequently saw large herds
of deer feeding on the prairie, but did not succeed
in killing any. We were completely lost, not know-
ing that our course would bring us to any settlement
for hundreds of miles.

In the morning we mounted our horses and con-
tinued our journey. This was the sixth day we had
traveled without seeing any human being, except
the two lost men that came to our camp. We
pushed our way onward through the tall grass of
the prairie, and about one o'clock in the afternoon
we were suddenly cheered by the sound of a bell.
We halted to listen, then made our way in the
direction whence the sound came. We found a few
ponies in the shade of a small grove. One of them
wore a bell around its neck, and it was the tinkle of
this which we had heard. We supposed they were
Indian ponies, and that we were not far from a camp
of Indians. We had had very Uttle acquaintance
with Indians, and under other circumstanccis would

MK TRIP TO ILLINOIS,

have avoided meeting with them, but now we were
anxious to find them. We took a circle around,
looking for some track that might lead us to the
camp or village, but found none. The sudden hope
that had raised in our hearts died out, and we felt
the peril of our situation more forcibly than ever.
We traveled on down the bank of the river and had
left the group of ponies several miles behind us,
when We discovered smoke rising from a point of
timber before us, that reached out into the prairie.
We supposed this to proceed from the Indian camp
we were in search of and hastened toward the place.
On nearing it, we saw a small log-cabin, and when
we came up to it, we discovered to our great joy
that the inhabitants were white people. They were
entire strangers to us, but seemed very kind and
friendly. Words can not express the thankfulness
that filled my heart; I was gladder to see these
people than I had ever been to see my nearest
friends. No one can realize our feelings who has
not had a f imilar experience. The people welcomed
us to their cabin and soon prepared for us an excel-
lent dinner of fresh venison, warm corn-bread, wild
honey, milk and butter. They told us that three
famiHes, their own and two others, had settled in
that locality the year before, and had raised a very
good crop in the summer. It was twenty-five miles
to their nearest neighbors, near the forks of the
river. The settlement they referred to was the one
we had been trying to find.

We tarried with these kind people until the next
morning; then, with proper directions, we struck

^ REMINISCENCES.

our course, and reached the settlement that evening.
There was no ferry-boat at the river, but we found
a man, living near by, who offered to take us across
in his. canoe. We accepted his offer and put our
saddles and saddle-bags in the canoe, compelling out
horses to swim after us. I came near losing my
horse in the river. He got fast in the branches of a
tree that had fallen into the water, and struggled so
hard to get loose that he was completely exhausted,
and when he reached the bank, he was not able to
rise out of the water. We kept his head above
the surface by the bridle, and after a little time he
gathered strength to climb the bank. After waiting
awhile to give our horses rest and let them feed, we
traveled on a few miles to Absalom Dillon's, the
place of our destination. Wc found a small settle-
ment of F'riends and others who had "squatted,"
as it is called, on government land. They had se-
lected their land and were waiting for it to come into
market. We were kindly received by our relatives,
and others, at this place, and I spent several days
here very pleasantly.

One day a party of us went out on the prairie,
which was dotted with beautiful flowers, and gath-
ered a plentiful supply of delicious strawberries.
Other days were spent in hunting and in riding
about to look at the country. In one of our excur-
sions we visited the place where the city of Spring-
field now stands. A little cluster of cabins marked
the site of the present capital. All the people were
"squatters" on government land, as it had not then
come into market. The Dillons were preparing to

MY RETURN TO INDIANA. gj

•

visit another place, about forty miles westward, and
my cousin Allen Hiatt was inclined to go with them.
They asked me to go too, but I told them that ever
since I had come to the West I had heard of a bet-
ter place a Httle farther on, and now that I had got
within forty miles of it, I thought I would turn back.
I was anxious to return to my school, and there was
a. chance of company on the way, which I did not
wish to lose.

There was a man in the neighborhood from Ham-
ilton, Ohio, who had come out by way of Vandalia,
and who wished to return by Tcrre Haute. We
arranged to travel together, and after preparing
provisions for the journey across the Grand Prairie,
and bidding our friends good-by, we set out. The
first night we lodged at the place twenty-five miles
up the river, where Allen Hiatt and I had been so
kindly entertained, and the following morning, with
nothing but our compass to guide us, we started
across the wide prairie. I was satisfied that if we
pursued a direct eastward course that we would
strike the settlement on the Wabash. We made
good progress that day, and camped at night in a
small grove of timber.

Next morning Seeley, my companion, declared
that our course was leading us too far to the north-
ward, and insisted that we must bear more toward
the south. I differed with him on this point. I
told him that we were now south of the route that
Allen Hiatt and I had traveled when going out, and
if we should bear farther south, it would increase
the distance, and we should miss the settlement on

REMISISCENCE8.

the Wabash that we wished to reach. If we bore
farther north we might strike the trail that I had fol-
lowed for two days when going out. Seeley, how
ever, still persisted in his belief. He was much
older than I, and a more experienced traveler, but
I could not yield to his judgment. I had the ad-
vantage of him in several particulars ; the compass
was mine, the gun was mine, and I had a larger
stock of provisions ; I could do without him better
than he could do without me. Nevertheless, he
seemed resolved to part company and pursue his
own route, unless I would change my course. It
was a serious matter to separate in this vast prairie
country where there were no roads or inhabitants,
nothing to break the monotony of the level green
plain but occasional groves of timber. But I would
not change, and my companion would not, so we
parted. I steered straight east by my compass, and
Seeley bore to the southward. He probably thought
I would yield at last and join him, but I held on my
way, and the distance between us began to widen.
He grew smaller and smaller, and about nine o'clock
seemed like a black speck in the distance. At ten
o'clock he appeared larger and seemed to be coming
toward me. At eleven o'clock he fell into my
course, and when I came up to him, he said:
** Are you sure you are right?*'
"No," I replied, **I fear I am too far south."
We continued our course directly east until about
noon, when we met an Indian on horseback. He
halted, and I spoke to him, but he did not seem to
understand English, and made signs that he wanted

DIRECTED BY AN INDIAN. g^

something to eat We all dismounted from our
horses, and I gave him some bread and meat. I
then asked him what tribe he belonged to, but he
made no reply. I mentioned the names of several
tribes, and when I said "Kickapoo," he responded
at once. I found that he understood enough English
to know the names of places in that part of the
country. I inquired the course to Fort Harrison.
He pointed straight east, and said ** There Terre
Haute," then a little farther south, and said ** There
Vincennes.*'

Then he marked on the ground to indicate these
places and the course, and made us understand by
signs that we could not reach Fort Harrison by a
straight course, for we could not cross the river. He
made motions with his arms to imitate swimming,
and showed us that our horses would swim and the
water would come over our saddles. He then
marked pn the ground again, and showed us the
course we must take. We must go northeast until
the sun reached such a place — pointing to the sun
then over our heads — when we would reach the
river: We could ford it there, then we must turn
southeast and travel in that direction, until the sun
reached such a place in the sky. Then we must
turn straight east, and would soon reach the settle-
ment.

We followed his directions, forded the river with-
out difficulty, and reached the settlement near Fort
Harrison the next day, after a wearisome journey of
four days. During the latter part of our journey the
weather was very warm, and the last night out was

REMINISCENCES,

one of the most uncomfortable I ever experienced.
During the day we had passed through a wet,
swampy district, where the water stood in pools
here and there, that were knee deep to our horses.
We were pushing forward in hope of reaching a
grove of timber which we saw in the distance, when
a black cloud rolled up from the west, and the peals
of thunder sounded through the sky. It rained
heavily and wc were soon drenched. Darkness
settled around us before we reached the grove, and
in trying to make our way to it, in order to camp*
for the night, we got into one of those morasses I
have mentioned. Wc thought we could pass through
it, and pushed on, but the water soon became so deep
we were obliged to halt. We turned and tried to
make our way out, but did not succeed, and coming
to a spot of dry land, in the midst of the water, we
concluded to stop. One held the horses while the
other looked about.

We found that we were completely surrounded by
water, and decided that we had better remain where
we were during the night. After hampering our
horses and turning them loose to graze, we arranged
our saddles and saddle-bags on the ground and lay
down. We had blankets to spread over ourselves,
but we were yet wet with the rain, and were far
from comfortable. The clouds passed away and the
stars shone brightly in the clear sky. Being much
fatigued, we soon fell asleep, but awoke about mid-
night chilly and shivering. We got up and exer-
cised by walking and jumping about on our little
island, and soon got warm, but we could sleep no

REOPENED HONEY CREEK SCHOOL. gg

more during the night, having to repeat the exer-
cise several times. When daylight came, we saw
our horses some two hundred yards from us, grazing
on the dry prairie.. We found a narrow path by
which we could reach them without wading, and
gathering up our saddles and blankets, we left our
camping place. We made good progress that day,
and, as before stated, reached the settlement that
afternoon in safety. I left my companion at Terre
Haute and arrived at my home at Honey Creek that
night. I received a hearty greeting from all my
friends, and was very glad to get back. I felt fully
satisfied with my adventures in the wild West, and
did not care for any more experience of that kind.
After one or two days' rest, I reopened my school,
and continued it without further intermission until
the last of August. Nothwithstanding the exposure
I had undergone in my travels, I continued to enjoy
the blessing of good health.

Soon after the close of my school I left Honey
Creek, and returned to Richmond through the
southern part of the State, which had been longer
settled than the central part. I went by way of
Paoli, Orange County, and Salem, Washington
County, where I had numerous relatives living.
Two uncles — my father's elder brothers — were
among the early settlers of that locality. Large
settlements of Friends had grown up in these coun-
ties, and a Quarterly Meeting was established near
Salem, called Blue River Quarterly Meeting. After
spending about a week in visiting my uncles, Libni
and Matthew Coffin, and many of my numerous

lOO REMimSCByCES.

cousins, 1 went directly to the home of my brother-
in-law, Benjamin White, near Richmond. This was
my headquarters while I staid in the West, though
a part of my leisure time was spent in visiting my
other sisters, the wives of Daniel Puckett and Sam-
uel Kellum, who lived about nine miles north of
Richmond, in the village of Newport. The time
for the Yearly Meeting of Friends was drawing near,
and I wished to attend it before starting back to
North Carolina. Indiana Yearly Meeting had been
established but a short time, and a large house in
the suburbs of Richmond had been erected to
accommodate the meeting. It was called White
Water Mceting-House.

The time for the meeting to open was in the Tenth
Mo., October, and this gave me several weeks in
which to visit my relatives and prepare for my home-
ward journey. I had learned that there was a pros-
pect of having pleasant company on my way baclc
My uncle, Jonathan Hockett, of Highland County,
Ohio, and his son Jonathan ; Aaron Betts, of the
same county, and Benjamin Bceson, of Indiana, were
all going on horseback to North Carolina. The time
of starting was agreed upon, and after taking leave
of my friends in Indiana, and visiting relatives in
Clinton and Highland Counties, Ohio, I joined this
parly and started for North Carolina. We crossed
the Ohio River at Gallipolis, then went up the Ka-
nawha River to the Falls. We crossed New River
at Pack's Ferry, and our course from that place led
across Peter's mountain, across the Blue Ridge at
Mabcrry's Gap, and thence to f^uilford County,

HOME AGAIN. 10 1

North Carolina. I reached my father's house about
the first of November, 1823. I was truly thankful
to meet my dear parents and sister again, after a sep-
aration of more than a year, and they were greatly
rejoiced at my restoration to them in the enjoyment
of health and prosperity.

I remained quietly at home several weeks, aiding
my father in the work of the farm. Schools gener-
ally were taken up, and I saw no opening for em-
ployment as teacher that winter. In the early part
of winter I was applied to by a friend of mine to go
on a collecting tour for him in the mountain regions
of Southwestern Virginia. It would occupy me but
a few weeks. I undertook the business reluctantly,
fearing the inclemency of the weather in that cold
mountain region. I crossed the Blue Ridge at Good
Spur Gap, and spent about two weeks traveling over
portions of Grayson, Wythe, and Montgomery
Counties, Virginia. Snow lay on the ground, and
the weather was extremely cold. I frequently en-
countered heavy snow-storms, and this exposure
gave me a severe cold. I was gone from home
about three weeks, and soon after my return I was
taken violently ill with the pleurisy. This distress-
ing disease reduced me very low, but by the aid of a
skillful physician, and the tender and careful nursing
of my parents and sister, and the blessing of my
Heavenly Father, I was so far restored in a few
weeks as to be able to walk about a little when the
weather was fair. I remained in feeble health the
remainder of the winter, and was not able to engage
in any heavy physical labor.

I02

REMINISCENCES,

One day, late in the winter, I was sitting in a
rather dejected frame of mind, meditating on my
situation and wondering what I should do, when a.
boy rode up to the door, and handed me a letter. I
opened it and found that it was from Jesse Moore,
of Deep River, near Jamestown, requesting me to
take a school at that place. He wished me to en-
gage for one year, and assured me that I would have
a large school. I gladly accepted the offer, and as
soon as my health permitted I opened the school.
It was about eight miles from my father's, and by
keeping my horse at my boarding place I had the
opportunity of riding home at the close of the week.
I taught here the whole year, and had a large and
interesting school.

MARRIAGE. 103

CHAPTER IV.

MARRIAGE — REMOVAL TO INDIANA — I LOCATE AT NEW-
PORT AND ENGAGE IN MERCANTILE BUSINESS —
UNDERGROUND RAILROAD WORK — DIFFICULTIES
AND DANGERS OF THE WORK — TRIP TO NORTH

CAROLINA HEART-RENDING SCENE AT A SLAVE

AUCTION — TEMPERANCE WORK AT NEWPORT.

ON the 28th day of* tenth month, 1824, I was
married to Catherine White, daughter of Stan-
ton and Sarah White. We were brought up in the
same neighborhood, and had been acquainted from
childhood. She belonged to the Religious Society
of Friends, and was then a member of Hopewell
Monthly Meeting, to which place her father had re-
moved a few years before, from his former residence
near New Garden, We were married at Hopewell
Meeting-House, after the manner and custom of
Friends.

My wedding-day was my twenty-sixth birthday;
my wife was twenty-one the preceding month. Our
attachment to each other was of long standing. She
was an amiable and attractive young woman of lively,
buoyant spirits. Her heart has ever been quick to
respond to the cry of distress, and she has been an
able and efficient helper to me in all my efforts on

I04

REMINISCENCES.

behalf of the fug^itivc slaves, and a cheerful sharer in
all the toils, privations and dangers which we have,
in consequence, been called upon to endure.

Soon after marriage I rented a house near my
school, and here we first went to housekeeping.
My school closed early in the spring, and I con-
cluded to rest awhile from the arduous duties of
teaching.

Thinking that my health would be improved by
the open-air exercise of farming, and having a very
favorable offer made me of a comfortable house,
without charge, in that neighborhood, and as much
ground as I wished to cultivate, I prepared to en-
gage in farming. This prospect was pleasant to us
both, as my wife and I had been brought up on
farms. The house was tendered us by our friend
and neighbor Shields Moore, who now lives in In-
diana. We went to work in good spirits and soon
had a garden planted and a crop in. But my plan
for farming soon came to an end.

A new school-house had just been completed,
about two miles north of Deep River Meeting-
House, in a thickly settled neighborhood of Friends.
This settlement was called Nazareth, and the school-
house received the same name. There was a large
number of ydung people in the neighborhood, for
whose benefit the parents were anxious to establish a
good school. A committee, consisting of Abel Cof-
fin, Thaddeus Gardner, Zacharias Coffin and Peter
Hunt, visited me and asked me to take the school.
They added inducements by offering me a good
house, free of charge, and agreeing to guarantee my

Mr SCHOOL AT GREENSBORO.

105

salary, but I declined the offer. I thought they had
overestimated my qualifications and reputation as a
teacher, and feared that I could not satisfactorily fill
the place. They would not accept my answer as
final, however, and said they would visit me again,
giving me a week to think on the subject. I con-
sulted with my wife and some of our neighbors, and
finally agreed to accept the offer. I accordingly sold
my crop, and removed to the house near the school.

In my article of agreement, I limited my school
to fifty scholars. This number was soon made up,
and I employed Susanna Overman, a graduate of
Greensboro Academy, as assistant.

This was the largest and most interesting school
that I ever taught. During this year I was also
engaged in Sabbath-school work. We organized a
large Sabbath-school at Deep River Meeting-House,
the first ever established in that place. In the early
part of 1826 we organized a library association at
my school-house, calling it the Nazereth Library
Association. We got several of the prominent
men of the neighborhood interested in this work,
and succeeded in getting a small, yet good collec-
tion of books with which to start our library. We
then made up a considerable sum of money, and
having, by the aid of Jeremiah Hubbard and others,
made out a list of valuable books, we sent by Abel
Coffin, who was going to Philadelphia, and pur-
chased others. This was the beginning of what
grew in time to be a large and interesting library.

When my school closed, I made a donation of my
stock and interest in the library to the association.

Io5 REMINISCENCES.

I was then preparing to move to the State of In-
diana. The association afterward obtained a charter
and became a corporate body. A year or two after
my removal to the West, I received an official noti-
fication of a resolution passed by this body, thank-
ing me for the active part I had taken in organizing
the association, and for my donation to the library.

In the early part of the ninth month, 1826, we
took a final leave of North Carolina. My parents
had emigrated to Indiana the previous year, and I
was the last one of our family to go. My family at
this time consisted of myself, my wife, and our son
Jesse, about a year old. My wife's parents were
not then prepared to move, but followed the next
year. On our way to Indiana we had the company
of my wife's cousin, Elias Jessup, and his little
family.

We made the journey in light wagons, with good
teams, and had a pleasant trip. We took the short-
est route, called the Kanawha road, and arrived at
our destination in four weeks from the time of start-
ing. We located at Newport, Wayne County, In-
diana, where we lived for more than twenty years.
This village was in the midst of a large settlement
of Friends, and a Quarterly Meeting was then estab-
lished at New Garden Meeting-House, about a half
mile from the village. I bought property in New-
port, and finding that there was a good opening
there for a mercantile business, I concluded to en-
gage in it. I went to Cincinnati and purchased a
small stock of goods and opened a store. This ven-
ture was successful, and I increased my stock and

SETTLED IN INDIANA. ,07

varied my assortment of goods until a large retail
business was established.

The next year I commenced cutting pork in a
small way, besides carrying on my other business.
This I continued to do, enlarging my operations
every year, and kept it up as long as I remained in
Newport,

In the year 1836, I built an oil mill and manufac-
tured linseed oil. Notwithstanding all this multi-
plicity of business, I was never too busy to engage
in Underground Railroad affairs. Soon after we lo-
cated at Newport, I found that we were on a line of
the U. G. R. R. Fugitives often passed through
that place, and generally stopped among the colored
people. There was in that neighborhood a number
of families of free colored people, mostly from North
Carolina, who were the descendants of slaves who
had been liberated by Friends many years before,
and sent to free States at the expense of North Car-
olina Yearly Meeting. I learned that the fugitive
slaves who took refuge with these people were often
pursued and captured, the colored people not being
very skillful in concealing them, or sbrewd in making
arrangements to forward them to Canada. I was
pained to hear of the capture of these fugitives, and
inquired of some of the Friends in our village why
they did not take them in and secrete them, when
they were pursued, and then aid them on their way
to Canada? I found that they were afraid of the pen-
alty of the law. I told them that T read in the Bible
when I was a boy that it was right to take in the
stranger and administer to those in distress, and that

I08 REMINISCEttCES.

I thought it was always safe to do right. The Bible,
in bidding us to feed the hungry and clothe the
naked, said nothing about color, and I should try
to follow out the teachings of that good book. I
was willing to receive and aid as many fugitives as
were disposed to come to my house. I knew that
my wife's feelings and sympathies regarding this
matter were the same as mine, and that she was will-
ing to do her part. It soon became known to the
colored people in our neighborhood and others, that
our house was a depot where the hunted and ha-
rassed fugitive journeying northward, on the Under-
ground Railroad, could find succor and sympathy.
It also became known at other depots on the various
lines that converged at Newport.

In the winter of 1826-27, fugitives began to come
to our house, and as it became more widely known
on different routes that the slaves fleeing from bond-
age would find a welcome and shelter at our house,
and be forwarded safety on their journey, the num-
ber increased. Friends in the neighborhood, who
had formerly stood aloof from the work, fearful of
the penalty of the law, were encouraged to engage
in it when they saw the fearless manner in which I
acted, and the success that attended my efforts.
They would contribute to clothe the fugitives, and
would aid in forwarding them on their way, but
were timid about sheltering them under their roof;
so that part of the work devolved on us. Some
seemed really glad to see the work go on, if some-
body else would do it. Others doubted the propri-
ety of it, and tried to discourage me, and dissuade

UNDERQROUKD RAILROAD BEGUN. iqq

me from running such risks. They manifested great
concern for my safety and pecuniary interests, tell-
ing me that such a course of action would injure my
business and perhaps ruin me ; thai I ought to con-
sider the welfare of my family; and warning me that
my life was in danger, as there were many threats
made against me by the slave-hunters and those who
sympathized with them.

After listening quietly to these counselors, I told
them that I felt no condemnation for anything that
I had ever done for the fugitive slaves. If by doing
my duty and endeavoring to fulfill the injunctions
of the Bible, I injured my business, then let my
business go. As to my safety, my life was in the
hands of my Divine Master, and I felt that I had his
approval. I had no fear of the danger that seemed
to threaten my life or my business. If I was faith-
ful to duty, and honest and industrious, I felt that
I would be preserved, and that I could make
enough to support my family. At one time there
came to see me a good old Friend, who was appar-
ently very deeply concerned for my welfare. He
said he was as much opposed to slavery as I was,
but thought it very wrong to harbor fugitive slaves.
No one there knew of what crimes they were guilty ;
they might have killed their masters, or committed
some other atrocious deed, then those who sheltered
them, and aided them in their escape from justice
would indirectly be accomplices. He mentioned
other objections which he wished me to consider,
and then talked for some time, trying to convince
me of the errors of my ways. I heard him pa-

I lo REMiyiSCENCES.

tiently until he had relieved his mind of the burden
upon it, and then asked if he thought the Good
Samaritan stopped to inquire whether the man who
fell among thieves was guilty of any crime before
he attempted to help him? I asked him if he were
to see a stranger who had fallen into the ditch would
he not help him out until satisfied that he had com-
mitted no atrocious deed? These, and many other
questions which I put to him, he did not seem able
to answer satisfactorily. He was so perplexed and
confused that I really pitied the good old man, and
advised him to go home and read his Bible thor-
oughly, and pray over it, and I thought his concern
about my aiding fugitive slaves would be removed
from his mind, and that he would feel like helping
me in the work. We parted in good feeling, and
he always manifested warm friendship toward me
until the end of his days.

Many of my pro-slavery customers left me for a
time, my sales were diminished, and for a while my
business prospects were discouraging, yet my faith
was not shaken, nor my efforts for the slaves less-
ened. New customers soon came in to fill the places
of those who had left me. New settlements were
rapidly forming to the north of us, and our own was
filling up with emigrants from North Carolina, and
other States. My trade increased, and I enlarged
my business. I was blessed in all my efforts and
succeeded beyond my expectation.';. The Under-
ground Railroad business increased as time ad-
vanced, and it was attended with heavy expenses,
which I could not have borne had not liiy aflairs

MODE OF WORKING, j j i

been prosperous. I found it necessary to keep a
team and a wagon always at command, to convey
the fugitive slaves on their journey. Sometimes,
when we had large companies, one or two other
teams and wagons were required. These journeys
had to be made at night, often through deep mud
and bad roads, and along by-ways that were seldom
traveled. Every precaution to evade pursuit had to
be used, as the hunters were often on the track, and
sometimes ahead of the slaves. We had different
routes for sending the fugitives to depots, ten, fif-
teen, or twenty miles distant, and when we heard
of slave-hunters having passed on one road, we for-
warded our passengers by another.

In some instances where we learned that the pur-
suers were ahead of them, we sent a messenger and
•had the fugitives brought back to my house to re-
main in concealment until the bloodhounds in human
shape had lost the trail and given up the pursuit.

I soon became extensively known to the friends
of the slaves, at different points on the Ohio River,
where fugitives generally crossed, and to those
northward of us on the various routes leading to
Canada. Depots were established on the different
lines of the Underground Railroad, south and north
of Newport, and a perfect understanding was main-
tained between those who kept them. Three princi-
pal lines from the South converged at my house ;
one from Cincinnati, one from Madison, and one
from Jeffersonville, Indiana. The roads were al-
ways in running order, the connections were good,
die conductors active and zealous, and there was no

112 REMlNlSCEycES.

lack of passengers. Seldom a week passed without
our receiving passengers by this mysterious road.
We found it necessary to be always prepared to re-
ceive such company and properly care for them.
Wekneiv not what night or what hour of the night
we would be roused from slumber by a gentle rap at
the door. That was the signal announcing the ar-
rival of a train of the Underground Railroad, for the
locomotive did not whistle, nor make any unneces-
sary noise. I have often been awakened by this
signal, and sprang out of bed in the dark and opened
the door. Outside in the cold or rain, there would
be a two-horse wagon loaded with fugitives, perhaps
the greater part of them women and children. I
would invite them, in a low tone, to come in, and
they would follow me into the darkened house with-
out a word, for we knew not who might be watching
and listening. When they were all safely inside and
the door fastened, I would cover the windows, strike
a light and build a good fire. By this time my wife
would be up and preparing victuals for them, and in
a short time the cold and hungry fugitives would be
made comfortable. I would accompany the conduc-
tor of the train to the stable, and care for the horses,
that had, perhaps, been driven twenty-five or thirty
miles that night, through the cold and rain. The
fugitives would rest on pallets before the fire the rest
of the night. Frequently, wagon-loads of passen-
gers from the different lines have met at our house,
having no previous knowledge of each other. The
companies varied in number, from two or three fugi-
tives to seventeen.

MODE OF WORKING. , , j

The care of so many necessitated much work and
anxiety on our part, but we assumed the burden of
our own will and bore it cheerfully. It was never
too cold or stormy, or the hour of night too late
for my wife to rise from sleep, and provide food and
comfortable lodging for the fugitives. Her sym-
pathy for those in distress never tired, and her
efforts in their behalf never abated. This work was
kept up during the time we lived at Newport, a
period of more than twenty years. The number of
fugitives varied considerably in different years, but
the annual average was more than one hundred.
They generally came to us destitute of clothing, and
were often barefooted. Clothing must be collected
and kept on hand, if possible, and money must be
raised to buy shoes, and purchase goods to make
garments for women and children. The young
ladies in the neighborhood organized a sewing so-
ciety, and met at our house frequently, to make
clothes for the fugitives.

Sometimes when the fugitives came to us desti-
tute, we kept them several days, until they could be
provided with comfortable clothes. This depended
on the circumstances of danger. If they had come
a long distance and had been out several weeks or
months — as was sometimes the case — and it was not
probable that hunters were on their track, we
thought it safe for them to remain with us until
fitted for traveling through the thinly settled country
to the North. Sometimes fugitives have come to
our house in rags, foot-sore and toil-worn, and al-
most wild, having been out for several months

1 1 4 REMINISCENCES,

traveling at night, hiding in canebrakes or tliickets
during the day, often being lost and making httle
headway at night, particularly in cloudy weather,
when the north star could not be seen, sometimes
almost perishing for want of food, and afraid of
every white person they saw, even after they came
into a free State, knowing that slaves were often
captured and taken back after crossing the Ohio
River.

Such as these we have kept until they were re-
cruited in strength, provided with clothes, and able
to travel. When they first came to us they were
generally unwilling to tell their stories, or let us
know what part of the South they came from. They
would not give their names, or the names of their
masters, correctly, fearing that they would be be-
trayed. In several instances fugitives came to our
house sick from exhaustion and exposure, and lay
several weeks. One case was that of a woman and
her two children — little girls. Hearing that her
children were to be sold away from her, she deter-
mined to take them with her and attempt to reach
Canada. She had heard that Canada was a place
where all were free, and that by traveling toward
the north star she could reach it. She managed
to get over the Ohio River ^Vith her two little girls,
and then commenced her long and toilsome journey
northward. Fearing to travel on the road, even at
night, lest she should meet somebody, she made
her way through the woods and across fields, living
on fruits and green corn, when she could procure
them, and sometimes suffering severely for lack of

MODE OF WORKING.

lis

food. Thus she wandered on, and at last reached
our neighborhood. Seeing a cabin where some col-
ored people lived she made her way to it. The
people received her kindly, and at once conducted
her to our house. She was so exhausted by the
hardships of her long journey, and so weakened by
hunger, having denied herself to feed her children,
that she soon became quite sick. Her children
were very tired, but soon recovered their strength,
and were in good health. They had no shoes nor
clothing except what they had on, and that was in
tatters. Dr. Henry H. Way was called in, and
faithfully attended the sick woman, until her health
was restored. Then the little party were provided
with good clothing and other comforts, and were
sent on their way to Canada.

Dr. Way was a warm friend to the fugitive slaves,
and a hearty co-worker with me in anti-slavery mat-
ters. The number of those who were friendly to
the fugitives increased in our neighborhood as time
passed on. Many were willing to aid in clothing
them and helping them on their way, and a few
were willing to aid in secreting them, but the depot
seemed to be established at my house.

Notwithstanding the many threats of slave-hunt-
ers and the strong prejudices of pro-slavery men, I
continued to prosper and gained a business influence
in the community. Some of my customers, who
had left me several years before on account of my
anti-slavery sentiments, began to deal with me
again. I had been elected a director in the Rich-
mond branch of the State Bank, and was re-elected

1 1 6 REMINISCENCES.

annually for six or seven years, by the stockholders,
to represent our district. When any one wished
accommodation from the bank, much depended on
the director from the district where the applicant
lived. His word or influence would generally de-
cide the matter. The remembrance of this seemed
to hold a check on some of the pro-slavery men of
our neighborhood. They wished to retain my
friendship, and did not openly oppose my U. G. R.
R. work as they might otherwise have done. My
business influence no doubt operated in some de-
gree to shield me from the attacks of the slave^
hunters. These men often threatened to kill me,
and at various times offered a reward for my head.
I often received anonymous letters warning me that
my store, pork-house, and dwelling would be burned
to the ground, and one letter, mailed in Kentucky,
informed me that a body of armed men were then
on their way to Newport to destroy the town. The
letter named the night in which the work would be
accomplished, and warned me to flee from the place,
for if I should be taken my life would pay for my
crimes against Southern slaveholders. I had be-
come so accustomed to threats and warnings, that
this made no impression on me — struck no terror to
my heart. The most of the inhabitants of our vil-
lage were Friends, and their principles were those
of peace and non-resistance. They were not alarm-
ed at the threat to destroy the town, and on the
night appointed retired to their beds as usual and
slept peacefully. We placed no sentinels to give
warning of danger, and had no extra company at

FRIGHT FROM FROG MUSIC,

117

our house to guard our lives. We retired to rest
at the usual hour, and were not disturbed during the
night. In the morning* the buildings were all there
— there was no smell of fire, no sign of the terrible
destruction threatened. I heard of only one person
who was alarmed, and he did not live in town.

The fright of this man created considerable amuse-
ment at the time and was not soon forgotten. He
was a poor laborer, who lived a mile and a half from
Newport, in a cabin which he had built in the woods.
About half a mile east of his place, two roads cross-
ed each other, one of them leading to Newport, and
near the cross-roads was a large pond of water. This
incident occurred in the spring of the year. Having
heard that on a certain night the town of Newport
was to be destroyed by an army from Kentucky,
this man was listening, at the time appointed, for
the sound of the approaching army. Soon after
dark he was sure he heard martial music near the
cross-roads. He hastened to town with all speed,
and came into my store, almost out of breath, to
give the alarm. We laughed at him, and told him
that he heard the noise of frogs in that pond of
water, but he would not be convinced. To satisfy
him, a young man present said he would mount his
horse and go with him to hear the music. He went,
and soon returned and informed us that the frogs
were making a lively noise in the pond in honor of
the return of spring ; that was all the music to be
heard. The laborer was so chagrined at his ludi-
crous mistake, that he did not show himself in town
for some time.

U8 • REMINISCENCES,

Slave-hunters often passed through our town
and sometimes had hired ruffians with them fron»
Richmond, and other neig^hboring places. They
knew me well, and knew that I harbored slaves and
aided them to escape, but they never ventured to
search my premises, or molest me in any way.

I had many employes about my place of business,
and much company about my house, and it seemed
too public a place for fugitives to hide. These
slave-hunters knew that if they committed any tres-
pass, or went beyond the letter of the law, I would
have them arrested, and they knew also that I had
many friends who would stand at my back and aid
me in prosecuting them. Thus, my business influ-
ence and large acquaintance afforded me protection
in my labors for the oppressed fugitives. I ex-
pressed my anti-slavery sentiments with boldness
on every occasion. I told the sympathizers with
slave-hunters that I intended to shelter as many
runaway slaves as came to my house, and aid them
on their way ; and advised them to be careful how
they interfered with my work. They might get
themselves into difficulty if they undertook to cap-
ture slaves from my premises, and become involved
in a legal prosecution, for most of the arrests of
slaves were unlawful. The law required that a writ
should be obtained, and a proof that the slave was
their property before they could take him away, and
if they proceeded contrary to these • requirements,
and attempted to enter my house, I would have
them arrested as kidnappers. These expressions,
uttered frequently, had, I thought, a tendency to

FROZE If FEET, I jg

intimidate the slave-hunters and their friends, and
to prevent them from entering my house to search
for slaves.

The pursuit was often very close, and we had to
resort to various stratagems in order to elude the
pursuers. Sometimes a company of fugitives were
scattered, and secreted in the neighborhood until
the hunters had given up the chase. At other
times their route was changed and they were hur-
ried forward with all speed. It was a continual
excitement and anxiety to us, but the work was
its own reward.

As I have said before, when we knew of no pur-
suit, and the fugitives needed to rest or to be
clothed, or were sick from exposure and fatigue, we
have kept them with us for weeks or months. A
case of this kind was that of two young men who
were brought to our house during a severe cold spell
in the early part of winter. They had been out in
the snow and ice, and their feet were so badly frozen
that their boots had to be cut off, and they were
compelled to lie by for three months, being unable
to travel. Dr. Henry H. Way, who was always
ready to minister to the fugitives, attended them,
and by his skillful treatment their feet were saved,
though for some time it was thought that a sur-
gical operation would have to be performed. The
two men left us in the spring, and went on to Can-
ada. They seemed loth to part from us, and mani-
fested much gratitude for our kindness and care.
The next autumn one of them returned to our
house to see us, saying that he felt so much in-

I20 REMTNISCENCES.

dcbted to us that he had come back to work for us
to try to repay us, in some measure, for what we had
done for him. I told him that we had no charge
against him, and could not receive anything for our
attention to him while he was sick and helpless ; but
if he thought he would be safe, I would hire him
during the winter at good wages. He accepted this
offer and proved to be a faithful servant. He at-
tended night-school and made some progress in
learning. He returned to Canada in the spring.

Many of the fugitives came long distances, from
Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana, in fact from all
parts of the South. Sometimes the poor hunted
creatures had been out so long, living in woods and
thickets, that they were almost wild when they came
in, and so fearful of being betrayed, that it was
some time before their confidence could be gained
and the true state of their case learned. Although
the number of fugitives that I aided on their way
was so large, not one, so far as I ever knew, was
captured and taken back to slavery. Providence
seemed to favor our efforts for the poor slaves, and
to crown them with success.

INCIDENTS OF A TRIP TO NORTH CAROLINA.

Early in the spring of 1828 I started to North
Carolina on business for myself and others, taking
with me a small drove of horses to sell.

I was accompanied by Ellis Mitchell, a light mu
latto man, free born. He was from our neighbor-
hood in North Carolina, where by his industry as a
blacksmith he had become possessed of a comfort-

BAD TREATMENT, 121

able little property adjoining the farm of my wife's
father, Stanton White. In the fall of 1827 my
fether-in-law moved from North Carolina and settled
in Spiceland, Henry County, Indiana. Ellis had
long wished to pay a visit to the western country,
but was deterred from making the attempt by a
knowledge of the difficulties that beset a colored
man, who traveled alone from a slave State to the
free States. Therefore, when my father-in-law pre-
pared to start, Ellis saw his opportunity. He offered
his services to drive my father-in-law's team, and was
gladly accepted.

He made the journey in safety and spent the win-
ter in Indiana, visiting his numerous friends and
acquaintances, who had emigrated from North Caro-
lina. When he wished to return home in the spring,
he offered to go with me and aid me in driving the
horses, and I gladly availed myself of his services.
Dr. Henry H. Way, who was then my partner in
business, accompanied us on the first day's journey.
We stopped at night at a tavern near Eaton, Ohio,
had our horses put up and called for supper for three.
When we were called to the supper table, however,
we found plates and seats for only two. The doctor
observed to the landlady that we had ordered supper
for three, but that she had prepared for only two,
and remarked: "Perhaps you did not understand
that there were three in our company."

'* Yes, sir," she replied; **I did understand, but
we don't admit niggers to our table to eat with white
folks. I will give your servant his supper in the
kitchen.*'

122 REMINISCENCES.

**He is not our servant,** rejoined the doctor;
"but a respectable gentleman, fully as worthy as we
are, and nearly as white ; he owns good property,
and is really worth more money than either of us.*'

*' I don't care,'* she replied ; "he can't eat at my
table with white folks."

In his quaint, peculiar style of speaking the doc-
tor asked : "Do you ever expect to go to heaven?"

"I hope so," she replied, wondering how such a
question could refer to the subject of their conver-
sation.

The doctor said : " If this man should go there, as
I trust he will, do you think he will be put in the
kitchen?" and then went on to quote several pas-
sages of Scripture, with which the woman was ap-
parently not familiar, concluding by saying: "I had
much rather eat with this man than with a person
who would not eat with him."

But the landlady did not yield, and Ellis had to
eat in the kitchen. We traveled through the State
of Ohio, but had no further difficulty in regard to
Ellis' accommodations until we crossed the river at
Gallipolis and entered the State of Virginia. Then,
Ellis was a "nigger" and had to go into the kitchen
the most of the way. While traveling up the
Kanawha River, there was a sudden change of
temperature, and the weather, which had been mild
and pleasant, became cold and blustering, and snow
fell.

Ellis Mitchell became quite sick from exposure,
and was hardly able to travel. We wished to stop
early, but could find no house of entertainment.

BAD TREATMEST. ,23

Some time after sunset we arrived at a good tavern
and called for quarters. The landlord came out to
meet us and appeared very accommodating. He
called several negro servants to take our horses, and
said to me: **Send your servant with mine to take
care of the horses.'* I told him that I would go to
the stable myself to look after the horses, as my
companion was sick and I wished him to go in to
the fire. I requested the landlord to give him a
comfortable room where he could lie down, for he
had had a hard ague chill in the afternoon and the
fever was now coming on.

The landlord replied: **Oh yes, sir, he shall be
properly attended to; " and I told Ellis to go in.

I went with the servants to see that our drove
of horses was properly stabled and fed, then went
back to the house and inquired about Ellis.

The landlord said: "My niggers will take care of
him ; don't be uneasy."

But I was determined to see where he was, and
how he fared, and walking out of the back door, I
proceeded to a negro cabin which I saw a few rods
off. Entering it, I saw Ellis sitting on a rough bench
in one corner, near a large fireplace in which burned
a few sticks of wood. In the opposite comer sat
several negro children on the dirt floor, for only half
of the cabin, the back part, had a rough board floor.
On these boards lay a few old blankets and quilts
which afforded all the bed that Ellis could expect
for the night.

I went back to the house with my feelings much
disturbed, and said to the landlord : ' ' I caflcd for a

124

REMINISCENCES.

comfortable room for the sick man, so that he might
lie down, but I find him sitting on a rough bench,
with no chance to lie down. I want him taken out
of that dirty cabin and given a comfortable place to
rest and sleep ; he is able to pay for it. He is a
free man, owning a good property, and at home has
nice feather beds to sleep on."

The landlord rcpHed: ''I will see that he is made
comfortable."

After supper, I went again to the cabin to see
how Ellis was faring. I found him lying on the
bench, with his overcoat over him. An old straw
bed, with some ragged and dirty blankets, had been
spread down in one corner for him, but he had re-
fused to lie on it. For his supper he had been
given some poor coffee and com bread, of which he
had tasted but little. The floor of the cabin was
occupied by the negro servants, men, women, and
children. Ellis spent the night on the bench by the
fire, sleeping but little.

In the morning the breakfast offered him was the
same as his supper, yet when we came to settle our
accounts, his bill was the same as mine. Ellis had
never been a slave, had always lived in a neighbor-
hood of Friends, where he was respected and kindly
treated, and this was the first time he had experi-
enced the effects of slavery. The rest of the way
home he fared more comfortably. After crossing
the mountains into Patrick County, where taverns
were few and far between, we made an early start
one morning, and traveled till ten o'clock to reach
an inn. We stopped and called for breakfast for

CAN'T EAT WITH WHITE FOLKS,

125

two, and, after waiting some time, I was informed
that the meal was ready. I stepped into the dining-
room, but seeing only one plate on the table, I
called to the landlady, and said: **I ordered break-
fast for two, and I wish this gentleman to eat with

me.

She replied: ** After you have done, sir, he may
come to the table.*'

I told her that we had no time to spare to eat,
one after the other, for we had a long journey be-
fore us that day, and wished to be off as soon as
possible."

"I don't care," she said, "niggers can't eat with
white folks at my table."

I answered: "That gentleman is nearly as white
as I am, and is a worthy man ; I have no objections
to eat with him."

She still persisted in her refusal; then I said: "I
have no time to parley. That man is older than I
am ; I will give him the preference if either of us
have to wait."

She at once set a plate on another table in the
room, and set the same fare before Ellis. So we
were permitted to eat in the same room.

ElHs concluded that Virginia was a hard place for
free negroes, even if they happened to be nearly
white, and was glad to get out of the State, and
reach his own comfortable home.

After spending a week in the neighborhood of rtiy
old home, and disposing of part of my horses, I
went farther south, into the edge of South Carolina,
on the Pedee River, thence turned my course to-

126 REMINISCENCES.

ward Fayetteville. Fifty miles south of that place
lies the town of Lamberton, where I arrived one
day at; noon, and stopped for dinner. I saw a large
crowd of people in the Court-House yard, and
thought that it would be a good opportunity to
dispone of the few horses which I had left. The
landlord informed me that an auction was about to
take place — that a large number of slaves were to
be sold that afternoon to the highest bidders. As
soon as dinner was over, I walked out to the large
lot in front of the Court-House, and looked about
me. The slaves who were to be sold stood in a
group near the auctioneer's stand, which was a high
platform with steps. They appeared intelligent,
but their countenances betrayed deep dejection and
anxiety. The men who intended to purchase,
passed from one to another of the group, exam-
ining them just as I would examine a horse which
I wished to buy. These men seemed devoid of
any feeling of humanity, and treated the negroes
as if they were brutes. They examined their limbs
and teeth to see if they were sound and healthy,
and looked at their backs and heads, to see if they
were scarred by whips, or other instruments of pun-
ishment. It was disgusting to witness their actions,
and to hear their vulgar and profane language.
Now and then one of them would make some ob-
scene remark, and the rest would greet it with peals
of*laughter, but not a smile passed over the sad
countenances of the slaves. There were men, women
and children to be sold, the adults appearing to
be in the prime of life. When the examination

A SLAVE AUCTION.

127

was over, the auctioneer mounted the platform,
taking one of the slave men with hitn. He de-
scribed the good qualities of that valuable piece of
property, — then the bidding commenced. The slave
looked anxiously and eagerly from one bidder to
another, as if trying to read in their countenances
their qualities as masters, and his fate. The crier*s
hammer soon came down, then another slave was
placed upon the stand, and bid off. After several
men had been sold in this way, a woman was placed
upon the stand, with a child in her arms appar-
ently a year old. She was a fine looking woman,
in the prime of life, with an intelligent countenance,
clouded with the deepest sadness. The auctioneer
recommended her as a good cook, house servant,
and field hand — indeed, according to his represen-
tation, she could turn her hand to anything, and was
an unusually valuable piece of property. She was
industrious, honest and trustworthy, and, above all,
she was a Christian, a member of the church — as if
the grace of God would add to her price ! The bid-
ding was quite lively, and she sold for a high price.
I supposed that the child was inclu ied in the sale,
of course, but soon saw that it was to be sold sepa-
rately. The mother begged her new master to buy
her child, but he did not want it, and would not
listen to her pleading.

The child was sold to another man, but when he
came to take it from her, she clasped her arms
around it tighter than ever and clung to it. Her
master came up and tore it from her arms amid her
piercing shrieks and cries, and dragged her away,

128 REMINISCENCES.

cursing and abusing her as he went. Tlie scene
moved my iieart to its depths; I could endure it no
longer. I left the ground, returned to my tavern,
called for my horses, and left the town without at-
tempting to do any business. As I mounted my
horse, I heard the voice of the slave mother as she
screamed: '* My child, my child ! '* I rode away as
fast as I could, to get beyond the sound of her
cries. But that night I could not sleep ; her screams
rang in my ears, and haunted me for weeks after-
ward.

This incident increased my abhorrence of slavery
and strengthened my determination to labor for the
cruelly oppressed slaves. I resolved to labor in this
cause until the end of my days, not expecting that
I would live to see the fetters broken and the bond-
men free, yet hoping that tlic time of redemption
was not far distant. I returned home with feelings
of renewed energy and zeal for the cause of liberty.

I devoted much time and labor to aiding the poor
fugitives, but found opportunity to engage in other
benevolent worjc. The Society of Friends had a
standing committee, called the '* Committee on the
Concerns of the People of Color,'* whose business it
was to look after the educational interest of the free
colored people among us. I was a member of that
committee. A fund was raised every year by our
society to sustain schools, and to aid the poor and
destitute among the colored people. I was appointed
treasurer of this fund. We had several large settle-
ments of free colored people in the limits of our
Quarterly Meeting, which were under our care, and

THE TEMPERANCE QUESTION. 120

we sustained schools among them. With others of
the committee, I often visited these neighborhoods
to look after the interests of these poor, ignorant
people.

I also engaged in the cause of temperance? which
was as unpopular then as the anti-slavery cause.

TEMPERANCE.

I will here give a brief sketch of our struggle at
Newport in the cause of temperance, and state how
we succeeded in firmly planting those principles
which afterward made that village noted for its
sobriety and good moral influence.

Our war with King Alcohol began in 1830, and
continued for several years, resulting finally in a
complete victory on our part. Newport was a small
village of about twenty families, when I located
there in the fall of 1826. A few mechanics, such
as blacksmiths, wagon-makers, carpenters, shoe-
makers, etc., had opened shops, and there were one
or two dram shops where liquor was sold in small
quantities. There was no dry-goods store in the
village until I commenced business there. I first
opened my store with a small assortment of dry-
goods, groceries and hardware, such as was needed
by the farmers, and gradually enlarged my stock as
the demand for the articles increased.

The country was new and thinly settled, but emi-
grants from North Carolina and other places came
in and the population grew in number year by year.

The liquor business increased as the village and
neighborhood became more thickly settled, and

I30

REMINISCENCES,

Other dram shops were added. It was no uncom-
mon thing to see a drinking, swearing gang of row-
dies about these places of dissipation, or to hear
them quarreling and fighting among themselves.
Frequently, on the last day of the week a company
of roughs from the surrounding neighborhoods
would meet at Newport and have a drunken spree.

The only religious denominations in the neighbor-
hood were Friends and Methodists ; the former were
the most numerous, but the latter had a church or-
ganization. Friends in the village became much
annoyed by the liquor shops and the noisy disturb-
ances which resulted from them, and a few of us
often labored with the liquor sellers, but to no effect.
One evening Daniel Puckett, Dr. Henry H. Way and
I. met, according to agreement, to consult together in
regard to this growing evil in our village. We felt
that something must be done, if possible, to put a
stop to it, but knew that before anything could be
effectually accomplished, the public sentiment must
be aroused, and that the people must recognize the
enormity of this growing evil. How shall we pro-
c;ped to do this ? was the question that we consid-
ered. It was suggested and agreed upon that we
should try to organize a temperance society, but the
next question was, how will this take with the pub-
lic? We knew of no such organization west of the
mountains, and realized that if we engaged in the
work it must be as pioneers. We knew that Friends
professed to be a temperance society ; that our dis-
cipline prohibited our members from distilling, im-
porting or vending spirituous liquors, and from the

THE TEMPERANCE qUESTION. 131

unnecessary use of the same, but we might differ as
to what the necessary use of liquor was.

Friends were not, as a general thing, total abstain-
crs from liquor, and the question to be considered
'was, will they sustain us in this move? To suc-
ceed, we knew that we must also get the Meth-
odists of the neighborhood interested in the matter
and gain their support, so we selected three of the
most influential members of that denomination in
the place, and invited them to meet us in council.

They came at the appointed time : Edward Star-
buck, James Driggins, and another whose name I
do not recollect. The result of the council was that
we united in calling a meeting at our school-house in
the town for the purpose of organizing a temper-
ance society.

Several advertisements were written and signed
by the six persons present : three Friends and three
Methodists. These were posted in different parts
of the village, and the result was that a public ex-
citement was created and that a large number of peo-
ple — both men and women — assembled at the school-
house on the appointed evening. A chairman was
chosen and the meeting called to order ; then a com-
mittee to prepare a constitution and by-laws was
nominated. This committee retired, but as the
writings had been previously prepared, they soon
returned and reported. Then, on the motion to
adopt, the battle commenced. We expected to
meet with opposition, but were not prepared for
such formidable opposition from many of the promi-
nent religionists of the neighborhood. King Al-

,32 REMINISCENCES.

cohol and his votaries opened fire on our little band
of cold-water adherents, but we were well prepared
for defense, having enlisted for the war, and ex-
pected a long hard struggle. Our number was
small, but we felt that one, rightly armed, cottld
chase a thousand, and two could put ten thousand to
flight.

The battle continued for several hours. The
enemy evidently weakened and lost ground ; a few
were captured. The society was organized under
the name of the ** Newport Temperance Society," *
and twelve signers to the constitution and pledge. —
were obtained. The meeting then adjourned, to—
assemble again the next week at the same place.
We knew that no church could be obtained for the
purpose of holding such an incendiary meeting, as it
was termed. At the next meeting the opposition
was still formidable. All sorts of accusations were
brought against us, and many flimsy arguments
were adduced to prove that our work should not
go on and could not end in success. Among other
things we were accused of wanting to take away
their liberty as independent citizens, of wishing to
connect Church and State, etc. The result of the
second meeting was the addition of forty names to
the temperance society. The women were now
wide awake, and rallied to our side ; this gave us
strength and encouragement.

As the news of our organization spread over the
neighboring country, the excitement became greater.
The frequent expressions were: **Our liberties are
endangered by these fanatics at Newport ; they arc

THE TEMPERANCE QUESTION, 133

turning the world upside down in their fanatical
zeal,*' etc. Our work was now the absorbing topic
of conversation. The liquor sellers became alarmed ;
not only those in Newport, but those in neighboring
villages. Their business was in danger ; something
must be done to check the movement that had be-
gun at Newport. They held a council at Williams-
burg, a village four miles west of our place, and the
result was that they sent us a challenge for a debate
on the subject, between three men of their choosing
and three men of our choosing. We called a meet-
ing and accepted their challenge, appointing a com-
mittee to make all preliminary arrangements, and
to select our three men. Our opponents selected
John Hough and E. Lee, of Williamsburg ; and Jo-
seph Lomax, of that vicinity, as their champions;
all of them were Democrats. Lee was a merchant
in Williamsburg, interested in the liquor business
there, and was considered a strong debater. Our
committee chose Dr. Henry H. Way, Willis Davis,
our school teacher, of Newport ; and Abel Lomax,
from the neighborhood of Williamsburg. Abel
Lomax had been a member of the State Legisla-
ture for several years, having been elected on the
Whig tit ket, and was a thorough temperance man.
It was agreed that the meeting should be held at
oiir school-house, commencing at two o'clock in the
afternoon. A large company gathered, and strict
attention was given to the proceedings. Esquire
Curtis presided over the meeting, which lasted till
twelve o'clock at night. The debate was long and
hot on the side of the opposition, but their argu-

I* A REMINISCENCES.

ments were calmly and forcibly met by our valiant
men, and a complete victory was gained for tempi-r-
an ce.

Notwithstanding the opposition we had to con-
tend with, and the flouts and jeers directed against
us, even by professors of religion, we persevered in
the work, holding frequent meetings, appointing
committees to labor in the cause, visiting the liquor
dealers and those who patronized them, and in every
way we could forwarding a cause which seemed to
us a righteous one.

Our number increased, many who had first op-
posed us falling into rank, and in less than one
year wc had between three and four hundred signers
to our pledge. Public sentiment had so changed in
our village and neighborhood, that a man who had
any regard for his reputation would not be seen
going into a liquor shop to purchase liquor for any
purpose. Several of our liquor dealers were starved
out for want of custom. They closed their shops and
moved away when their licenses expired, not being
able to renew them for want of the requisite num-
ber of freehold signers to their petitions. Many
of the drinking, rowdy class in our neighborhood
moved away into a more congenial atmosphere, so
that quite a change was wrought in our quiet little
village and the surrounding neighborhood. All the
dram shops were now gone except one ; that was kept
on a small scale. We had labored much with the
proprietor of this shop ; he often promised to close
his establishment but failed to do so, and finally
bade us defiance. His license had not yet expired,

THE TEMPERANCE QUESTION, 135

and he thought that we could not move him. We
called a meeting at the school-house to consider his
case. We invited him to it, but he refused to come,
and still defied us. We passed a resolution, pro-
scribing him as an enemy to the peace and harmony
of our town, and declaring that we would have no
dealings with him and no social intercourse, except
in case of sickness or death, while he persisted in
his nefarious business. I volunteered to carry the
resolution to him, and labor with him, having been
well acquainted with him for many years. I did so,
and in my conversation told him that it was impos-
sible for him to stem the current of public senti-
ment; that he had been kindly entreated by both
men and women, and fair offers had been made to
him by those who felt a deep interest in his wel-
fare, but he had turned a deaf ear to all our plead-
ings, and bade us defiance. Now, I told him, we
were determined to stop the liquor business in New-
port, and we should watch him, day and night, and
prosecute him for every unlawful act, but I pleaded
with him to stop at once, then no prosecution would
be brought against him. I told him that we were
his friends, not his enemies, and sought only his
good. He finally yielded and gave up the busi-
ness, and moved away. Not a drop of liquor was
now sold in our town ; we had succeeded beyond
our most sanguine expectations. But we did nol
rest in this quietness.

A stranger to the most of us, by the name of
Mann, came to Newport, and rented a house, under
the pretense of keeping a grocery. He moved into

136 REMINISCENCES,

the dwelling attached to the store, but we soon
found that his groceries were to consist of a gv nerai
assortment of liquors. He had managed to get the
requisite number of signers to a petition for license
to sell liquor; he had obtained them slyly in out
township. As soon as it was known in Newport,
wc got up a remonstrance and obtained over four
hundred signers to it. The next week was Com-
missioner's Court at Centerville. Eli Osborne and
I were appointed to attend court, and present the
remonstrance when the license was applied for. We
did this, and the license was not granted. We re-
turned home rejoicing at our success, but next day
Mann employed a lawyer, who succeeded in making
the court believe that they were obliged to grant
the license, as the requisite number of freeholders
had signed the petition. Mann now rejoiced over
us, and bade us defiance. He opened his liquor
shop, and drinking companies soon gathered from
surrounding neighborhoods, and drunken men were
again seen in our streets. We labored with him, to
no effect. But this reign of terror was of short
duration. The Temperance Society held frequent
meetings ; we had many able temperance lecturers ;
our committees were at work; we were vigilant in
all our efforts, and endeavored to w^atch over and
guard the reformed drunkards. One of these re-
formed drunkards lived on the opposite side of the
street from this shop; but he was faithful to his
pledge, and did not yield to the temptation which
was kept prominently before him.
At a late hour, one night, a few weeks after this

THE TEMPERANCE qUESTJON, 137

liquor shop had been opened, a pistol was fired from
it, and the shot passed through a pane of glass in the
house across the street, entered the bedroom where
this reformed man and his wife wer§ sleeping, and
lodged in the wall a few inches above their heads,
waking them immediately.

Early next morning this man went to Centerville
and got out a writ for the liquor seller, and the
sheriff came and arrested him and lodged him in jail
to await his trial before the next court. While he
was in jail his property was attached for debt. It
Was difficult for him to find bail, but at last he suc-
ceeded in getting bailed out of prison, as it was
some time till court convened, and he left for parts
unknown. He never returned to Newport, for he
knew that other writs awaited him. This closed the
liquor traffic in Newport.

We elected Esquire Curtis, one of our strong
temperance men, to the Legislature from our district,
and while he was our representative, we sent up a
petition for a special act of the Legislature for the
protection of our village against the liquor traffic.
Special acts could sometimes be obtained under the
old Constitution of the State, and through the influ-
ence of Esquire Curtis and others an act was passed,
so that no liquor could be sold in the corporate
limits of Newport, for any purpose, without a permit
from the trustees of the town. Now, we had gained
a complete victory over King Alcohol in Newport,
and pubHc sentiment had been so changed that there
was no dram shop in New Garden Township.

Some of our citizens thought that it was neces-
12

138

REMINISCENCES.

sary to have some spirits kept in Newport for medi-
cal and mechanical purposes, and the temperance
society appointed me liquor seller, as there was no
drug store in ^the place at that time, and no stock
of medicines except the small assortment which I
kept.

I reluctantly submitted to become Hquor seller
and obtained a permit from the trustees. I procured
at Cincinnati, from Allen & Co., druggists, three
two-gallon jugs, one filled with French brandy, one
with wine, the other with alcohol. Thus, my stock
of liquor consisted of six gallons, which lasted for
several months. I was the only liquor dealer in
Newport for about a year, then Dr. Way opened a
drug store, and I gladly turned the business over to
him. Newport still remains a temperance town,
having been guarded and protected for more than
forty years, as no other town in the State has been,
so far as I have any knowledge. After our work at
Newport seemed to be accomplished, we extended
our labors to other towns and villages near, but met
with little encouragement. Public sentiment was
opposed to us ; the people did not seem prepared to
receive temperance doctrine at that early day.

THE CUNNING SLA VE.

139

CHAPTER V.

NEWPORT STORIES — THE CUNNING SLAVE — ROBERT BUR-

REL — ELIZA HARRIS — SAM, THE ELOQUENT SLA^E

— PREJUDICE AGAINST COLOR — AUNT RACHEL — A

SLAVE-HUNTER OUTWITTED — SEVENTEEN FUGI-

•TIVES.

OF the many hundred cases that came under our
personal notice during the twenty years that
we Hved at Newport, Indiana, a few will be given. I
shall not attempt to give dates, nor the names of the
runaway slaves. When the fugitives came to our
house, they seldom gave the name by which they
had been known in slavery, or if they did, we gave
them another name, by which they were afterward
known. -both at our house and in Canada. The
stories that follow are gathered from the slaves' own
narratives.

THE CUNNING SLAVE.

Jim was a shrewd, intelligent chattel, the property
of a man living in Kentucky. Having in some un-
accountable manner got the idea that freedom was
better than bondage, he resolved to make an effort
to gain his liberty. He did not make his intention
known to his wife or any of his fellow-bondmen,
choosing to make the attempt alone. He watched

I40

REMINISCENCES,

for an opportunity to escape, and when it came he
started for the Ohio River. He knew that he was
a valuable piece of property, and that his master
would pursue him and make strong efforts to cap-
ture him, so he let no grass grow under his feet till
he reached the bank of the river. He wandered
along this in the dark for some time, looking for a
way to cross, and finally came to the hut of a col-
ored man. He told his story to the negro living in
the hut, and offered him part of the small sum of
money he had if he would take him across in a skiff
to the Indiana shore. The negro knew where a
skiff lay drawn up on the shore, and consented to row
him across. Jim reached the other side safely, and
landed a short distance above Madison. It was now
near daylight, and he must hasten to seek a place of
concealment. He was. directed how to find George
De Baptist, a free colored man, who often aided
fugitive slaves. George then lived in Madison, but
soon after removed to Detroit, Michigan, for his
own safety. Jim made his way to the house of this
friendly colored man, and remained secreted during
the day. Some time in the day, George De Baptist
learned that Jim's master had arrived in town with a
posse of men, and that they were rudely entering
the houses of colored people, searching for the miss-
ing slave. By shrewd management on the part of
George, the hunters were baffled, and the next
night Jim was conducted through corn-fields and
by-ways to a depot of the Underground Railroad.
He was forwarded from station to station, at late
hours in the night, until he reached William Beard's,

THE CUNNING SLA VE,

141

in Union County, Indiana. Here he rested a few
days, under the roof of that noted and worthy abo-
litionist, whose house was known for many years as
a safe retreat for the oppressed fugitive. From that
place he was conducted to our house, a distance of
about twenty-five miles, and, after remaining with
us one day, he was forwarded on from station to
station, till he reached Canada. Here he remained
a few months. In telling his story, he said :

"Oh, how sweet it was to breathe free air, to feel
that I had no massa who could whip me or sell me.
But I was not happy long. I could nor enjoy liberty
when the thoughts of my poor wife and children in
slavery would rise up before me. I thought to my-
self, I have learned the way and found friends all
along the road ; now I will go back and fetch my
wife and children. I'll go to old massa's planta-
tion, and rU make believe I am tired of freedom.
I'll tell old massa a story that will please him ; then
I will go to work hard and watch for a chance to
slip away my wife and children.*'

So Jim left Canada and wended his way back to
the old plantation in Kentucky. His master was
greatly surprised, one morning, to see his missing
property come walking up from the negro quarters
as if nothing had happened. Jim came up to him
and made a low bow, and stood before him as hum-
ble as a whipped dog. In answer to the volley of
questions and hard names that greeted him, Jim
said:

**I thought I wanted to be free, massa, so I run
away and went to Canada. But I had a* hard time

142

REMINISCENCES,

there, and soon got tired of taking care of myselfl
I thought I would rather live with massa again and
be a good servant. I found that Canada was no
place for niggers ; it's too cold, and we can't make
any money there. Mean white folks cheat poor
niggers out of their wages when they hire them. I
soon got sick of being free, and wished I was back
on the old plantation. And those people called
abolitionists, that I met with on the way, are a mean
set of rascals. They pretend to help the niggers,
but they cheat them all they can. They get all the
work out of 'a nigger they can, and never pay him
for it. I tell you, massa, they are mean folks."

In narrating his story, Jim said: **Well, old
massa seemed mightily pleased with my lies. He
spoke pleasant to me, and said: *Jim, I hope you
will make a good missionary among our people and
the neighbors.' I got massa's confidence, and
worked well and obeyed him well, and I talked to
the niggers before him, in a way to please him.
But they could understand me, for I had been doing
missionary work among them, and the neighbors*
niggers too, but not such missionary work as massa
thought I was doing."

Jim worked on faithfully through the fall and
winter months, all the time arranging matters for
a second flight.

In the spring, when the weather was warm, he
succeeded in getting his wife and children and ^ few
of his slave friends across the Ohio River into In«
diana. He got safely to the first station of the
Underground Railroad, with his party, numbering

THE CUNNING SLA VE, 143

fourteen, and hurried on with them rapidly from
station to station, until they reached our house.
They were hotly pursued and had several narrow
escapes, but the wise management of their friends
on the route prevented them from being captured.
They remained at our house several days to rest, as
they were much exhausted with night travel, and
suffering from exposure, and while they were con-
cealed in our garret, their pursuers passed through
the town.

The hunters went northward by way of Winchester
and Cabin Creek, where there was a large settlement
of free colored people. While they were searching
in these neighborhoods, we forwarded the fugitives
on another route, by way of Spartansburg, Green-
ville and Mercer County, Ohio, to Sandusky. From
this place they were shipped across the lake to Fort
Maiden, Canada. Jim's opinions, as he had ex-
pressed them to his master, now underwent a sudden
change. He liked the country and the people, and
thought that he could make a living not only for
himself, but for his family. As to the abolitionists
along the route, he thought they were the best peo-
ple in the world. Instead of cheating the poor
fugitives by getting their services without pay, they
fed and clothed them without charge, and would
help them on their journey ; often using their own
horses and wagons, and traveling all night with the
fugitives. A few years after I had the pleasure of
seeing Jim and his family in their comfortable home
in Canada. Jim said he hoped God would forgive
him for telling his master so many lies. He said he

144

REMINISCENCES.

felt no feelings of homesickness, no longings for
massa and the old plantation in Kentucky.

ROBERT BURREL.

A colored man, who gave his name as Robert
Burrel, came to my house, seeking employment.
He said he had been working several months at Flat
Rock, in Henry County, but that his employer there
had no work for him during the winter, and had
recommended him to call on me. He said he had
been brought up in Tennessee, but, thinking he had
rather live in a free State, had come to Indiana a
few months before. I liked his sober and intelligent
appearance, and gave him employment in my pork-
house. I found him to be a deeply religious man
and a most faithful and trustworthy servant. He
was pleasant in his manner and speech, but was
never heard to indulge in loud laughter. He seemed
to have some serious subject on his mind, over
which he was constantly brooding. If any one
inquired particularly concerning his past life, he
evaded the questions, and it was not until he had
been in my employment for several months that he
ventured to tell me the true state of his case. He
was a runaway slave, and belonged to a man living
in East Tennessee. He had married a free colored
woman living there, and was as happy as it was pos-
sible for a slave to be, until he learned that his
master was about to sell him to a trader who would
take him to the far South. Then he ran away, leav-
ing his wife and two children, and made his way to
Indiana. His object was to gain enough money to

ROBERT BURRELL,

145

buy his freedom and send for his family. He had
been working with this end in view, but had kept
his fears, hopes and anxieties in his own heart, lest
he should be betrayed and lose the liberty that was
so sweet His story gained my sympathy, and I
promised to aid him in any way I could. We often
consulted together concerning his wife and two kttle
boys. He represented his wife as being a Christian
woman, and said that she was a member of the
Methodist Church ; to which he also belonged. She
had promised to remain faithful to him, and to await
patiently the result of his effort. I discouraged his
attempt to buy himself, as it would take several
years of hard work, and might then be a failure. I
advised him to save all the money he could, and
perhaps some way would open by which his wife
and children could get to him, and go with him to
Canada. But he felt very timid about sending for
his wife and children before securing his own free-
dom, for he feared they would be tracked and his
whereabouts discovered.

I continued him in my employ, putting him in my
linseed oil mill, and paying him extra wages for his
care and good management. In conversation with
him, one day, I found that he knew something about
John Rankin, a noted abolitionist and Presbyterian
clergyman, formerly of East Tennessee, but then
living at Ripley, Ohio.

I wrote to friend Rankin, giving the outlines of
Robert's story, and asking him if he thought the
wife and two children could be brought to Ohio
without arousing the suspicions of Robert's mas-

146

REMINISCENCES.

ter and leading to his detection. He wrote me, in
reply, that some of his family were going to East
Tennessee soon, on a visit to their relatives there,
and he thought they could have an interview with
Robert's wife, and arrange to have her and the
children removed to Ohio. I kept up a correspond-
enoj with him on the subject, and ascertaining that
it would cost about forty dollars to move the woman
and children to Ohio, I sent him that amount, to
be applied for that purpose. I sent a message to be
delivered to Robert's wife, telling her that if she
would come to Ripley, Ohio, she could gain infor-
mation of her husband. The message was delivered
to her by the friends of John Rankin, but they did
not succeed in gaining her confidence, and she would
not come to Ohio, fearing that it was a scheme to
betray her husband. So the project failed at that
time, and John Rankin returned the money I had
sent him ; but two years later we renewed our efforts,
and succeeded in bringing the woman and her chil-
dren to Ripley. From this place, lest somebody
should have traced them from Tennessee, hoping to
learn the whereabouts of Robert, they were taken
to Cincinnati. Soon afterward they were brought
to my house in Newport, and there was a joyful
meeting Ifetween husband and wife, after a sepa-
ration of four years.

I purchased for them a little home in Newport,
which Robert paid for by his work, and here they
lived happily several years, with none to molest or
make them afraid. When the fugitive slave law of

THE STORY OF ELIZA HARRIS.

147

1850 was passed, they left and went to Canada for
greater security.

THE STORY OF EI.IZA HARRIS.

Eliza Harris, of "Uncle Tom's Cabin'* notoriety,
the slave woman who crossed the Ohio River, near
Ripley, on the drifting ice with her child in her
arms, was sheltered under our roof and fed at our
table for several days. This was while we lived at
Newport, Indiana, which is six miles west of the
State line of Ohio. To elude the pursuers who were
following closely on her track, she was sent across
to our line of the Underground Railroad.

The story of this slave woman, so graphically told
by Harriet Beecher St owe in *' Uncle Tom's Cabin,"
will, no doubt, be remembered by every reader of
that deeply interesting book. The cruelties of
slavery depicted in that remarkable work arc not
overdrawn. The stories are founded on facts that
really occurred, real names being wisely withheld,
and fictitious names and imaginary conversations
often inserted. From the fact that Eliza Harris was
sheltered at our house several days, it was generally
believed among those acquainted with the circum-
stances that I and my wife were the veritable Simeon
and Rachel Halliday, the Quaker couple alluded to
in "Uncle Tom's Cabin." I will give a short sketch
of the fugitive's story, as she related it.

She said she was a slave from Kentucky, the
property of a man who lived a few miles back from
the Ohio River, below Ripley, Ohio. Her master
and mistress were kind to her, and she had a com-

148

REMINISCENVES.

fortable home, but her master got into some pecu-
niary difficulty, and she found that she and her only
child were to be separated. She had buried two
children, and was doubly attached to the one she
had left, a bright, promising child, over two years
old. When she found that it was to be taken from
her, she was filled with grief and dismay, and re
solved to make her escape that night if possible.
She watched her opportunity, and when darkness
had settled down and all the family had retired to
sleep, she started with her child in her arms and
walked straight toward the Ohio River. She knew
that it was frozen over, at that season of the year,
and hoped to cross without difficulty on the ice, but
when she reached its banks at daylight, she found
that the ice had broken up and was slowly drifting
in large cakes. She ventured to go to a house near
by, where she was kindly received and permitted to
remain through the day. She hoped to find some
way to cross the river the next night, but there
seemed little prospect of any one being able to
cross in safety, for during the day the ice became
more broken and dangerous to cross. In the even-
ing she discovered pursuers nearing the house, and
with desperate courage she determined to cross the
river, or perish in the attempt. Clasping her child
in her arms she darted out of the back door and ran
toward the river, followed by her pursuers, who had
just dismounted from their horses when they caught
sight of her. No fear or thought of personal dan-
ger entered Eliza's mind, for she felt that she had
rather be drowned than to be captured and sepa-

THE STORY OF ELIZA HARRIS i^g

rated from her child. Clasping her babe to her
bosom with her left arm, she sprang on to the first
cake of ice, then from that to another and another.
Some times the cake she was on would sink beneath
her weight, then she would slide her child on to the
next cake, pull herself on with her hands, and so
continue her hazardous journey. She became wet
to the waist with ice water and her hands were be-
numbed with cold, but as she made her way from
one cake of ice to another, she felt that surely the
Lord was preserving and upholding her, and that
nothing could harm her.

When she reached the Ohio side, near Ripley,
she was completely exhausted and almost breath-
less. A man, who had been standing on the bank
watching her progress with amazement and expect-
ing every moment to see her go down, assisted her
up the bank, ^fter she had recovered her strength
a little he directed her to a house on the Jiill, in the
outskirts of town. She made her way to the place,
and was kindly received and cared for. It was not
considered safe for her to remain there during the
night, so, after resting a while and being provided
with food and dry clothing, she was conducted to a
station on the Underground Railroad, a few miles
farther from the river. The next night she was for-
warded on from station to station to our house in
Newport, where she arrived safely and remained
several days.

Other fugitives arrived in the meantime, and Eliza
and her child were sent with them, by the Green-
ville branch of the Underground Railroad, to San-

ISO

REMimSCENCES.

dusky, Ohio. They reached that place in safety,
and crossed the lake to Canada, locating finally at
Chatham, Canada West.

In the summer of 1854 I was on a visit to Can-
ada, accompanied by my wife and daughter, and
Laura S. Haviland, of Michigan. At the close of a
meeting which we attended, at one of the colored
churches, a woman came up to my wife, seized her
hand, and exclaimed: **How are you, Aunt Katie?
God bless you !" etc. My wife did not recognize
her, but she soon called herself to our remembrance
by referring to the time she was at our house in the
days of her distress, when my wife gave her the-
name of Eliza Harris, and by relating other partic
ulars. We visited her at her house while at Chat
ham, and found her comfortable and contented.

Many other fugitives came and spoke to us, who:

we did not recognize or remember until they relatec^
some incident that recalled them to mind. Suchi
circumstances occurred in nearly every neighbor-
hood we visited in Canada. Hundreds who had
been sheltered under our roof and fed at our table,
when fleeing from the land of whips and chains,
introduced themselves to us and referred to the
time, often fifteen or twenty years before, when we
had aided them.

On the first day of August, 1854, we went, with
a large company from Windsor, to attend a celebra-
tion of the West India emancipation. The meeting
was held in a dense settlement of fugitives, about
eight miles south of Windsor. Several public
speakers from Detroit were in our party. A plat-

SAM, THE ELOqUEJST SLA VE. j 5 1

form had been erected in a grove near the school-
house, where Laura S. Haviland had established a
school for fugitives. The day was fine, and there
was a large crowd of colored people, who had come
from various settlements to hear the speaking.
Here we met quite a number of those whom we
had helped on their way to freedom, and the grati-
tude they expressed was quite affecting. One old
^hite-headed man came to my wife, and said he
wanted to get hold of her hand. She reached her
hand to him, and while he held it, he said : " Don't
you 'member me, Misses?**

She looked at him closely, and said: "No, I be-
lieve I do not remember thee.'*

Then the old negro said: "La me! Misses, don't
you 'member when dey was close after me to take
me an' you hid me in de feather bed and saved me ?
Why, bress your heart ! if it hadn't been for you I
should nebber been here. It's more dan twenty
years ago, and my head is white, but I hasn't forgot
dat time. "

She shook his hand heartily, and said : "Now I
remember thee."

At Amherstburg, generally called Fort Maiden,
and many other places, we met with many, both
men and women, whom we had assisted on their
way to liberty, and their expressions of thankfulness
and regard were very gratifying to us.

SAM, THE ELOQUENT SLAVE.

The subject of this sketch was the property of a
man living near Lexington, Kentucky. He had a

152

REMINISCENCES.

wife and several children whom he was permitted
to visit frequently, was well treated by his master,
and had no fear of being sold away from his family ;
so his condition was a very favorable one, compared
with that of many other slaves. But this state of
security came suddenly to an end. The master died
and the heirs decided to sell Sam, but as he was
very powerful, and a dangerous man to deal with
when his spirit was roused, no one dared to take
possession of him and tell him that he was sold
away from his family. What could not be done by
force was' accomplished by stratagem. Sam was
sent into the jail to take a box of candles, and, all
unsuspecting, walked into the trap. Several men
were hidden behind the door, and leaping out sud-
denly, they knocked him down, overpowered and
bound him. He then learned that he was bought
by a negro trader, who intended taking him to the
South. Just before the coffle started, Sam's wife
was permitted to come to the jail to bid him good-
by, but her distress was so great and she wept so
loudly that she was hurried out and taken away
without having been able to say a word. Sam
was taken to Mississippi and sold, but after several
months managed to escape, and after much difficulty
and many hardships found his way back to Lexing-
ton, Kentucky, where he hoped to find some one
who would purchase him and allow him to remain
near his family, but in this effort he did not succeed.
Hearing that pursuers were on his track, he left
that neighborhood, and succeeded in making his
way to Newport, Indiana, where he arrived in the

SAM, THE ELOq VENT SLA VE. 153

dead of winter, in a destitute and suffering condition.

I persuaded him to remain till better weather,
when the roads would be open and traveling easierj
and he remained till spring, I in the meantime fur-
nishing him with emph)yment at good wages. It
may be in place here to mention that the abolition-
ists were frequently accused, by pro-slavery people,
of iavailing themselves of the labor of the fugitive
slaves by employing them several months on the
promise of good wages, then raising the alarm that
the masters were in pursuit, and hustling them off
on the road to Canada without paying the wages
due them. It is almost needless to say that this
accusation was false. During that winter there was
a monthly prayer-meeting, held in the Wesleyan
Chapel at Newport, on behalf of the slaves, and I
asked Sam to attend one of these meetings with me.
He at first hesitated, so fearful was he of being
betrayed, but on being assured that there was no
danger, he consented to go.

It seemed strange to him that white people should
pray for slaves ; he had never heard of such a thing
before. As others were telling stories of the suffer-
ings of slaves, I suggested to Sam that he should
give his experience. To this he consented, with
reluctance, and I rose and informed the meeting
that a fugitive slave was sitting by my side, whose
story I was sure would be interesting to all present.
Sam then rose from his seat and gave a short history
of his sufferings, together with a vivid description
of the horrors of slavery, and so interested his hear-
ers that they expressed a desire to hear him again.

154

REMINISCENCES,

He was prevailed upon to speak another time,
when a larger number would have an opportunity to
hear him, and a meeting was appointed for this pur-
pose. When the evening came the church was
crowded. Sam was conducted to the pulpit by the
minister and myself. We made short introductory
speeches, then Sam spoke for more than an hour to
the attentive and deeply interested audience. They
had not expected to hear good language from a slave
who had had no educational advantages, and were
surprised to find his speech resembling that of a
practiced orator. Sam had, during the life of his
indulgent master, had frequent opportunities of hear-
ing public speeches in Lexington, and this experi-
ence, which had been a sort of education to him,
added to his native eloquence, enabled him to hold
his audience spellbound, while he depicted in glow-
ing words the cruelty of slavery and the manifold
sufferings of the slaves. He then gave an account
of his own trials, and pictured in a touching manner
the scene of his wife's separation from him when he
was bound in jail, and finished with an appeal to the
audience so full of pathos that the heart of every
one was touched, and nearly all his hearers were
melted to tears.

Some of them declared afterward that they
thought Henry Clay could not surpass him in elo-
quence. Shortly after this the United Brethren
held a Conference in Newport, and wishing to have
Sam address them, a deputation called at my house,
to speak with him on the subject. They were
shown into the parlor, where a fire was burning, and

PREJUDICE A OAINST COLOR, j 5 5

as I sat talking with them, Sam came in with an
armful of wood to replenish the fire.

One of the deputation said: "Is this the man?'*
and I answered, **Yes;" then remarked to Sam
that these men wished to see him. Sam went out
quickly and did not return. When I went to look
for him, I found him outside the kitchen door, with
a large butcher knife in his hand, ready to defend
himself. He thought that the men had come to
take him, and was determined to sell his life or lib-
erty as dearly as possible. When the matter was
explained, he went in to see the men, and afterward
spoke for them. In the spring he was sent on to
Canada, where he was out of the slave-dealer's
power forever.

PREJUDICE AGAINST COLOR.

A white man from Massachusetts moved with his
family to Missouri, bought a farm and settled there.
One of his neighbors had a slave, a young man
nearly white, who was willed free at a certain age.
The time of his bondage had nearly expired when
the gentleman from Massachusetts hired him of his
master, and after he became free, he continued in
the same service. He proved to be a very intelli-
gent, industrious and trusty man, and his employer
soon gave him the entire control of the farm and all
affairs of out-door business. The family did not
have good health in their new home, and becoming
dissatisfied with the locality resolved to return to
Massachusetts.

The farm was sold and the other property dis-

156

REMINISCENCES.

posed of, and they were about to start eastward,
when the husband and father sickened and died. A
short time before he breathed his last, he called his
servant to his bedside and requested him to take
charge of his wife and two daughters and see them
safely back to their home in the East.

The man promised faithfully that he would fulfill
this request, and soon after the funeral was over the
little party started. It was before the time of rail-
roads or turnpikes in the West, and they went in a
wagon, drawn by four horses, the colored man driv-
ing the team, and attending to all matters connected
with the journey. Passing over the prairies of Illi-
nois and Indiana, they found the mud very deep
and the roads almost impassable, it being late in the
fall, and when they reached Indianapolis they con-
cluded to remain there during the winter. The
young man found employment with his team, and
supported the family by his work.

The two daughters were well educated and accom-
plished young ladies, and when they became known
were greeted as acquisitions to the society of the
place. They were members of the Presbyterian
Church and taught in the Sabbath-schools of that
denomination, and being good singers were invited
to join the choir.

The mulatto man in their family, who was really
almost white and possessed none of the negro feat-
ures, was very gentlemanly in his appearance and
manners, and so kind and attentive to them and
thoughtful for their welfare, that one of the daugh'
ters became very much attached to him. He had

PREJUDICE AGAINST COLOR. 1 5 7

long loved hes in secret, without daring to speak,
but now, finding that his love was reciprocated, saw
no reason why they should not be married.

The mother gave her consent, and accompanied
her prospective son-in-law to obtain the marriage
license.

On the evening of the wedding, the. news spread
through the city that a negro had married a white
woman, and an infuriated mob filled the street in
front of the house, and with hoots and yells pro-
ceeded to search for the man — several shades lighter
than some of themselves — who dared to marry a
white woman. The bridgroom escaped by a back
way and fled to the woods for safety, as if he were a
fugitive slave. Not finding him, the mob dragged
the bride out of the house and rode her on a rail
through the streets, as a demonstration of the popu-
lar indignation. The bridgroom remained concealed
in th# woods for awhile, finding no way to commun-
icate with his wife, and not daring to venture back
to get his clothes or to say good-by. He was in
deep distress and knew not what to do.

The city was in an uproar of excitement, and the
indignant citizens were searching the houses of the
colored people for this terrible criminal who had
committed so great a sin as to marry a woman a
^hade lighter than himself, and that with the full
approbation of her mother and sister. It was evi-
dent that he could not show himself in Indianapolis
again with safety. He moved eastward and got into
a colored settlement at Flat Rock, Henry County,

1 5 8 RE^fINISCEXCES.

from which place he was directed te> my house at
Newport.

The news of the marriage flew all over the State.
The newspapers were full of it, and the public
sentiment was aroused. The dreadful prospect of
amalgamation loomed before the people like an
impending curse. It must be put a stop to at once.
The Legislature was in session at Indianapolis at the
time this occurred, and they took immediate action
concerning it. They passed a law placing a heavy
penalty on any clergyman or magistrate who should
marry a white person to one in whose veins there
was a drop of colored blood. Several members of
the Legislature, and a number of prominent citizens
visited the offending family and urged them to apply
for a divorce.

The poor girl was almost crazy with trouble, hav-
ing been disgraced by being ridden on a rail, and
alarmed by the threats of the outrageous moh, and
her mother and sister were also alarmed, and finally,
through fear, they yielded to the threats and per-
suasions of their visitors, and signed a petition for a
divorce. The Legislature at once divorced the
couple, and the young lady was declared free from
the disgraceful alliance. It was found to be a very
nice point in carrying out the new law, to detect the
drop of colored blood. No minister or magistrate
was safe in marrying any couple. The law would
not work, and was repealed the following year.

Many people blamed me for taking in Charley,
the young colored man, and harboring one whom
they regarded as a great criminal. I gave him em-

PREJUDICE AGAINST COLOR.

159

ployment, and he remained with me for several
xnonths. He proved to be quiet, orderly and in-
dustrious, and very gentlemanly in all his ways, yet
raany of the women in our town and neighborhood
Were as much afraid of him as if he were a murderer.
^ly wife and a few other women had no such foolish
Cear of poor Charley, but sympathized with him in
\\\s troubles. Soon after he came to my house, I
ealled a council of a few of my particular friends,
those who stood by me and sustained me in all my
anti-slavery efforts. We were not in favor of amal-
gamation and did not encourage the intermarriage
or mixing of the races, but we were in favor of jus-
tice and right-dealing with all colors. This seemed
to be the united feeling of those in council. We
looked upon such marriages as a matter of choice
with the contracting parties, and not as a crime or a
sin. Many reasons might be given why we did not
encourage such a choice, but we did not criminate
those who had made the choice.

The object of this council was to take into consid-
eration the propriety of sending a deputation to
Indianapolis to learn the true state of things there,
to ascertain the feelings of Charley's wife and her
mother toward him ; and to obtain hjs clothing,
which he had been compelled to leave behind in his
hasty flight.

Charley was in deep mental distress, and needed
the counsel and sympathy of his friends. He was
not sensible of having committed any crime in mar-
rying the woman he loved, and who professed to
love him in return, but all his hopes of happiness

|60 REMINISCENCES.

were destroyed, and he was regarded as a criminal.
He was likewise deeply concerned for the welfare
of the family that had been placed in his care by
the dying husband and father.

George Shugart volunteered to go to Indianapolis^
and get Charley's clothes and learn the feelings and
wishes of the family. It was just at the time that
the Legislature had taken action in the case, and the
family were so confused and alarmed that they could
make no definite plans for the future. They thought
it best to remain where they were until spring. The
horses and wagon had been sold, at a heavy sacri-
fice, and they had no means of continuing their
journey then. So the messenger brought little
comfort to Charley. He remained in my employ
until late in the spring, when he learned that the
mother and her two daughters had left Indianapolis
and gone to Cincinnati. As soon as he received this
information he went to Cincinnati, where he joined
them. Soon after the whole party disappeared
from Cincinnati. No one knew where they went,
but it was supposed that they returned to Massachu-
setts, and that the husband and wife lived together
unmolested.

AUNT RACHEL.

The subject of this sketch, one of those good
old darkey aunties whom we have all known or
heard of, was brought up in Lexington, Kentucky.
She was a slave, a house servant, and had a kind
and indulgent master and mistress, to whom she
was much attached. She had the principal charge

AUNT RACHEL. ,6l

of household affairs. Her husband belonged to
another person in the neighborhood, but was often
permitted to visit her. They had a family of sev-
eral children, and were as happily situated as it was
possible for slaves to be. They knew that they
were liable to be separated and sold away from each
other, and this disturbed their happiness. At last
the dreaded misfortune came to them. The husband
was sold, and taken to the far South, and the wife
never saw him nor heard from him afterward. This
was a terrible shock to Aunt Rachel, and had it not
been for her children, she said she would have
prayed to die. But for their sake she bore her
grief, not thinking that she would ever be called
upon to part from them, or to experience deeper
pangs of sorrow than those she had already known.
She knew not what was in store for her. Two years
afterward her old master and mistress died, and she
and her children were sold at public sale. The
children were bid off by citizens of Lexington, but
Aunt Rachel was sold to a Southern slave-trader.
Now, indeed, came trouble. No one but a mother
who has been separated from the children she loves
can understand the. depth of her distress, or sym-
pathize with the anguish of her heart. Aunt Rachel
was torn away from her children and taken South in
a gang of slaves, which the trader had bought for
the Southern market. In Mississippi she was sold
to a cotton planter, and immediately set to work in
the cotton field. She had never been accustomed
to out-door work, and could not keep up with the
other cotton pickers. For this she was cruelly pun-

,62 REMINISCENCES,

ished, and her allowance of food reduced. Finding
that her strength was failing her under this hard
treatment, she resolved to run away, and try to
make her way back to her old Kentucky home.
She hoped, if she lived to get there, to prevail on
some of her white friends at Lexington to buy her,
and thus enable her to stay near her children. She
thought of the great distance she must traverse, and
of the dangers and hardships of such an undertaking,
but she said to herself: **It is death to stay here,
and I had rather die in the attempt to get away."

It was now the beginning of summer, and she
thought she could live on berries and fruits the
most of the time. She slipped off one night and
made good headway during the hours of darkness,
hiding in the cane-brakes when daylight appeared.
The next night she ventured to the negro quarters
of a plantation, and got some provisions. Her long
and toilsome journey was attended with much
danger and suffering, and occupied the most of the
summer. She finally reached her old home in Lex-
ingion, Kentucky, and secreted herself with a friend.
She did not dare yet to make herself known to
her children, lest it should lead to her detection,
but sometimes could hardly control herself when
she saw her youngest child, a little girl three years
old, playing in the adjoining yard. She remained
in concealment for some time, while her colored
friends tried to find some one in Lexington who
would purchase her. They were unsuccessful in
their attempts, and it was deemed unsafe for her to
remain longer in the place, as it had by this time

AUNT RACHEL,

163

become known to a number of the citizens of Lex-
ington that she had escaped from her master and
uras there. She thought she would start northward
and try to reach Canada, but while her colored
friends were making arrangements for her journey to
the North on the Underground Railroad, she re-
ceived the alarming intelligence that her master
from Mississippi had arrived in Lexington in pursuit
of her. He had had no clue to her whereabouts,
but judged that in her flight she would be guided by
that instinct which leads one across rivers and moun-
tains to the spot endeared by associations of home
and kindred.

Soon after reaching Lexington he learned that she
was secreted somewhere in the town. He offered a
reward for her capture, and a diligent search com-
menced. The police were on the alert, and poor
Aunt Rachel was soon captured and dragged to jail
for safe keeping. Her master was greatly incensed
because she had run away, and put him to so much
trouble and expense in pursuing her, and was very
abusive and threatening in his language to her. He
gave her a few keen cuts with his whip, as tokens
of what was in store for her, and told her he would
have his pay out of her when he got home ; he
would double her task, and if she did not perform it
he would cut the hide off of her with his whip.

Aunt Rachel trembled but made no reply; she
knew that she was in his power. Handcuffs were
put on her wrists, and a chain with a heavy ball fast-
ened around her ankle. Thus ironed, she lay in the
jail for more than a week, while her master was en-

1 64 REMINISCENCES.

gaged in buying a small company of slaves for his
plantation in Mississippi. When ready to start
South, he hired a wagon in which to transport his
slaves to Louisville, at which point he intended to
put them aboard a down-river boat. Aunt Rachel
was placed in the wagon, with her heavy irons on.
After a wearisome day's travel, they stopped in front
of a tavern, where they intended to spend the night.
It was quite dark, for they had been compelled to
travel some time after night-fall in order to reach a
place where they could find quarters. While her
master went into the house to see about getting
entertainment. Aunt Rachel gathered up the ball
and chain in her manacled hands, slipped out of the
hind end of the wagon, and slid down into a deep
ravine near the road. She crouched under the side
of the bank and lay as still as death. She was soon
missed, and the search for her began. Her master,
and those he called to his assistance, ran in every
direction, with lighted lanterns, looking for her, but
they overlooked her hiding-place. She was so near,
almost under the wagon, that they did not think of
searching where she lay. She remained perfectly
still, except the tumultuous throbbing of her heart;
and this she thought would surely betray her when
those in search passed near her hiding-place.

Finally, all became quiet, and the search seemed
given up for the night. Then Aunt Rachel gath-
ered up her chain and crawled off into the woods,
making her wa)^ through the darkness as fast as her
fetters would allow. She did not venture to follow
any road or beaten path, but wandered on through

AUNT RACUEL. 165

the woods, as best she could, for two or three miles.
Being quite weary under the weight of her irons,
she stopped to rest. It was cool weather, late in
the fall, and she soon felt chilly. Looking about,
she discovered some hogs lying snugly in a leafy
bed under the side of a large log, and frightening
them away, she crept into their warm bed. She now
felt comfortable, and soon fell into a refreshing sleep
that lasted an hour or two. When she awoke she
felt quite refreshed, and ready to pursue her journey.
Her situation was indeed forlorn. She had eluded
the grasp of her master, but manacled as she was,
how could she ^ver make her way to freedom and
safety? Must she not perish of hunger in the lonely
woods? How could she free herself from her hand
fetters, and from the heavy chain that was chafing
her ankle and making it sore ? As she reflected on
these questions, distress filled her mind, and she
wept. She knew of no friend but God, and she
prayed to him in this hour of need ; she asked
him to guide and help her. She ^eemed to feel
his presence with her, in answer to her petitions,
and a glow of comfort warmed her heart. She
moved on, to look for a safe place where she
might hide during the day, and came to a small
stream of water, on whose banks were a number of
large stones. She placed two stones close together
and laid her chain across them, then lifting another
stone in her fettered hands, she managed by re-
peated blows and by frequently turning it, to break
the chain; thus freeing herself of the greater part
of it, and of the heavy ball. Several links, how-

l^ REMINISCENCES,

ever, were left hanging to the band riveted around
her ankle ; from this she could not free herself. She
lay in the woods during the day, and at night ven-
tured to a house where she saw some colored people.
She was kindly received, and furnished with food.
The man succeeded in getting her handcuffs off,
which was a great relief to her, but having no file,
he was unable to relieve her of the iron band on her
leg. This colored brother gave her directions for
her journey, and put her on a route that would reach
the Ohio River, opposite Madison, Indiana. He
even ventured to take two of his master's horses out
of the field, and help her on her w^ several miles.

The next night her progress was slow on account
of her manacled ankle, which by this time was
swollen and very painful. Some time before day-
light she ventured to approach a hut, which was
situated near the road she was traveling. She dis-
covered a negro man kindling a fire, and made her-
self known to him. He received her kindly, and
his wife mini§tered to her needs. She remained
secreted during the day at this hut, and at night
felt strengthened and ready to pursue her journey.
The man had a file, and succeeded in filing off the
rivet, and loosening the band from her leg. He
then applied what simple remedies he had at hand,
and succeeded in some measure in assuaging the
pain and swelling of the ankle. At night this
kind friend helped her on her way, and conducted
her to the house of a colored man, who lived near
the Ohio River, below Madison. This man was a
slave, but had a kind and indulgent master, who

A UNT RA CHEL. 1 67 •

allowed him the use of a skiff, and permitted him
to go over the river to trade. Aunt Rachel pre-
vailed upon him to take her across the river that
night, and he landed her near Madison, directing
her how to find a settlement of free colored people
near that place. At this settlement she fell into the
hands of a trusty colored man, who lived about ten
miles out in the country, where he owned a good
farm, and was comfortably situated. Aunt Rachel
found a quiet home at his house, which was for-
tunate for her, as she was now almost unable to
travel. The chafing of the iron band around her
ankle had caused inflammation, and made a very
painful sore. She was able, however, to move
about enough to do housework. She remained at
this place all winter, unmolested. In the spring a
fugitive was captured in the neighborhood, and
Aunt Rachel and her friends became alarmed for
her safety. She was put on the Underground Rail-
road, and brought to our house at Newport. She
was anxious to remain with us for awhile, hoping
that by some means she might hear from her chil-
dren, concerning whom she was very anxious. She
thought she would be safe from pursuit, for her
master in Mississippi would not be likely to spend
much more time and money looking after her. My
wife needed help at that time, and agreed to hire
her for a few weeks. We soon found her to be one
of the best housekeepers and cooks we had ever
employed. She was carefal and trustworthy, and
exemplary in all her ways. We became much at-
tached to her; indeed, the neighbors and all who

1(38 REMINISCENCES,

knew her had a ^reat deal of respect and liking for
Aunt Rachel. Every one who heard her story, as
she related it in simple yet thrilling language, felt a
deep interest in her case. She staid with us more
than six months, and would have remained longer
had it not been considered unsafe. Some Kentuck-
ians were scouting about through our neighborhood
looking for fugitives. They made their headquarters
at Richmond, at a hotel which was a well-known
resort for negro hunters. Aunt Rachel became
alarmed, and we thought it best for her to go on to
Canada, where she would be safe. A good oppor-
tunity in the way of company for the greater part
the way offered just then, very fortunately.

A committee of men and women Friends, ap-
pointed by New Garden Quarterly Meeting to attend
the opening of a meeting at Young's Prairie, Mich-
igan, were just about starting on this mission. Aunt
Rachel was acquainted with most of them, and
wished to accompany them, and they were very
willing to engage in Underground Railroad work,
though the Quarterly Meeting had not appointed
them to that service.

We provided Aunt Rachel with warm and com-
fortable clothing for her journey to the North. A
well-filled trunk was placed in one of the carriages,
and Aunt Rachel took her scat by one of the women
Friends. She presented the appearance of a sedate
and comely Quaker woman, quite as suitable to be
ippointed on the committee as any of the company.
A-unt Rachel traveled very agreeably with this com-
mittec to Young's Prairie, Cass County, Michigan.

AUNT RACHEL,

169

She remained at the Friends' settlement there for
several days, and was then sent on the mail coach
to Detroit. At that city she called on some people
to whom we had directed her, and they sent her
across to Canada. She found employment in the
homes of white families in Windsor and Norwich,
where she remained for several months. Then she
married a respectable colored man by the name of
Keys, who owned a comfortable little home. Here
I met with her eight years afterward, when on a
visit to the fugitives in Canada, in company with
William Beard. The meeting was very unexpected
to Aunt Rachel, as she had no previous knowl-
edge of our arrival in the country. We rode up
to her little home, and hitched our horses at the
gate, some distance from the house. Aunt Rachel
was in the yard at the time, picking up kindling
wood. She stood still a moment until she recog-
nized me, then dropped her wood and rushed to
meet me, shouting and praising God. She ex-
claimed: "Is it possible the good Lord has sent
you here?'* then, with tears running down her black
cheeks, she threw her arms around me, and asked
many blessings on my head. Her emotions and
manifestations of joy at meeting me quite unman-
ned me for a time. She led us into the house, which
was snug and comfortable, and introduced us to her
husband. He appeared to be a very friendly, kind-
hearted man. Aunt Rachel informed mc that she
had suffered a great deal with her leg, where she
had worn that cruel chain. At one time she lay
for several months under treatment of some of the

15 .

,7o REMINISCENCES.

best doctors in Detroit. They decided that to save
her life the limb must be amputated. She con-
sented that the operation should be performed, and
the doctors came with their surgical instruments,
but her husband would not give his consent. He
believed that she could get well without losing her
limb. The doctors yielded, the limb was spared,
and she did get well,

A SLAVE-HUNTER OUTWITTED.

The story that I am about to relate may, in some
of its particulars, seem improbable or even impossi-
ble, to any reader not acquainted with the workings
of the southern division of the Underground Rail-
road. That two young slave girls could successfully
make their escape from a Southern State and travel
hundreds of miles, hiding in the day, in thickets. and
other secluded places, and traveling at night, crossing
rivers and swamps, and passing undiscovered through
settlements, appears more like a story of romance
than one of sober reality. But I will not test the
reader's credulity by leaving this story unexplained;
I will give a few items regarding the manner of the
escape of many slaves from the South. I have
always contended that the Underground Railroad,
so called, was a Southern institution ; that it had its
origin in the slave States. It was, however, con
ducted on quite a different principle south of Mason
and Dixon's line, from what it was on this side.
South of the line money, in most cases, was the
motive ; north, wc generally worked on principle.
For the sake of money, people in the South would

A SLAVE-HUNTER OUTWITTED, 171

help slaves to escape and convey them acrosr the
line, and by this means, women with their children,
and young girls, like the subjects of this story, were
enabled to reach the North. They were hidden in
wagons, or stowed away in secret places on steam-
boats, or conducted on foot through the country, by
shrewd managers who traveled at night and knew
what places to avoid.

Free colored people who had relatives in slavery
were willing to contribute to the utmost of their
means, to aid in getting their loved ones out of bond-
age ; just as we would do if any of our loved ones
were held in thralldom. It was by some line of the
Southern Underground Railroad that two slave girls,
living in Tennessee, managed to escape and reach
Cabin Creek, Randolph County, Indiana, where
live.d their grandparents and most of their near
relatives, who were free.

This neighborhood was settled principally by free
colored people who had purchased government land
in forty or eighty acre lots ; in some instances a
quarter section — one hundred and sixty acres — had
been entered. A dense settlement of free colored
people had formed at Cabin Creek, and a good
school had been established there, under the aus-
pices of New Garden Quarterly Meeting of Friendu,
Near the center of the colony lived the grand-
parents of the two girls mentioned, and there the
girls staid, after their long and perilous journey,
enjoying their newly gained liberty, and hoping that
their master would never learn of their whereabouts.
But they were not destined to dwell here in safety.

172

REMINISCENCES.

Their master had come to Richmond, ostensibly to
look about the neighborhood and buy cattle, but
really to gain some trace of his slave property. He
hired spies and sent them into different neighbor-
hoods, Cabin Creek among the rest, and thus the
girls were discovered. When the master learned
that his two slave girls were so near, he felt as if
they were already in his power, but when he heard
more concerning Cabin Creek neighborhood and the
character of the colored people there, he began to
think it might not be so easy to effect a capture.
When a slave-hunter came to Cabin Creek, the
people banded together to protect the fugitive he
was after, and as they were very determined in their
defense it was a difficult matter to capture the slave.
They had prearranged signals for such occasions^
and the alarm soon called the people together.

The master of the two girls obtained a writ an<l
placed it in the hands of an officer, then gathered :i
company of roughs from Richmond, Winchester an«l
other neighborhoods, and rode out to Cabin Creek
at the head of a large company of armed men.
They marched to the cabin where the two girls
were, and surrounded it.

The alarm was given as soon as the company
were seen approaching, and a boy mounted a horse
and rode off at full speed to spread the alarm. He
was fired at by some of the company, and a rifle
ball grazed his arm, making a slight flesh wound.
This only hastened his speed and increased the ex-
citement. The grandfather of the two girls was
away from home, but the brave old grandmother

A SLAVK-HUSTER 01 TWITTED.

1/3

Seized a corn-cutter and placed herself in the only
<ioor of the cabin, defying the crowd and declaring
that she would cut the first man in two who under-
took to cross the threshold. Thus she kept the
slave-hunter and his posse at bay, while a large
cro^vd of colored people collected. Quite a number
of w^hite people came also, some out of curiosity or
sympathy with the master, and others who sympa-
thized with the fugitives. It is said that there were
more than two hundred people gathered around the
cabin. The sound of the horn, and the message of
the boy, had brought together most of the colored
people in the settlement. An uncle of the slave
girls, who lived near by, seeing the crowd as they
rode up, placed himself near his mother, on the out-
side of the door, and several other sturdy negroes
stood by his side.

He was a shrewd sharp fellow, with a fair educa-
tion, and kept his presence of mind under the ex-
citing circumstances. He demanded to see the
writ, and it was handed to him by the officer. He
read it over carefully, and tried to pick flaws in it.
He denied that it gave .them any authority to enter
that house to search for property. The laws of In-
diana did not recognize human beings as property
until they had been proven to be such, and that was
a difficult thing to do. He said that he doubted
V--ry much whether the man who had obtained this
writ to arrest two slave girls could prove them to be
bis property. Furthermore, he did not believe the
girls were in that house. He extended the debate
with the master as long as possible, and in the mean-

174

EEMINISCEyCES.

time several colored people had. been permitted to
pass in and out under the sharp edge of the old
woman's corn-cutter, but no white person had been
admitted.

While the debate was going on, arrangements
were being made, both outdoors and indoors, for
the escape of the girls. The uncle understood all
this perfectly, and he was doing his part toward
success, by prolonging the palaver. The girls
dressed in boys' clothes, and put on slouch hats ;
then, while the debate outside grew warm and ex-
citement began to run high, and the slave-hunters
to declare that they would enter the house, in spite
of the corn-cutter and other obstructions, the girls
passed out of the door with other negroes, and made
their way through the crowd. Two fleet horses,
with light but very capable riders, stood near the
side of a large log, screened from the sight of the
crowd by some tall bushes. The girls stepped
quickly on the log and sprang, one on each horse,
behind the riders, and were soon out of sight.
When the uncle knew that the girls were at a safe
distance, he began to moderate and proposed a
compromise. Speaking in a whisper to his mother,
he appeared to be consulting with her on the sub-
ject, and finally said, that if the master of the girls
would agree to give them a fair trial at Winchester,
he and his posse would be allowed to enter the
house peaceably. This was agreed to, and the
grandmother laid aside her weapon of defense, and
appeared calm and subdued. The master and his
posse rushed in to seize the girls, and those outside.

A SLAVE-HUNTER OUTWITTED.

17s

ivho could not see into the house, Hstened to hear

t:lie girls' screams of terror and pleadings for mercy

while their master bound them. But they heard

nothing of the kind, only oaths and exclamations

from the men as they searched about the cabin and

up in the loft. The hunters were baffled ; the girls

were not to be found. The darkies seemed in a

good humor, and there was a general display of

^white teeth in broad grins. Some of the white folks

also seemed amused, and inclined to make sport of

the misfortune of the master. It was no laughable

matter to him — to be duped by negroes and to lose

such valuable property as these girls were, either of

ivhom would soon be worth one thousand dollars.

Some in the crowd were unfeeling enough to jest at

his loss, and to advise him to look around and see if

there was not a hole in the ground where the girls

had been let down to the Underground Railroad.

When the master fully realized how he had been
outwitted, his wrath knew no bounds, but his
hired assistants tried to comfort him with the
thought that they could soon ferret out the fugi-
tives, and promised to make a thorough search
through all the abolition neighborhoods.

The girls were taken a short distance on the Win-
chester road ; then through by-ways and cross-roads
they were brought through the Cherry Grove settle-
ment of Friends to Newport, a distance of about
twenty miles. The girls were much exhausted when
they arrived at our house, having had a hard ride,
part of the way in the night. After taking some
nourishment, they were placed in a private room to

176

REMINISCENCES.

rest during the remainder of the night, and were soon
sound asleep. We did not apprehend any danger
that night, as we supposed a vigorous search would
be made at Cabin Creek and neighboring settle-
ments, and that our town would not be searched
till the hunt in the other localities had been pros
ecu ted and proved fruitless.

Some time the next day, a messenger arrived at
my house from Cabin Creek, and told us that after
failing to find the girls at their grandfather's, the
posse of pursuers had divided into several squads to
search the different neighborhoods, and that one
company were on their way to Newport. That
afternoon several strangers were seen rambling
about our village, inquiring for stray horses, and
going abruptly into the houses of colored people
living in the suburbs. It was not difficult to guess
what was their real business. I was busy in my
store when I learned of the conduct of these stran-
gers, but went at once to the house and told my
wife that negro hunters were in town, and that she
must secrete the two girls. She was used to such
business, and was not long in devising a plan.
Taking the two girls, who had by this time been
dressed in female apparel, into a bedroom, she hid
them between the straw tick and feather tick, allow-
ing them room for breathing, then made up the bed
as usual, smoothed the counterpane and put on the
pillows. But the girls were so excited and amused
at the remembrance of how they outwitted massa,
and of their ride, dressed in boys' clothes, and at
their novel position, that they laughed and giggled

A SLAVE-BVNTER OUTWITTED.

177

until my wife had to separate them, and put one in
another bed. I went back to my store and left
Aunt Katy, as every one called my wife, to manage
affairs at the house. If the searchers attempted to
enter our house, she was to rattle the large dinner
bell violently, and at this signal the neighbors would
rush in, and I would get the proper officers and have
the negro hunters arrested for attempting to enter
my house without legal authority. •

But these proceedings were not necessary. The
hunters did not have courage enough to enter my
house, though they knew it was a depot of the Un-
derground Railroad. Hearing that threats were
made against them in the village, they left without
giving us any trouble.

We kept the girls very secluded for several weeks
until the master had given up the search, and gone
home. Then having other fugitives to forward to
the North, we sent them altogether via the Green-
ville and Sandusky route to Canada, where they
arrived in safety.

178 REMIMSCENqfi&

CHAPTER VI.

NEWPORT STORIES CONTINUED — SEVENTEEN FUGITIVE:^

TWO SLAVE GIRLS FROM MARYLAND — ANECDOTE

OF A VISIT TO CINCINNATI — STORY OF LOUIS TAI -
BERT — JOHN WHITE.

THE largest company of slaves ever seated at
our table, at one time, numbered seventeen,
though we often had parties of from ten to fifteen.
The party referred to, arrived at our house about
dawn one morning, having been brought in two
covered wagons from Salem, a settlement of Friends
in Union County. The distance was about thirty
miles, and the journey occupied the most of the
night.

It was an interesting company, consisting of men
and women, all apparently able-bodied and in the
prime of life. They were of different complexions,
varying from light mulatto to coal black, and had
bright and intelligent expressions. They were all
from the same neighborhood, a locality in Kentucky,
some fifteen or twenty miles from the Ohio River,
but belonged to different masters.

For some time they had been planning to escape,
but had kept their own counsels, not venturing tc
divulge their secrets to other slaves. A place of

SE VESTEEN FUG 111 \ 'ES.

rendezvous was agreed upon, and at the appointed
time they repaired to it, carrying small bundles of
tJieir best clothes which they had found opportunity
to carry out previously and hide. One young man,
"^who was engaged to be married, succeeded in get-
ting his intended wife, a beautiful mulatto, from her
master's place, and took her with him. Most of
them had managed to save some money, and they
found this of great service in helping them on their
vray. The leader of the party had made arrange-
ments with a poor white man, living on the bank
of the Ohio River, whom he knew to be trust-
ivorthy. This man owned a wood boat and a skiff,
and promised for the consideration of a liberal sum
of money to have his boat in waiting, on a certain
night, at a secluded point, and to take the party
across the river to a point on the Indiana shore,
some miles above Madison.

At the time appointed, the party succeeded in
getting together, and hastened to the river. Their
white friend was in readiness for them, and landed
them safely on the Indiana shore before daylight.
They hurried into the woods, to find hiding-places
among the hills and in ravines during the day, for
they knew that they would be pursued, and that
their masters would make great efforts to capture
such valuable property.

The next night they left their hiding-places and
moved cautiously northward, not daring to travel in
the road, but making their way through corn-fields
and across plantations. At one time, when they had
just crossed a road and entered a corn-field in the

l8o REMINISCENCES.

river bottom, they heard the sound of horses' feet, in
the road near by. Two or three men, who were
riding ahead of the main party, saw the fugitives and
gave the alarm. The pursuers instantly dismounted
and rushed into the corn-field, but having to climb a
high rail fence they did not gain on the runaways.
The party of fugitives scattered, and fled rapidly
through the wilderness of tall, full-bladed com.
The field they were in was large, and other corn-
fields joined it, lying in the rich river bottom, so
that they had the advantage of shelter all the way.
The pursuers, fifteen or twenty in number, divided
and rushed after them with guns in hand, calling on
them to stop or they would be shot down. Some
of the fugitives recognized the voices of their mas-
ters, but they heeded them not. They ran on with
all their might, each one looking out for himself or
herself. Several shots were fired at them as they
ran, and they heard the bullets whistle through the
corn around them. They outstripped their pursuers,
and ran from one corn-field to another in the bottom
land until they had gone two or three miles. Hear-
ing no sound of their pursuers, they stopped to take
breath and see if all their party were safe.

A few of them had kept in hearing of each other,
and by a low whistle were soon brought together.
More than half the company were still missing.
They moved on, a short distance, very cautiously,
and gave another whistle, which was responded to,
and in a few minutes the young man and his in-
tended wife and two other women joined. They
repeated their whistle, but heard no response.

SEVENTEEN FUGITIVES. j 8 1

About half the company were now together,
including all the women. It was near morning,
and as they did not feel safe in the corn-fields, they
resolved to make their way, if possible, to the woods
among the hills, and hide there during the day.

They succeeded in this attempt, but just as they
were entering the woods they were greatly alarmed
by hearing, a little distance behind them, the report
of several guns, fired in quick succession. They
feared that their missing comrades had fallen into
the hands of the enemy. They hastened forward in
the woods, and concealed themselves in a thicket of
young trees and bushes. Soon after daylight they
were alarmed by hearing the sound of some one
chopping with, an ax near them. They cautiously
reconnoitered,. and found that it was a colored man
chopping wood. One of the party ventured to
approach him, and found him to be friendly. His
house was not far off, but he did not think it safe
to take them to it, as the hunters might come there
to look for them. He conducted them to a safe
hiding-place, and furnished them with food, of which
they were greatly in need. They had lost their
bundles in their flight through the corn-fields, and
^ere thus deprived of their little stock of provision
and spare clothing.

The next night their colored friend conducted
them to a depot of the Underground Railroad, the
Hicklin settlement, where fugitives were always-
kindly received and cared for, and helped on their
way to other stations. Here they remained in con-
cealment during the day, feeling great anxiety about

1 82 REMINISCENCES.

their missing comrades — fearing that they had beer"^'
captured and taken back to slavery. During th^^
day, however, Hicklin, at whose house they were, ^^
learned that there were other fugitives in the vicin- —
ity, among his neighbors who were abolitionists,
and when he went to ascertain the facts concerning "
tht^m he found them to be the comrades of the
party at his house. They had met with a free col
ored man who had conducted them to this neighbor-
hood. Two of them had received gunshot wounds,
which were very painful but not dangerous. Sev-
eral hours after they had evaded the hunters in the
corn-field, and while trying to make their way to the
woods, they had come upon a party of the hunters
who were lying in ambush, having dismounted from
their horses and tied them in the bushes. The
fugitives saw the horses, and instantly comprehend-
ing the situation, they started off at full speed and
ran for life. The pursuers fired at them, but they
did not stop, though one received a number of small
shot in his back and shoulder, and the other was
wounded by a rifle t>all that passed through his
clothes and made a gash several inches long in his
side. They reached the woods and soon distanced
their pursuers, and saw them no more.

The two companies were glad to meet again, and
soon prepared to renew their journey to the North.
Their friends at Hicklin settlement provided two
wagons and transported them to the next station,
and they were hurried on from station to station,
traveling at night and hiding during the day, until
they reached my house, as I have mentioned. On

SEVENTEEN EUr.ITIVES. j g ^

that morning my wife had risen first, and when she
heard the two wagons drive up and stop, she opened
the door. She knew the drivers, who were from
Union County, and who had been at our house on
similar errands before. She spoke to these con-
ductors, and asked: "What have you got there?"
One of them replied : ** All Kentucky."
**Well, bring all Kentucky in," she answered,
then stepped back to our room and told me to get
up, for all Kentucky had come. I sprang up and
dressed quickly, and when I went out, I found the
fugitives all seated in the room, my wife having wel-
comed them and invited them to take chairs and sit
down. I said to one of the conductors :

"The train has brought some valuable looking
passengers this time. How many have you ?"
"Only seventeen this load," he replied.
"Well," I said, "seventeen full-grown darkies
and two able-bodied Hoosiers are about as many as
the cars can bear at one time. Now you may switch
off and put your locomotives in my stable and let
them blow off steam, and we will water and feed
them."

My wife and our hired girl soon had breakfast
prepared for the party, and the seventeen fugitives
were all seated together around a long table in the
dining-room. We assured them that they could
partake of their food without fear of molestation,
for they were now among friends, in a neighborhood
of abolitionists, and a fugitive had never been cap-
tured in our town. Their countenances brightened
at this assurance, and they seemed more at ease.

1 84

REMINISCENCES.

Several of our near neighbors came in to see this
valuable property seated around our table, and esti-
mated that, according to the owners' valuation, they
were worth ;JI 17,000. Two of the company were
still suffering from the wounds they had received.
After breakfast, Dr. Way and Dr. Stanton were in-
vited in to see the wounded fugitives. They took
the two men to their office near by and examined
them. They extracted a number of small shot from
the back and shoulders of one, then dressed his
wounds and the wound of the other, who had been
struck by a rifle ball. The men then seemed com-
fortable, and were very thankful for this kind treat-
ment.

This interesting company of fugitives remained
two days at my house to rest and prepare for their
journey northward. Having lost their bundles of
clothing, as mentioned, many of them were in need
of garments and shoes. These were furnished to
them, and when all were made comfortable, I ar-
ranged for teams and suitable conductors to take
them on to the next station. It was decided, for
greater safety, to forward them via the Mississineway
route, though that was not the most direct line to
Canada. When all necessary arrangements were
made, the fugitives left my house shortly after dark
in two wagons drawn by good teams, and accom-
panied by suitable conductors. The station they
were directed to reach that night was the house of
John Bond, a well-known friend to the slave, who
lived in a Friends' settlement on Cabin Creek. The
distance was something over twenty miles, and as

SEVENTEEN FVOITIVES.

185

the road was new and rough, it would take them the
most of the night to reach the station. The con-
ductors returned the next day with the teams, say-
ing they had arrived safely with the fugitives at the
station and left them there. Early the next morn-
ing, after the fugitives had left my house, a messen-
ger, who had been sent by Aquilla Jones, of Rich-
mond, arrived at my house, and informed me that
fifteen Kentuckians, in search of fugitive slaves, had
come to Richmond the night before, and were stop-
ping at the hotel of one L B , who was a

well-known friend to the slave-hunter. Aquilla
Jones did not know of any fugitives passing re-
cently, but supposed that if there were any in the
neighborhood I would be likely to know it. I
immediately started a messenger on horseback to
overtake the party of fugitives, and to have them
scattered and secreted among their friends, thus to
remain until further orders. Expecting that the
fugitives were still at John Bond's, I wrote a note
to him apprising him of their danger, but they had
been forwarded that morning to a Friends' settle-
ment in Grant County, some twenty-five or thirty
miles further on. The intervening country being
thinly settled, it had been thought safe to let them
travel in the daytime.

On receipt of my message, John Bond mounted
his horse and pursued the party. He overtook
them that night, and had them scattered and con-
cealed among friends. They remained in their
hiding-places for several weeks, until the hunters
had given up the chase and returned home; then

1 86 REMINISCENCES,

they came together again, and were forwarded on
from station to station, by way of Adrian and De*
troit, Michigan, until they reached Canada in safety.
On their way they rested a few days in a settlement
of abolitionists not far from Adrian, and here the
young man and his intended wife, whom I have pre-
viously mentioned, were legally married. A few
years afterward I had the pleasure of visiting them
in Canada, and dining with them in their own com-
fortable little home. They had a beautiful son,
about a year old, and proudly said: '*We can call
him our own ; old master can not take him from us
and sell him."

We will now turn back and notice the proceed-
ings of the bloodhounds in human shape who were
on the trail of the fugitives. The morning after the
fifteen Kentuckians arrived at Richmond, they em-
ployed several roughs of that place to accompany
them as guides.' These roughs were always ready
to help capture fugitives, for the sake of money,
and professed to know all the abolitionist neighbor-
hoods toward the North.

The Kentuckians divided into three companies,
each having a guide. One company was to go by
the way of Hillsboro and Spartansburg, another by
way of Williamsburg and Economy, and the third
through Newport and Cherry Grove. They hoped
in this way to strike the trail of the fugitives, and
arranged to meet at Winchester, the county scat of
Randolph County, and give an account of their
search. The party that was to come by way of
Newport, came through town one or two at a time,

SEVENTEEN FUGITIVES.

187

some distance apart, so as to avoid exciting sus-
picion in regard to their business. When they met
children in the street, they inquired if any stray
horses or cattle had been seen, and then asked if
an}' fugitive slaves had been in town lately. In
thi-5 way they learned that a large company of fugi-
tives had been at my house a few days before, but
that they had gone on to Canada.

The three companies met at Winchester according
to agreement, but no discoveries had been made
except by the company that passed through New-
port. It was now decided that two of the companies
should follow up the supposed line of the Under-
ground Railroad to the lake, and watch for the
fugitives at the points where they would be most
likely to pass over to Canada. The guides pro-
fessed to understand the route and to know the
places where the fugitives would most likely be har-
bored. The third company, with some additional
guides from Winchester, were to canvass the differ-
ent settlements of Friends in that neighborhood and
around Newport, in the hope of gaining some clue
to the fugitives, if they were still sheltered among
the abolitionists there. They were told by some
-who were favorable to their cause, that it was quite
probable that Levi Coffin, the notorious nigger thief
of Newport, had got intelligence of their move-
ments, and had hid their slaves among some of his
friends in the neighborhood, for he had many friends
there no better than himself, and there were many
in Richmond who would give him warning of pur-
suers. This part of the company, after an unsuc-

J 88 REMINISCENCES.

ccssful search through the various neighborhoods,
returned to Richmond, stopping on the way at a
tavern three miles north of Newport. Here they
uttered many threats against me, declaring they
would hang me or shoot me, and burn my houses.
The tavern-keeper was friendly toward me, though
he did not believe in aiding runaway slaves, and he
felt alarmed for my safety. After the hunters were
gone, he mounted his horse and came to see me and
warn me of my danger. He advised me to keep
closely at home, not to venture out alone lest my
enemies should take my life. I thanked him for his
kindness, but told him that I felt no fear of danger.
I had obeyed the commands of the Bible, and the
dictates of humanity, in feeding the hungry, clothing
the naked, and aiding the oppressed, and I felt no
condemnation for it. I should go about my busi-
ness as usual, and if duty called me from home, I
should pay no attention to the threats of slave-
hunters, but attend to my duty.

The hunters made their headquarters at L

B *s tavern in Richmond, while awaiting the

return of their companions from the lakes. They
were not idle in the meantime, but made frequent
night raids through our neighborhood and other set-
tlements of abolitionists, supposing that their slaves
might still be harbored among us.

One evening, in company with several roughs of
Richmond, they started toward Newport, making
terrible threats against me. They would burn mc
out, if it cost them ten thousand dollars ; they
would shoot me down at sight or drag me into the

SEVENTEEN FUGITIVES.

189

woods and hang me to a limb, etc., etc. These
threats were made publicly, and one of my friends
who heard them became much alarmed for my
safety. He mounted his horse and rode to New-
port to give me warning. He arrived at my house
about midnight, when all of us were asleep. He
knocked loudly at the door, and when I arose and
let him in, he repeated in an excited manner the
threats he had heard, and seemed much alarmed. I
thanked him for the interest he manifested in my
welfare, and told him to make himself entirely easy,
for I anticipated not the slightest disturbance. Ac-
cording to the old proverb, I said barking dogs
never bite, and if these men intended to do such
terrible things to me, they would not have told of it
publicly. I discovered that he had a couple of
loaded revolvers with him, and told him to put them
away, for I did not want such weapons ; I did not
depend on fire-arms for protection. He said he
thought he might come in contact with the slave-
hunters on the way, and would need these to defend
himself with. I had his horse put up, and per-
suaded him to go to rest. When morning came,
my buildings were all standing, there was no smell
of fire about the premises, I was not hanging to a
tree, and my friend had found no use for his revol-
vers.

The hunters, who had gone northward toward the
lakes, returned without having obtained any clue to
their valuable missing property. They remained at
Richmond a few days, then the whole party returned
South. But before going, they conferred upon me

ipo

REMINISCENCES.

a high honor. They said that they could never get
the slightest intelligence of their slaves after they
reached my house, and declared that there must be
an Underground Railroad, of which I was president.
They repeated this several times in Richmond, and
I heard of it when next I went to attend the board
of bank directors at that place.

Some of my friends asked me if I had heard of
my promotion to office, and when I said I had not,
they told me what the Kentuckians had said. I
replied that I would accept that position or any
other they were disposed to give me on that road —
conductor, engineer, fireman or brakcman. This
was the first time I ever heard of the Underground
Railroad.

The saying of the Kentuckians soon became
widely circulated, and I frequently received letters .
addressed to "Levi Coffin, President of the Under-
ground Railroad." I had the honor of wearing
that title for mor^ than thirty years, and it was not
until the great celebration of the Fifteenth Amend-
ment to the Constitution, by the colored people at
Cincinnati, that I resigned the office, and laid aside
the name conferred on me by Southern slave-hunt-
ers. On that occasion I said that our underground
work was done, and that as we had no more use for
the road, I would suggest that the rails be taken up
and disposed of, and the proceeds appropriated for
the education of the freed slaves.

A few weeks after the Kentucky slave-hunters
had left Richmond, I was summoned, with sever$il
of my neighbors, to appear before the grand jury

SEVENTEEN FUGITIVES. jgi

at Centerville, the county seat of our county, where
court was then in session. I at once guessed the

cause of the summons. Knowing that L B ,

of Richmond, was one of the grand jurors, I sup-
posed that he was acting in the interests of the
slave-hunters who had recently made their head-
quarters at his house, and that I was to be indicted
for harboring fugitive slaves, while my neighbors
were summoned as witnesses. Though almost sure
that this was the case, I felt no alarm. I thought
that if the grand jury should find a bill against me,
and I should be compelled to stand a trial in court,
and be convicted of a violation of the fugitive slave
law, and have to suffer the penalty, it might be the
means of advancing the anti-slavery cause, and of
raising up other friends for the slave. Some of the
ablest lawyers of that district were my friends, and I
knew that I would have plenty of defenders. These
were some of my reflections as I rode to Centerville,
a distance of eleven miles, in company with Daniel
Puckett, Dr. Henry H. Way, Samuel Nixon, and
Robert Green, who had been summoned to appear
with me before the grand jury. When I entered
the court-room I discovered that I was personally
acquainted with a majority of the jurors, and knew
some of them to be strongly anti-slavery in their
sentiments. Bloomfield, of Centerville, was fore-
man of the jury. He asked me whether I knew of
any violations of the law in our neighborhood within
a certain time, any cases of assault and battery, or
other outbreaks. I told him that I knew of nothing
of the kind, adding that we were nearly all aboli-

, Q2 REMINISCENCES.

tioiiists, and were a peaceable people. The foreman
then turned to L B , and said:

*^ Mr. B , I beHeve that it is you who are in-
terested in the nejjro question. If you wish to a.sk
Mr. Coffin any questions, you can proceed."

L B then asked me if I understood the

statute in regard to harboring fugitive slaves. I told
him that I had read it, but did not know whether I
understood it or not. I suggested that he turn to it
and read it, which he did. I told him that I knew
of no violation of that statute in our neighborhood.
Persons often traveled our way and stopped at our
house who said they were slaves, but I knew noth-
ing about it from their statements, for our law did
not presume that such people could tell the truth.
This made a laugh among the jury, with the excep-
tion of L B . I went on to say that a few

weeks before a company of seventeen fugitives had
stopped at my house, hungry and destitute, two of
them suffering from wounds inflicted by pursuers
who claimed them as slaves, but I had no legal
evidence that they were slaves ; nothing but their
own statements, and the law of our State did not
admit colored evidence. I had read in the Bible
when I was a boy that it was right to feed the hun-
gry and clothe the naked, and to minister to those
who had fallen among thieves and were wounded,
but that no distinction in regard to color was men-
tioned in the good Book, so in accordance with its
teachings I had received these fugitives and cared
for them. I then asked :

"Was I right, Friend B , in doing so?"

THE GRAND JURY, 1^3

He hesitated and seemed at a loss how to reply.
I continued: "How does thy Bible read? Was it
not as I have said?"

** Yes," he answered, "it reads somehow so."

He evidently wished to change the subject. He
next asked me if I understood the statute in regard
to hiring free colored people who had not given
bond and security, as the law required, that they
would not come upon the county for support. I told
him that I had read it, but, perhaps, did not under-
stand it, and requested him to turn to it and read it.
He did so, and I then said : "I presume I am guilty
of violating that statute, for I am in the habit of
hiring service whenever I need it, without distinc-
tion of color, and without asking any questions in
regard to that law."

One of the jury asked me if I knew of any case
in the county where the requirements of that statute
had been fulfilled.

I replied: "No, not one. It appears to be a dead
letter in this part of the State, and many of our
best lawyers believe it to be an unconstitutional act
of the Legislature."

The foreman then said: "Mr. B , I believe

Mr. Coffin understands the negro law about as well
as you do. If you are through asking questions, he
need not be detained."

"I have no further questions to ask him."

As I was retiring I said : "I do not know whether

I understand the law as well as Friend B does ;

but I know that I have more to do with aiding the

IgA REMINISCENCES.

fugitives and less to do with aiding their pursuers,
than he has/'

Dr. Henry H. Way was then called in. L

B questioned him in regard to the party of

seventeen fugitives, and asked him at whose house
they had stopped in Newport.

"At Levi Coffin's," the doctor replied, and in
answer to questions gave a full description of them ;
adding that he and Dr. Stanton had dressed the
wounds of the two men who had been shot.

B asked: **Did you know that they were

slaves, escaping from their masters ?"

The doctor replied : * * We had no evidence except
their own statements. They said they were slaves
from Kentucky, but their evidence is worthless in
law in this State.'*

Here they got into an argument in regard to law,

in which the doctor completely confounded B .

The foreman finally interfered, told B that he

was wrong, and dismissed the doctor. The other
witnesses were called in and questioned, but their
testimony all amounted to the same thing, showing
that the fugitives had been sheltered at my house
for several days, and that anybody who wished to
see them had access to them. Notwithstanding

B 's attempt to implicate me, the jury found no

bill against me.

Anti-slavery sentiment had largely increased in

our county, and this effort of B 's to indict me

for harboring fugitive slaves soon became widely
known and had a tendency to kill him politically.

TWO SLAVE OIRLS RESCUED.

195

TWO SLAVE GIRLS PROM MARYLAND.

The laws of Indiana, Illinois and Ohio allowed
persons from a slave State to pass through with
their slaves if they did not stop to locate. If they
made any purchases amounting to location, the
slaves were to be considered free.

The following' case came under this law : Two
brothers from Maryland, by the name of Dawes,
each accompanied by his family and one slave girl,
were traveling through Indiana on their way to the
State of Missouri, when the illness of the wife of
Elisha Dawes, the elder brother, compelled them to
stop for-a time near Winchester, Randolph County,
Indiana. During their stay at that place, they
decided to locate there and to buy a tan-yard which
was for sale at Winchester, at a great bargain ; they
being tanners by trade. The terms were agreed
upon and were satisfactory to both paties, but before
the writings were drawn or the bargain closed, the
thought occurred to the Dawes brothers that if they
located in Indiana they would lose their slaves ; they
could not hold them in a free State. This would
be a heavy loss to them, as the girls were valuable
property, the one belonging to the elder brother
being nearly grown, and the other about fourteen
years old. They knew not what to do, and con-
sulted with the man with whom they were stop-
ping, who was pro-slavery in his sentiments. He
advised them not to close the contract for the prop-
erty until they had disposed of the slave girls, then
the money thus obtained would give them a good

196

REMINISCENCES,

Start in business. In accordance with his advice,
they concluded to take the girls to Kentucky by
way of Cincinnati, sell them there, and with the
money obtained from their sale, buy a quantity of
hides in Cincinnati, then return to Winchester and
close the contract for the property. Their friend
and adviser agreed to go with them and aid them in
disposing of their slaves and purchasing stock. But
notwithstanding all their wise precautions they made
one serious mistake. They contracted for a lot of
tan-bark and for some household furniture, which in
the sight of the law amounted to location, and the
moment they did so the slaves were free. When
ready to go to Cincinnati, they fitted up a light cov-
ered wagon, drawn by two horses, and taking the
two slave girls and their friend, they started from
Winchester in the middle of the day, and passed
through Newport between sunset and dark. The
slaves were out of sight behind the hay in the back
part of the wagon, and were not noticed by any one
as the party passed hastily through our village.
They were hardly out of sight when Dr. Hiatt, an
abolitionist from the neighborhood of Winchester,
arrived at my house. He understood the whole mat-
ter, and knew that the men violated the law of the
State in taking the two girls out of it to sell them as
slaves. When he learned that they had started to
Kentucky, he had mounted his horse and followed
them, hoping to reach Newport before they did, and
have them arrested as kidnappers. He had not sup-
posed that they would reach Newport that night, but
they had driven rapidly, and he had not succeeded in

Tiro SLA VE OIRLS RESCUED. 1^7

getting ahead of them. We at once called a meet-
ing in our school-house, and by ringing the bell
and sending out runners, we soon had most of the
citizens convened. Esquire Curtis presided at the
meeting. Dr. Hiatt gave the outlines of the story,
and as he had in writing all the particulars of the
purchases which the men had made near Winches-
ter, he was able to prove that they had violated
the law of the State and should be arrested as kid-
nappers. But there was no time to delay ; if any-
thing was to be done to save the girls, it must be
done at once. The masters had only eleven miles
to travel until they would be out of the State. The
questions to be immediately considered were : Who
will file an affidavit and procure a writ ? Who will
pursue the men to-night, arrest them as kidnappers,
and bring them before Esquire Curtis for trial?

There were no volunteers in the meeting, so I
suggested the names of two or three persons who
would be suitable to go ; but they declined. My
name was then suggested. I said: '*Yes, I ex-
pected to have it to do from the first, but I wanted
to see if any others were willing." I at once filed
an affidavit before Esquire Curtis, and he issued a
writ and placed it in the hands of John Hunt, who
was the constable.

It was now after night and quite dark, and rain
was beginning to fall. The constable summoned his
posse before leaving the school-house — ten able-
bodied, resolute men, making, with himself and me,
twelve men in the company. We had to go home
and get our suppers, saddle our horses and prepare

jpg REMINISCENCES,

for traveling in the rain ; and it was ten o'clock
when we Were all mounted and ready to start. The
constable and I led the way. It was quite dark, the
rain was falling heavily and the mud in the road was
deep ; so our progress was necessarily slow.

After riding about two hours, we discovered the
white cover of the travelers' wagon which was stand-
ing in the yard of a farm-house, about a hundred
yards from the road. We rode up the short lane
that led to the house, and calling out the man of
the house explained our business to him; then
leaving the others outside, the constable and I
went inside and arrested the two slaveholders,
who were in bed. They were naturally much sur-
prised at being thus disturbed in the middle of the
night, and when they learned the reason, they were
very angry and used oaths and hard names quite
freely.

The two slave girls were lying on a pallet on the
floor, in the same room. They knew not what to
think of being thus aroused, but I spoke to them
reassuringly, and told them not to be alarmed.
Elisha Dawes seeing me speak to them, ordered
them not to say a word. I paid no attention to
him, but told them they were in a free State, and
were now free according to the law of the State,
and that they need not be afraid to speak. I assured
them that we would protect them and see that they
were not sold into slavery.

The constable told the men that they were his
prisoners, and must go back with us to Newport for
trial. They reluctantly obeyed his orders, leaving

TWO SLAVE OIRLS RESCUED. igg

their friend from Winchester and two of our men to
bring the wagon and the two girls next morning.
It had now ceased raining, and the moon had risen
and gave a dim light. As we rode back to Newport
with the two slaveholders, one of them said:

'* I would like to see the man who filed that affi-
davit; I would put daylight through him."

I rode up by his side, and said : '* If it will afford
thee any satisfaction to see that person, look at me ;
I am the man. But it is not I that you have to con-
tend with; it is the State of Indiana. You have
violated the law of the State by attempting to take
your slaves out of the State after making purchases
that amounted to location. We are able to prove
this. The moment you made the contract at Win-
chester, the girls were free, and now, in the sight
of the law, you are kidnappers carrying off free
persons to sell them into slavery. The lightest pen-
alty for this is five hundred dollars* fine and two
years' imprisonment in the penitentiary. You shall
have a fair trial ; nothing will be done unfairly. The
case will come up before court, where you will have
the benefit of counsel and jury. There will be a
preliminary hearing before Esquire Curtis at New-
port, and he will no doubt bind you over to appear
in court.**

After hearing these statements, the slaveholders
ceased their abusive language. They appeared to
be alarmed at the serious aspect of the case, and
were more subdued and friendly in their manners.
When we reached Newport, I took them to my
house and had their horses put in my stable. Next

2CX) REMINISCENCES,

morning, when the two slave girls were brought to
town I gave them quarters at my house, and enter-
tained the whole company two days free of charge.
I treated the men as kindly as I could, and sought
to make their position as prisoners as pleasant
as possible. They desired to send to Winchester
for witnesses, having a brother-in-law and some
others in their company whom they wished to
be present at the trial, and I sent a messenger to
bring these persons. I also sent to Center\'ille for
a lawyer, Abner Haines, now Judge Haines, of
Eaton, Ohio. It was on account of sending for
these persons that the trial was postponed until the
second day. Just before the hour set for trial. Law-
yer Haines read to the two prisoners the law bearing
on their case, and cited several instances of a simi-
lar kind that had been tried in court, resulting in the
conviction of the defendants. He told them that
the very moment they had made purchases prepar-
atory to location their slaves were free, and that
their attempt to take the two girls out of the State
and sell them amounted to kidnapping ; and assured
them that if prosecuted they could not escape con-
viction and the penalty for that offense.

They were much alarmed at this and wished to
compromise with me, in some way, that I might not
appear against them, or carry the case into court.
They offered to give up the slave girls to me if I
would not appear against them. I told them that I
would consent to this on one condition, and that
was that they should make out papers of emancipa-
tion for the girls. This they agreed to do, and Law-

TWO SLAVE OIRLS RESCUED. 201

yer Haines wrote out the papers at once, and they
were signed and acknowledged before Esquire Cur-
tis. The slave girls were then given into my care,
and the prisoners discharged.

Before starting back to Winchester, Elisha Dawes
asked me to let him take his girl; — the oldest one —
home with him as a nurse for his child. He prom-
ised to treat her well, and said he did not know how
his wife, who had a young child, could do without
her. I asked him why he did not think of that be-
fore he started to sell the girl, and said that now I
could not trust her with him. So the two girls were
left at our house, and the men returned to Winches-
ter. I sent the girls to school, and had the care
and oversight of them for several years. The older
of the two married a respectable colored man, and
is still living. The younger went to Canada of her
own choice, and died there a few years afterward.

The Dawes brothers located at Winchester, and
being told by some of their pro-slavery friends that
I had scared them out of their slaves, and being
assured that the whole proceedings were illegal and
could be upset in law, they became very much dis-
satisfied. They were much enraged at me, and
made so many threats against me, that some of my
friends advised me not to go to Winchester for some
time, lest I should meet with harm. I replied that
I often had business at Winchester, and that when
it called me there I should not stay away on account
of the threats of the Dawes brothers. They finally
resolved to prosecute me, and went to Centerville
to employ some of our best lawyers, but did not

202 REMINISCENVRS,

succeed in getting any one to undertake the case.
A few weeks after their return to Winchester, my
business called me to that place, and the first person
I saw after dismounting from my horse was EHsha
Dawes, who happened to be on the street. I walked
straight up to him and shook hands with him, and
inquired after the health of his family. He appeared
quite cordial in his manner. I often m^t him and
his brother afterward, and kept up a friendly ac-
quaintance with them for several years. At one
time when I met with Elisha Dawes, he told me
that his father, who lived in Maryland, and who was
anti-slavery in sentiment, was quite rejoiced that the
slave girls had been taken away from them.

ANECDOTE OF A VISIT TO CINCINNATI.

While living at Newport I often went to Cincin-
nati on business, and on one occasion when my wife
and little daughter were with me, a free mulatto
woman and her fugitive slave daughter — nearly
white — were put in my charge. I took them back
to Newport in my carriage, stopping on the way at
a tavern near Hamilton. At supper the landlord
seated us all at the table, except the mulatto wo-
man, who, he intended, should eat with the colored
servants. After the meal was over, I told him that
he was quite partial, to admit a slave to the public
table and exclude a free woman. He was much
astonished and could not believe that the girl was a
slave.

'*Why," he said; "she is white, perfectly white."
**That may be," I replied; **but she is neverthe-

HID IN A STRA W PILK 203

less a slave. Color is no protection in the South."
The landlord then acknowledged the inconsist-
ency of his conduct, and we enjoyed the joke very
much.

At another time when I was in the city accom-
panied by my wife and daughter, Hiram S. Gillmore,
a noted abolitionist and one of my particular friends,
asked me. if I knew of any person in from the
country with a wagon who would take a fugitive
slave girl out to a place of safety. He then gave
me the outlines of her story. She had come from
Boone County, Kentucky, having run away because
she learned that she was to be sold to the far South.
Knowing that she would be pursued and probably
retaken if she started northward immediately, she
conceived a plan like that adopted by Cassie and Em-
meline when they ran away from Legree, in ** Uncle
Tom's Cabin." She hid herself in the interior of
a large straw pile near her master's barn, having
previously arranged apertures for air, and a winding
passage with concealed entrance, by which her fel-
low-servants who brought her food could enter.
Here she remained six weeks, while her master with
a posse of men scoured the country in search of her.
Like Cassie who looked from her hiding-place in the
garret, and heard the discomfited Legree swearing
at his ill luck as he returned from the unsuccessful
pursuit, this young woman could hear in her hiding-
place, in the straw pile, the noise of horses' feet and
the sound of talking, as her master and his men
returned from their fruitless search for her. When
the hunt was over, she stole out and made her way

204 REMINISCENCES.

safely to the Ohio River, crossed in a skiff and
reached the house of a family of abolitionists in
Cincinnati, where she was kindly received, and fur-
nished with comfortable clothing.

In answer to the inquiry of Hiram S. Gillmore, I
replied that I was there in a carriage, and would
take her out, if she would be ready when I called
for her at nine o'clock next morning. At the ap-
pointed time we started. The young slave woman
was nearly white, was well dressed, and presented
quite a lady-like appearance.

At the end of the first day's travel, we stopped
about four miles above Hamilton, at a private house,
the residence of one of my friends — a democrat, by
the way — who had often invited me to call at his
house, with my wife, and pay his family a visit.
The gentleman's daughter ran out to meet us, and I
said to her: *'WelI, Ellen, I have brought my wife
with me this time ; now guess which of these ladies
she is."

She looked from one to the other, hardly able
to decide, but, finally, judging perhaps from the
Quaker bonnet my wife wore, decided on the right
one. The gentleman and his wife now came out to
meet us, and when I introduced the young lady
with us as a fugitive slave, they were full of sur-
prise and curiosity, having never seen a fugitive
slave before.

I told them her story, and then said to my friend :
•'Will she be safe here to-night, Thomas?"

**I reckon so," was the reply.

**I don't want any reckon about it," I rejoined;

A FUGITIVE AT A QUAKER MEETING. 205

•*I shall put her in thy care, and I don't want
thee to let anybody capture her." She was kindly
treated.

Next morning — it being the Sabbath day — we
went on about eight miles to West Elkton, a
Friends* settlement, to attend meeting and spend
the day. Meeting had just commenced when we
arrived. My wife took the fugitive into meeting
with her and seated her by her side. This was the
first time the girl had ever attended a Quaker meet-
ing. At its close I introduced her to a number of
our friends, as a run away slave from Kentucky.
She was the first that had been seen at that place,
and a mysterious influence seemed to invest her at
once. Men lowered their voices as if in awe, when
they inquired about her, and some of them seemed
alarmed, as if there was danger in the very air that
a fugitive slave breathed. I spoke in a loud, cheer-
ful tone and asked: **Why do you lower your
voices ? Are you afraid of anything ? Have you
bloodhounds among you ? If so, you ought to
drive them out of your village." We stopped at
the house of Widow Stubbs, a thorough abolitionist,
and soon afterward one of her near neighbors, a
man with whom I was well acquainted, came in to
inquire concerning the girl.

He asked if she was safe, whether she had not
better be secreted, etc., all the time speaking in a
low tone. I said: *'What is the matter, Henry?
What makes thee speak so cautiously ? Is there any
one in your village who would capture a fugitive
blave? If there is, hunt him up and bring him here.

2o6 REMINISCENCES.

I would like to see him and to introduce this young
lady to him. I think we could make an abolitionist
of him. For my part, I have no fears of any one
in this village, and think thou may make thyself
quite easy."

In the course of the afternoon quite a number of
people came in who seemed concerned in a similar
manner for the safety of the girl, but seeing me so
entirely at ease, their fear and anxiety passed away.

This public exposition of a fugitive slave, at
Friends' meeting and in the village seemed to
have a good effect in the place, for West Elkton
afterward became one of our best Underground
Railroad depots, and the timid man first alluded to
became one of the most zealous workers on the
road.

A STRUGGLE FOR LIBERTY.

Louis Talbert was an intelligent colored man, who
belonged to a slaveholder living in Kentucky, a few
miles back of the Ohio River, above Madison.
Louis was not content with being a chattel that
could be bought and sold, but kept planning how
he might gain his freedom. For several years he
had quietly and shrewdly been gaining all the in-
formation he could in regard to that land of liberty
he had heard of so often, and at last concluded to
make the attempt to reach it. He ventured to
divulge his. secret to several of his trusty friends
and fellow-servants in the neighborhood, and twelve
of them agreed to join him in the attempt to gain
freedom. They met frequently, late at night, in the
woods or some other secluded place in the neigh-

A ZEALOUS CONDUCTOR.

207

borhood, to consult together and to make their
plans. The chief difficulty that 'they would "have to
encounter in their journey was the Ohio River-^
they had no way of crossing it, and knew not what
to do. Finally, Louis Talbert, who was the leading
spirit among them, suggested the construction of a
raft. This at once solved the problem, and the time
to start was agreed upon. On the appointed night
the party made their way to a point on the river
bank, selected by Louis. Having some suitable
tools with them, they soon prepared two logs and
pinned them together. When the little raft was
launched upon the water, it was found that only two
persons could ride on it at a time. Their expecta-
tions of all getting across that night were disap-
pointed, for it was late when they reached the river,
and only six had been transported to the Indiana
shore when daylight warned the party to seek con-
cealment. They hid in the thickets, on each side
of the river, during the day, and when night came
the remaining six were safely ferried across. But
this delay operated against them, and came near
proving fatal to their hopes. When so much valu-
able property was found to be missing in the neigh-
borhood they had left, it created great excitement
among their masters and other slaveholders. A
large company started out to hunt for the runaways,
and crossed the river at various points, in order, if
possible, to intercept them in their flight. The
second night, when all the fugitives were safely over
the river, they started on their way northward
through Indiana. They made but little progress

2o8 REMINISCENCES.

before day began to dawn, and soon had to seek
places in the bushes, where they could remain in
safety during the day. By this time, some of the
hunters had got ahead of them, and had given the
alarm, and offered large rewards for their capture.
In the counties of Indiana bordering the Ohio River,
fugitive slaves were in as much danger of being cap-
tured as on the other side of the river, for there
were many persons on the look-out for them who
hoped to get the rewards offered by the slaveholders
in such cases.

The next night Louis and his companions left
their hiding-places, but being pinched with hunger,
they sought to obtain some food before starting on
their journey northward. They went to a house to
buy some provisions, not thinking that they were in
great danger. But a large party of hunters were in
the neighborhood, and were soon apprised of their
presence. The fugitives were closely pursued by a
large party of armed men, the party from Kentucky
having been joined by a number of ruffians in the
neighborhood, who were as eager in the chase as
they would have been in a fox or a deer hunt.
Louis and his companions ran in different directions,
and endeavored to hide in the woods and corn-fields,
but most of the party were captured, only Louis
and three others succeeding in making their escape.
After traveling several nights, during which time
they suffered much from hunger and exposure, they
reached my house. We received and cared for
them, and they remained with us several days, rest-
ing from their fatiguing and anxious journey. They

A ZEALOUS CONPUCTOR. 200

were then put on the old reliable road leading to
Canada, and reached that country in safety.

Louis remained there about one year, then re-
turned to Indiana, and staid a few days at my
house. He said he was on his way back to Ken-
tucky. He had two sisters still in bondage, and was
determined to make an effort to bring them away.
They belonged to a man living about thirty miles
back from the river. Louis felt much anxiety about
them, as they were young women grown and were
regarded as valuable property by their master. He
feared that they would be sold to traders and taken
to the far South, as such property was in demand
and would bring high prices. I tried to dissuade
Louis from such a hazardous undertaking. I told
him that he would risk his own liberty and might
not be able to effect thq rescue of his sisters, but he
was determined to go. He was well acquainted in
that neighborhood with both colored and white peo-
ple, and, relying on his shrewdness and judgment,
he made the bold venture. After crossing the
river into Kentucky, he moved cautiously in the
night season from one negro quarter to another
where he was acquainted. He encouraged several
of his particular friends to join him and prepare to
make the journey to Canada. He assured them
that he was well acquainted with the route and could
conduct them safely, and told them of the many
good friends they would find on the road who would
help them on their way to liberty. The sweet word
of liberty, and the hope of all its blessings and
privileges, thrilled their hearts, and they at once

2 1 o REMINJSCENVES.

agreed to make the effort to gain it under the lead-
ership of Louis. The plans were all made, both
men and women being in the party who were to at-
tempt to escape.

Louis went several nights to the place where his
sisters were, and watched about the house, trying
to get an interview with them, but they were house-
servants, and were kept in at night so closely that
it seemed impossible for him to make himself known
to them and talk with them without discovery.

One moonlight night as he was watching the
house, trying to attract the attention of his sisters,
their master saw and recognized him. The signal
for pursuit was at once given and the alarm raised.
A neighbor who had several bloodhounds was sum-
moned, and the dogs were put on the trail. By this
time, however, Louis had reached the woods, and
being well acquainted with the country, he knew
how to choose the paths that would be most difficult
for the pursuers. Louis knew how to charm the
dogs, and he received no harm from them.

He baffled his pursuers and made good his escape,
bringing with him four or five of his slave friends,
including two women. Thus, though he failed to
get his sisters, his mission was not entirely unsuc-
cessful. He made his way to the Ohio River with
his company, and finding a skiff they crossed in
safety to the Indiana side. They then proceeded as
rapidly as possible to a station of the Underground
Railroad, and that line soon brought them to my
house. They remained with us a short time, and
were then forwarded to Canada.

A ZEALOUS CfOND UCTOR, 2 1 1

After seeing his friends safe in that country, Louis
returned to Indiana and attended school at a manual
labor institution, in Randolph County, called the
Union Literary Institute. It was chartered by the
State of Indiana for the benefit of colored students.
Louis remained here nearly two years, making satis-
factory progress in his studies and gaining the
esteem of all who knew him. During vacation in
the first year he made a second attempt to rescue
his sisters from slavery, but was again unsuccessful
in getting them, though he succeeded in bringing
out of bondage another company of his friends.
He still did not abandon the hope of rescuing his
sisters.

At the school which he attended, Louis became
acquainted with M. W., a young white man who
lived in Hamilton County, Indiana. To him Louis
communicated his resolve to make another effort to
get his sisters out of slavery. M. W. became so
much interested in the matter that he agreed to
accompany Louis on his next trip into Kentucky.

Some months afterward Louis went to Westfield,
Hamilton County. He was then on his way to
Kentucky to make another attempt, and reminded
his friend of his promise, but M. W. had just been
married and declined to go. He directed Louis to
the house of L. Pennington, who lived in the neigh-
borhood. This Friend tried to discourage Louis
from making the attempt ; telling him that he would
risk his own liberty and might not achieve that of
his sisters. But Louis was determined to go, and
made a confidant of a young man by the name of

2 1 2 EEMJMSCENCE&

N. W., who was interested in his case and who
agreed to accompany him. They made all their
plans and appointed the time for starting. They
were to take the train at Indianapolis and go to
Madison, then cross into Kentucky and proceed
secretly on their mission. These arrangements were
made a week or two before the time fixed for start-
ing, and might have been successful had not N. W.,
in the meantime, unwisely made a confidant of one
of his acquaintances at Indianapolis, telling him all
the particulars of the case. This friend in turn con-
fided the whole matter to another person living in
Indianapolis, who knew Louis' master in Kentucky,
and who immediately wrote to him, giving all the
particulars, and telling him the day and hour that
Louis intended to take the train at Indianapolis for
Madison.

Louis' master, as soon as he received this informa-
tion, gathered a posse of men and started to Indian-
apolis, arriving there the night before Louis was to
start South. He obtained a writ for arresting his
slave and put it in the hands of an officer, then, with
the witnesses who were to prove his property, he
waited to capture Louis as soon as he should come
into the depot.

The next morning Louis, who was all unconscious
of the danger he was going into, walked into the
depot to get aboard the train and found himself con-
fronted by his master. He could not save himself,
either by resistance or flight, and soon found him-
self heavily fettered. N. W., who was to accom-
pany him, was a short distance behind, but seeing

BETRAYED AND CAPTURED,

213

the excited crowd in the depot and learning that
Louis had been captured, he turned back and went
immediately home and told the news to Louis'
friends.

Louis' master said to him: "I would have paid
any price to get hold of you, and now that you are
in my power, I will make an example of you. You
have carried off thirty-seven thousand dollars* worth
of slave property."

Louis had been a very successful missionary
among the slaves in Kentucky. Beside bringing a
number out of the house of bondage, he had directed
others how to get on the Underground Railroad and
go right through to Canada where they would be
free. They had listened with deep interest to his
stories of Canada and liberty, and frequent stam-
pedes of slaves from that part of Kentucky was the
result.

Louis' master took him back to Kentucky strong-
ly bound, and exhibited him in fetters in many
towns and public places in that section of the
country, in order, as he said, to make an example
of him, and to intimidate other slaves who might
have thoughts of running away. But the master
soon found that he had a troublesome piece of
property on his hands. He did not dare to turn
Louis loose and set him to work, for he might stray
off and take a good deal of valuable property with
him, of his own kind. He kept him bound for
several weeks, waiting for a favorable opportunity
to sell him, and finally disposed of him to a South-
ern slave-dealer for the sum of seven hundred dol-

2 1 4 REMIMSCENCES.

lars. This was considered a low price, but there
was some risk in buying such a shrewd, wily fellow
as Louis, who had dared to run away from his
master.

Louis was taken on board a steamboat, with other
slaves, to go down the river to a Southern slave
market. He was kept bound for several days on the
journey, but managed to gain the confidence of his
master, so that his fetters were taken off and he was
allowed the same privileges that the other slaves
had. His master knew that he would not be likely
to sell so well if he was kept bound, for the pur-
chasers would think he was a dangerous fellow, and
undesirable as a piece of property.

As soon as Louis was turned loose he began to
look out for a chance to escape. They were now
near the mouth of the Ohio River, and Louis was
very anxious to make his escape from the boat be-
fore they entered the Mississippi River, at Cairo.
But he found no opportunity, and they were soon
on the broad stream of the Mississippi. The night
after they reached this river, Louis determined on a
plan of escape. A small boat or yawl was tied to
the rear end of the steamboat and floated in the
water. It was kept there for the convenience of
landing passengers without rounding to the steamer,
and for putting the mail ashore at different points
along the river. Louis planned to get into this
boat under cover of darkness, and arranged with the
chamber maid to cut the rope that bound it to the
steamer. Two other slave men, to whom Louis had
confided his plans, had agreed to go with him, but

ONCE MORE A FUGITIVE.

215

at the last moment their hearts failed them and they
concluded to stay. Louis got into the boat, and the
colored chamber-maid, faithful to her promise, cut
the rope, and he paddled away in the darkness.

Louis was now in the middle of the Mississippi,
with a slave State on each side of the river. He
knew how to row well, and soon made his way to
the Missouri side. He pulled up stream near the
bank for some time, but found that it was hard
work, and that he made little headway. When day-
light appeared he tied the yawl in a secluded place
on the shore, and sought a hiding-place, where he
spent the day. When night came, he felt that he
must seek some food, for he was now very hungry.
He concluded to abandon the yawl and make his
way up the river by land. After walking some dis-
tance he came to a farm, and discovering several
negro huts he ventured to approach one. He was
kindly received and furnished with a supply of food.
He gained some information about the country be-
tween that place and Cairo, and pursued his journey.
He 1^ by during the day, and traveled at night
until he reached the Mississippi River, some dis-
tance above Cairo. He suffered from hunger and va-
rious hardships, but found some true friends among
the slaves near the river. Here he rested awhile in
safe concealment, then was helped across the river
into Southern Illinois. In this section fugitive
slaves found few friends, for most of the settlers
were from slave States, and were disposed to cap-
ture all runaways. Through this country Louis
cautiously made his way in the night season, ven-

2 1 6 REMINISCENCES,

turing now and then to call at a house and beg for
food. In a few places he found friends, and was
enabled to rest in safety, and recruit his strength.

Thus he slowly made his way through Illinois into
Indiana, and arrived at the house of Levi Penning-
ton, in Hamilton County, just three months from
the day he first called there. Friend Pennington
was much surprised to see him, having heard of his
capture at Indianapolis, and of his being taken back
to slavery by his master. After resting awhile here,
Louis returned to school and resumed his studies.

We learned afterward that Louis* new master, the
slave-trader, was much enraged when he discove^ed
his loss, and blamed the captain of the boat for
having his yawl where it was so easy of access.
When they arrived at Memphis, he sued the captain
for the price of his slave, contending that the cap-
tain was responsible for the loss of his property.
The trader lost the suit, and had the costs to pay,
then the captain sued him for the detention of the
boat, and gained the suit, and the trader had to pay
seven hundred dollars. Then the captain sued him
for the value of the yawl -which his slave had carried
off, and got judgment against him, which it is said
cost him seven hundred dollars more. According
to this statement, Louis Talbert was a dear piece of
property to the negro-trader.

JOHN WHITE.

John White was the slave of a man who lived in
Kentucky, just opposite Rising Sun, Indiana, on
the Ohio River. He married a slave woman, the

JOHN WHITE. 217

daughter of her master, who lived in the neighbor-
hood, and they had several children. He was very
much attached to his family, and visited them as
often as he was permitted by his master. Hearing
one day that his master intended to sell him to the
far South, and knowing that he would thus be sepa-
rated from his family, he determined to run away.
Carrying his plan into execution he crossed the
river into Indiana, where he had some friends — free
colored people — and by them was directed to my
house at Newport. Here he remained some weeks,
and my deepest sympathies were aroused in his
behalf. He was naturally very bright and intelli-
gent, but his mind seemed overclouded with gloom
at the prospect of leaving his family in slavery. He
finally started toward Canada, stopping on the way
at Raisin Institute, near Adrian, Michigan, a school
open to all, irrespective of color, where he met that
noted abolitionist and noble-hearted woman, Laura
S. Haviland, having been directed to her by me.
He remained in Canada several months, but being
anxious and concerned about his family, resolved to
return to his abolition friends in the States, to see
if something could not be done, and accordingly
came back to Raisin Institute, in Michigan. It was
then winter and not a suitable season to make an
attempt to rescue his wife and children, so he re-
mained at the institute during the winter and spring,
and attended school. He was very eager to learn,
and made rapid progress in his studies.

In the summer he returned to my house, at New-
port, and consulted with me regarding the project

2 1 8 nEmmscENCEs,

he had so much at heart. A messenger was sent to
his colored friends, at Rising Sun, to see if arrange-
ments could be made with them to aid his family
in escaping, but nothing definite could be deter-
mined upon. Not willing to give it up, John White
remained several months at Newport — ^working and
attending school, and in the winter ventured to
go to Cincinnati, hoping to make arrangements with
the colored stewards of the Louisville and Cincin-
nati packets, with whom he was acquainted, but
failed in this. He then returned to Michigan, where
he remained a year or two, continuing his education
at the Raisin Institute, but never forgettii^ his
anxiety about his wife and children, and his hope to

see them free.

His story finally so enlisted the • sympathies of

Laura S. Haviland that she resolved to aid him in

his desire, and, with that purpose in view, went

down to Rising Sun and introduced herself to John's

colored friends, who were, by the way, almost white.

Disguising herself, she went with one of the
women across the river into Kentucky, ostensibly to
pick blackberries. Going to the house where John's
wife lived, the colored woman introduced Laura
Haviland as her aunt, and the mistress gave John's
wife permission to accompany them in their search
for blackberries. This afforded the opportunity
which had been so long desired, and the wife soon
heard the message from her long lost husband, and
was made acquainted with the plans for the escape
of herself and her children.

During this interview the arrangements were all

A SAD RECEPTION.

219

made and the time fixed, and on the appointed night
John crossed the river from Rising Sun, and brought
away his wife and six children from their place of
bondage. This was the opportunity for which he
had worked and prayed so long, and success seemed
at last to have crowned his efforts. But alas ! it was
only a gleam of light before a darker night.

Reaching the river they entered a skiff, and at-
tempted to row across to a point above Rising Sun,
where a wagon was to meet them, but the water
was high and the current swift and strong, and in
spite of their efiforts, they floated down the river
some distance below Rising Sun, and were unable
to reach the landing where the wagon was waiting.

Daylight coming on, they hid in the thickets and
remained there all day, and at night unwisely ven-
tured out into the high road. There had been am-
ple opportunity for the master to gather a posse of
men and start in pursuit, and the fugitives had not
proceeded far when they found themselves hemmed
in between two companies of pursuers. The wife
and children were recaptured, but John sprang into
the thickets and managed to elude the pursuers.
He could not protect his family by staying with
them ; he would only be caught himself, and he
sought safety in flight, but the cries of his wife and
children rang in his ears, and the thought of their
anguish lacerated his heart.

He lay out in the woods several days, and then
made his way to the hut of a free colored man,
where he obtained food, of which he was sadly in
need, being almost famished. Here he was found

'•.i'ti-ar

220 REMINISCENCES,

and captured by Wright Ray, a noted negro-hunter,
of Madison, Indiana, who was in search of other
fugitives at that time. He took John to Madison,
then across into Kentucky, and lodged him in jail.
When questioned, John had the shrewdness to give
— not his own name — but that of a fugitive with
whom he became acquainted in Canada. He said
that his name was James Armstrong, that he was
the property of the widow Armstrong, of Augusta,
Kentucky, but had lived several years in Michigan.
Wright Ray pretended to go to the widow Arm-
strong, and buy her slave James at a low price "as
he ran," and then told John that if he had any
friends in Michigan who would raise the money in a
certain time, that he would sell him for three hun-
dred and fifty dollars. At John's request the sheriff
wrote to an address in Michigan, giving this infor-
mation, and the letter came into the hands of
Laura S. Haviland. Though all the names were
fictitious, she concluded that the person referred
to was John White, and immediately took measures
to obtain his libcrtv. She came to our house — we
were then living at Cincinnati — and told her story,
intending to go on to Madison, Indiana, cross over
into Kentucky, and see if the slave in jail was really
John White. I persuaded her to remain, and sent
instead, my nephew, M. C. White, giving him
letters to Judge Stevens, of Madison, and other
noted abolitionists, who might be of service to him
in his mission. He went to Kentucky, found that
the slave in question was John White, and then en-
tered into negotiations to obtain his freedom. In

PURCHASING A JIVNAWAF. 221

presence of Judge Stevens, of Madison, he made
a contract with Wright Ray to pay the three hun-
dred and fifty dollars on the following conditions :
Wright Ray was to bring John White to Madison,
and place him on board the packet bound for Cin-
cinnati; the money was to be deposited with the
clerk of the boat, and be paid over when John was
safely delivered to his friends in this city.

M C. White then returned to Cincinnati, and
made known the success of his mission. I borrowed
the money — as Laura S. Haviland had not time to
obtain it before she started — and sent him back to
Madison. The terms of the contract were carried
out, and John White arrived at Cincinnati. The
boat came in before daylight, when the clerk who
had the money in charge was asleep, but M. C.
White informed Wright Ray that he would take
John up town and return at eight o'clock to pay
over the money.

As soon as John reached my house he was con-
cealed, as it was not thought safe for him to be seen
in the streets, lest he might be recognized by some
one who had seen him in Kentucky.

Then, following my instructions, M. C. White
returned to the boat and told Wright Ray that he
was ready to pay over the money, but informed him
that the slave was not the person he (W. R. )
thought he was, that he was a free man (taking the
ground that all men are free until they forfeit their
liberty by crime), and that if he received the money,
he would be guilty of kidnapping, and must risk
the consequences. Ray, however, decided to take

222 JiEMJmSCESCE&

the money and it was paid over to him. Lawyer
JoHff, and I obtained a writ as soon as possible —
which was at nine o'clock — and placed it in the
hands of an officer with instructions to arrest
Wright Ray, but when the officer went to the boat
Ray was not to be found. We immediately for-
warded the writ to Judge Stevens, at Madison,
and Ray was soon afterward arrested at that place
and lodged in jail, where he remained several
months, awaiting the opening of court. The case
would, without doubt, have gone against him had it
been tried, but the presence of John White as prose^
cuting witness would have been necessary, and his
friends feared to risk his freedom, so the case was
allowed to go by default.

John returned to Michigan, almost broken-hearted.
All his endeavors to gain the freedom of his wife
and children had been in vain, and he never saw
them again. They were shortly afterward sold and
separated, the master taking a price for his own
daughter. Laura S. Haviland wrote to him several
times, portraying in the strongest terms the sin of
selling his own child. Her letters made a deep im-
pression on his mind, and he was so much distressed
that he became almost insane ; he would walk the
floor of nights, hour after hour, striving to make
terms with his guilty conscience. He made g^eat
efibrts to buy back his daughter and her children,
but without success, and it was thought that this
trouble shortened his days.

ANTISLAVS&r DISCUSSION.

223

CHAPTER VII.

DISCUSSION OF THE ANTI -SLAVERY SUBJECT — ANTI-
SLAVERY SOCIETIES AND LECTURERS — OPPOSITION
TO THE MOVEMENT — SEPARATION OF FRIENDS OF
INDIANA YEARLY MEETING — ACTION WHICH CAUSED
THE SEPARATION — REUNION — THE COMMITTEE
FROM LONDON YEARLY MEETING — INTERVIEWS
WITH THE COMMITTEE — LAST INTERVIEW WITH
WILLIAM FORSTER — VISIT TO CANADA IN 1 844 —
MEETINGS WITH FUGI^VES — THEIR STORIES — A
SPECIAL PROVIDENCE — AUNT SUSIE'S DREAM — THF
STORY OF JACKSON — A MOTHER RESCUES HER
CHILDREN.

THE subject of slavery had been talked about
and discussed at Newport and in other neigh-
borhoods of Friends in our part of the State, by
Friends and others who felt for those in bonds as
bound with them, for several years previous to the
agitation of the Free Labor question. Abolitionism
at that time was very unpopular. Some Friends
advocated colonization, or gradual emancipation,
and many joined the popular current of opposi-
tion to abolitionism. Some of us felt that there
was need of rnore earnest labor and renewed ex-
ertions on behalf of suffering humanity, even among

224

REMINISCENCES,

Friends who professed to bear r a testimony against
slavery — that an effort should be made to enlighten
the minds of the people, and to advance the cause
of •immediate and unconditional emancipation on
Christian principles. We felt that this movement
could be forH'arded by giving circulation to such
publications as were calculated to create an interest
in the cause of the oppressed and suffering slave.
To promote this object, a few of us, of Newport and
vicinity, held, in the year 1838, a conference to con-
sult in regard to our duty in this matter. Daniel
Puckett, and other prominent Friends, took an inter-
est in the conference. The result was that we de-.
cided to establish an anti-slavery library at Newport,
and to collect all the books, tracts, and other pub-
lications on the subject that we could, and circulate
them among the people. There was then a depos-
itory of anti-slavery publications open at Cincinnati.
The sum of twenty-five dollars was subscribed^ and
I was authorized to obtain the publications that we
needed. I afterward bought others with my own
means, and kept up the supply. We gave away
these publications, or loaned them until they were
worn out. The effect of this effort was manifested
in a deep and increasing interest on the subject of
slavery, in our neighborhood. We often held libra-
ry meetings, as we called them. In that day of
mobs and the ridicule of abolitionism, it would not
do to call them abolition meetings, even though the
anti-slavery sentiment was on the increase in In-
diana. About that time a number of Friends, who
were in favor of immediate and unconditional eman-

ANTI-SLAVERY DISCUSSION,

325

cipation, joined with others in the formation of the
State Anti-Slavery Society of Indiana, which was
organized at Milton, in Wayne County.

In the year 1840, Arnold Buffum, a member of
the Society of Friends, and one of the noble band
of twelve that organized the American Anti-Slavery
Society, in 1833, on the ground of immediate anc^
unconditional emancipation, came to the West foi
the purpose of holding meetings among the people ;
to talk about the wrongs and sufferings of the slave,
and to excite an interest in his behalf. It was a
work that lay near his heart and one to which he
believed himself called by his Heavenly Father.
He believed that he was reqjjired to plead the cause
of the oppressed ; to speak for the dumb, and to
show forth the cruelty of slavery. He had labored
extensively in the Eastern States, and had encoun-
tered much opposition in the path of his duty.
Some of those who had opposed his labors in the
East, endeavored to block up his way and spoil his
influence in the West, by writing defamatory letters
to their friends here. In these letters they made
statements concerning him in which there was not a
particle of truth. These stories were circulated
wherever he went, with a view to prejudice the
people against him ; but his enemies were foiled in
their designs. One of the wicked and foolish stories
told concerning him was, that he was an amalgama-
tionist, and had a colored woman for his wife. But
the people among whom he traveled could soon see
for themselves that this was a falsehood. His ami-
able and excellent wife, who accompanied him in all

226 REMINISCENCES.

his travels for the purpose of sustaining and comfo*""»
ing him, and who was in full sympathy with himi
was a highly esteemed member of the religious
ciety of Friends, and had no connection with th#^
colored race.

After laboring for some time in Ohio, Amok^-i
BufTum made his way to our neighborhood anc^^
came directly to my house. I had never seen hii
before, but had heard much of him and his worl
and the cold reception that he had met with iie^
many places. I gave him a hearty welcome to m^^
house and our State, and told him that when I hear</
he was pleading the cause of the poor slave in Ohio,
I had earnestly desired that the Lord would send
him to Indiana. We appointed a meeting for him
at our meeting-house in Newport, and there was a
good audience of PViends and others, to hear him on
the subject of slavery. He made a good impres-
sion, and a number of meetings were held in our
place ; appointments also were made in other neigh-
borhoods.

Daniel Puckett, a noted minister among Friends,
accompanied him to some of these neighboring
meetings, and Jonathan Hough, another well-known
Friend, was his companion when he went to Win-
chester, and other places in Randolph County.
After he returned to Newport, I went to Center
vilFe, our county seat, and obtained the privilege of
holding a meeting in the Court-House. At the ap-
pointed time, I accompanied him to the place. We
had a large meeting, but there was some disorder.
The mob spirit plainly manifested itself, but was

ANTI-SLAVERY DISCUSSION.

227

finally quelled without any serious disturbance.
Buffum was used to such demonstrations, and was
not embarrassed by them in the least. He was the
first anti-slavery lecturer who had spoken in that
part of the State, and he had ignorance as well as
prejudice to contend with. From Centervillc we
went to Spicelarid, in Henry County, where we had
an appointment, and held two meetings. We also
held two meetings at Greensboro, then went to
Raysville. These meetings were well attended, but,
strange as it may seem now, many Friends seemed
shy of them, appearing to be afraid to risk their
reputation by attending an abolition meeting. They
professed to be as much opposed to slavery as any
one, but seemed to be more opposed to abolition-
ism. Different religious denominations partook of
this same prejudice, and we found ourselves opposed
by the cultured as well as the ignorant. It tried a
man's soul to be an abolitionist in those days, when
brickbats, stones and rotten eggs were some of the
arguments we had to meet.

Arnold Buffum did not attempt to organize anti-
slavery societies. His mission did not seem to be
that work, but the endeavor to rouse an interest in
the minds of Friends and others on behalf of the
slave, and to prepare the way for more efficient
action.

He labored for several months in Wayne and ad-
joining counties, making my house his headquarters
His anti-slavery lectures in the different neighbor-
hoods created an excitement among the people, and
set them to thinking and talking on the subject,

228 BEMJNISCENVES.

and debating it among themselves. The arguments
that Buffum used made deep impressions on many
minds, and caused them to reflect on a subject to
which they had previously given little attention.

Soon after Buffum's first tour in Indiana, Louis
Hicklin, a Methodist preacher, from near Madison,
Indiana, traveled over the same ground, delivering
anti-slavery lectures, and organizing anti-slavery so-
cieties. The agitation of this subject was now fairly
under way. Anti-slavery lecturers began to canvass
the State, strong anti-slavery societies were organ-
ized in various places, and the subject received more
thoughtful attention than had before been bestowed
upon it. A State Anti-Slavery Convention was held
at Newport, and was largely attended by delegates
from various parts of the State. Newport was
called by the pro-slavery party, "the hot-bed of
abolitionism." My house was generally the home
of the lecturers and speakers who were traveling
through our neighborhood, pleading the cause of
the slave. I was always glad to entertain them,
and to do all I could in forwarding the cause we had
so much at heart. Charles Burley, Frederick Doug-
lass and other speakers from the East were among
those who stopped at my house.

But as the anti-slavery movement gained strength,
the opposition to it became more powerful. Poli-
ticians and other prominent men opposed it, and
their influence gave encouragement to the lower
classes who possessed the mob spirit and who often
interrupted the anti-slavery meetings. When Fred.
Douglass made his first lecturing tour through the

ANTI^LA VERY DISCUSSION.

229

West, accompanied by other prominent speakers
from Massachusetts, he had to contend with prej-
udice expressed in the most insulting manner.

At their meeting at Richmond, while they were
on the stand speaking, rotten eggs were thrown at
them, and at Pendleton they were pelted with brick*
bats, stones and eggs, until they were driven from
the platform. M. C. White, my wife's nephew,
who was on the platform, had two of his front teeth
knocked out by a brickbat, thrown by one of the
mob. Such disgraceful disturbances were of fre-
quent occurrence in various parts of the State,
when meetings were held to plead the cause of the
slave. This, however, only served to forward the
anti-slavery cause among quiet, well disposed citi-
zens. Daniel Worth, a prominent Wesleyan min»
ister, was made President of the State Anti-Slavery
Society, and several State Conventions were held at
Newport, Wayne County, and Greensboro, Henry
County. The work commenced by Arnold BufTum,
in 1840, went on with increasing interest, being sus-
tained by Dr. Bennett and other prominent speakers
who devoted much time and labor in pleading the
cause of the oppressed, until the eastern, middle and
northern counties of the State became so strongly
alH)litionist in sentiment, that the number of the
people were very small who would risk their repu-
tation in giving aid to the slave-hunters. Public
opinion became so strongly anti-slavery in our
neighborhood, that I often kept fugitives at my
house openly, while preparing them for their jour-

230 REMINISCENCES.

ney to the North, without any fear of being mo«
lested.

But, notwithstanding this large increase of anti-
slavery sentiment, the pro-slavery party still held
the reins of government, in both Church and State,
and there was a strong opposition to the abolition
movement. The doctrine of immediate and uncon-
ditional emancipation was unpopular. Some promi-
nent members of the Society of Friends opposed it.
and favored colonization or gradual emancipation.

This difference of opinion subsequently led to a
separation in Indiana Yearly Meeting of Friends
which occurred in 1843, and was a sore trial to
many of us. The causes of this painful separation
are fully set forth in the history of the separation of
Friends of Indiana Yearly Meeting, compiled by
Walter Edgerton. The two Yearly Meetings con-
tinued their separate organizations for thirteen years,
but a reunion was finally effected, to the rejoicing
of many hearts on both sides.

We were proscribed for simply adhering to what
we believed to be our Christian duty, as consistent
members of the Society of Friends, in regard to the
anti-slavery movement ; in uniting with others in
anti-slavery societies, opening our meeting-houses
for anti-slavery meetings, to plead the cause of the
oppressed, and laboring for the spread of anti-
slavery truth in every way we could, consistent with
our profession as Christians. We asked only liberty
of conscience — freedom to act according to one's
conscientious convictions. We did not wish to
interfere with the conscience or liberty of others.

DIVISION AMONG THE FRIENDS.

231

but strictly to live up to that part of our Discipline
which bore a testimony against slavery. We had
no new doctrine to preach ; we advocated immediate
and unconditional emancipation as we had done all
our lives. This we understood to be the doctrine
and testimony of the Society of Friends for genera-
tions past. But abolitionism was unpopular; an
odium was attached to the very name of abolitionist.
It tried men's souls in those days to meet the cur-
rent of opposition.

Strange as it may seem to the rising generation
who read the part of Friend's Discipline relating to
slavery, and who would naturally suppose that they
would give their support to every movement oppos-
ing slavery, there was a spirit of opposition to aboli-
tionism attributable to various causes, which had
almost imperceptibly crept in among Friends, and
which manifested itself in the Yearly Meeting. A
few leading members were colonizationists, some
were gradualists, and many were led to believe that
there was some disgrace about abolitionism — they
could hardly tell what — and they fell in with the cur-
rent of opposition. Charles Osborne, that faithful
servant of the Lord, who preached no new doctrine,
had experienced no change, but followed the same
course and advocated the same anti-slavery doctrine
that he had for forty years. He, with many others
of our prominent and faithful ministers, DanieJ
Puckett, Thomas Frazier, Abel Roberts, Isam
Puckett, Martha Wooton, etc., were proscribed and
considered disqualified for service in the church,
because they could not conscientiously adhere to

232

REMINISCENCES,

the advice of the Yearly Meeting. We were ad-
vised not to unite in abolition societies, nor to open
our meeting-houses for abolition meetings.

This took place at the Yearly Meeting in the fbll
of 1842. These advices were sent down to Quar-
terly and Monthly Meetings, with a committee to sec
that they were carried out. Thus we had no alter-
native ; we must separate, or be disowned for oppos-
ing the advice of the body, as they called it. In
the winter of 1843 we called a convention at New-
port, Indiana, which was largely attended by mem-
bers of the various Quarterly Meetings who felt
aggrieved with the action of the Yearly Meeting.

We spent some time in prayerful deliberation and
the result was the reorganization of Indiana Yearly
Meeting and the establishment of the Yearly Meet-
ing of Anti-Slavery Friends. No change in the Dis-
cipline was thought necessary. Five Quarterly
Meetings and twelve Monthly Meetings were organ-
ized and established; these constituted the New
Yearly Meeting. As soon as these meetings were
organized the opposite party seemed to take alarm,
and ceased to prosecute the proscriptive measures
which had caused the separation.

By this loosening of the cord they no doubt savcul
many of their members, who sympathized with us,
but who on account of the change in policy were
not driven to the necessity of separating from the
body. Thus a large number of Friends in the limits
of Indiana Yearly Meeting retained unity with us
and brotherly feeling toward us, and many of the
members of other Yearly Meetings sympathized

DIVISION AMONG THE FRIENDS,

233

With us. We had many able ministers, both men
and women, with us, and we experienced many
precious meetings, where the overshadowing wing
of Divine Goodness was sensibly felt to hover over
us and bless our assembly. The trials and suffer-
ings through which we had passed together made
us near and dear to each other. This feeling
remains with those still living, to the present day,
and is renewed whenever we meet. Several of our
most prominent ministers of the present day were
connected with anti-slavery Friends; many of the
older ones have gone to their reward.

As time rolled on, and the anti-slavery sentiment
increased, and the odium attached to abolitionism
lessened, many of the younger members of the old
Yearly Meeting came forward nobly and joined us
on the anti-slavery platform, and many of the older
ones acknowledged that the Yearly Meeting did
wrong in pursuing the course that brought the sep-
aration, and manifested the most friendly feeling
toward us. The Yearly Meeting made a change in
the Discipline in regard to acknowledgments from
those who had once been members ; thus leaving the
door open for a reunion. Many of the older ones
on both sides had passed away. There seemed
now to be nothing to keep us longer apart, so we
dissolved our separate organizations, and \\\ most
or all of the Monthy Meetings, where anti-slavery
Friends lived, a proposition was made to the
Monthly Meeting in writing, to unite in a body
without making any acknowledgment. This prop-
osition was accepted in most cases, at that meeting,
20

^34

MEMINISCjENVjSS.

without making an appointment. Thus a happy
reunion was effected.

In the year 1845, London Yearly Meeting issued
an address to the anti-slavery Friends who had se|>
arated from Indiana Yearly Meeting, and appointed
a committee to accompany it and to endeavor
to heal the breach. This commmittee was com-
posed of four prominent and influential Friends—
Wijliam Forster, George Stacy, Josiah Forster and
John Allen. They arrived in this country in time
to attend the Yearly Meeting at Richmond in th^
tenth month of that year.

The Yearly Meeting of Anti-Slavery Friends was
in session at the same time at Newport, ten miles
distant. We supposed that the committee would at-
tend our meeting also, but in this we were mistaken.
The old Yearly Meeting appointed a committee to
give such information as they desired. The day after
that Yearly Meeting closed, the English Friends
paid a short social visit to Charles Osborne, who
was stopping at my house. Several other Friends
were present. During this short interview some
intimation of their intended course was given, in-
fluenced perhaps by the counsel of the advisory
committee of the old Yearly Meeting. They re-
turned the same evening to Richmond, which was
their headquarters. They concluded to vLsit the
distant meetings or outposts of anti-slavery Friends,
before visiting the larger body at Newport, and
other meetings in that vicinity. After they left
I Newport several of the leading anti-slavery Friends
thought it necessary to confer together a little oa

DIVISION AMONG THE FRIENDS. 235

the circumstances of their conclusions, believing
that the course of action the committee had decided
upon would not heal the breach or effect the object
of their mission to this country. This conference
resulted in our addressing a letter .to the committee,
in brotherly love, suggesting a different course.
This letter was signed by fourteen prominent
Friends — Charles Osborne, Daniel Puckett and
others — and Benjamin Stanton, Henry H. Way and
I were nominated to carry it to them at Richmond
before they started West, and to have an interview
with them. We were kindly received by the com-
mittee, and had a free and open conversation with
these noble Christian men on the subject of their
mission. We fully believed that the course they
were about to pursue would not bring the differing
parties together as they desired, and as we also
greatly desired.

We thought that if the leading influential mem-
bers of both parties could be brought together, and
the causes of the differences that produced the sep-
aration investigated, and clearly set forth to the
committee, they might be able to judge clearly and
intelligently, and to advise in the matter. But they
thought that their minute of appointment from
London Yearly Meeting would not justify them in
taking that course, as the address of that meeting
was to anti-slavery Friends, advising them to cease
holding their separate meetings and to return to the
body from which they had separated. London
Yearly Meeting did not understand all the causes
of the separation, but took it for granted that the.

236

REMINISCENCES,

Society of Friends was everywhere an anti-slavery
body, and bore a testimony against slavery both in
Europe and America. They did not understand the
different sentiments among us in this country in
regard to anti-slavery action — that the spirit of col-
onization and gradual emancipation was deeply
seated in the minds of many Friends here, notwith-
standing that, in their General Epistle, London
Yearly Meeting had denounced colonization as an
odions plan of expatriation. They were not aware
that the great body of the Society of Friends in
America had, with nearly all other religious socie-
ties, thrown the weight of their influence against
the few true abolitionists who advocated immediate
and unconditional emancipation.

Friends in America, as a body, had fallen into the
popular current and denounced abolitionism, though
there were in all the Yearly Meetings noble excep-
tions, persons who had to suffer on account of their
testimonies, and who stood firm in the face of oppo-
sition and battled for the right.

These members of the minority sympathized with
us who had dared to stand firm in the cause of the
oppressed and suffering slave, and to the testimony
of the Society of Friends against slavery. We often
received letters of cheer and encouragement from
members of other Yearly Meetings. Charles Os-
borne, who was widely known and loved as a faith-
iil minister of the gospel, and who had traveled and
labored much in the ministry, was among the num-
ber proscribed and pronounced disqualified for labor
in the church.

DIVISION AMONG THE FRIENDS,

237

Friends in England had no such trials to pass
through; abolitionism was popular there, and they
were united in their sentiments on the anti-slavery
subject. They united with others in anti-slavery
societies, and opened their meeting-houses for anti-
slavery meetings. In this country our meeting-
houses were refused for such purposes, when we
wished to assemble to plead the cause of the slave
and to try to enlighten and awaken public sentiment
on the subject of slavery. We apprehended that
the English Committee were not fully apprised of
all these circumstances, which led to our separation,
hence our letter to them and our interview with
them. All these matters were carefully laid before
them, and received a kind and respectful hearing,
but they could not feel it right to change their pro-
gramme.

Tfiey had decided to visit all the different neigh-
borhoods of anti-slavery Friends belonging to our
Yearly Meeting, call the Friends together at their
meeting-places, and after reading to them the ad-
dress of London Yearly Meeting, advise them to
discontinue their separate organizations, and return
to the body. This was as far as they thought they
were justified by their appointment to go ; they felt
that they could not act as umpires or mediators be-
tween the two parties. We assured them that such
a course of action could not effect a reunion. We
said that anti-slavery Friends had counted the cost
and suffered much before they separated ; that our
meetings had been much blessed, and that we had
abundant evidence that our assemblies had been

238

REMINISCENCED.

owned by the great Head of the Church. We had
been forced to take the step we did by the act of
Indiana Yearly Meeting, and if we enjoyed religious
society at all there was no alternative for us but to
continue our meetings. Until a different spirit was
manifested by the body we had separated from, we
could not relinquish or discontinue our oi^niza-
tions ; we believed that the cause we had so much
at heart would suffer by such a course. We were
fully convinced that their labors in the direction
they had decided upon would not effect the object
desired. This seemed to make a deep impression
on the mind of dear old William Forster; indeed,
all of them seemed full of love and kind feeling to-
ward us. They talked freely with us on the matter,
expressing their earnest desire that the unity of the
body might be restored. We desired the same
thing, but we were not disposed to cry Peace,
peace, when there was no peace. Those days
were trying and proving seasons to many of us.
We parted from the committee in love and kind
feeling, leaving them to ponder over our sugges-
tions. But they pursued the course planned out,
visiting the various neighborhoods of anti-slavery
Friends on the outskirts of our Yearly Meeting,
calling the people together at their different meet-
ing-places, reading the address to them, and advis-
ing them to discontinue their separate organizations.
The result was what we had anticipated; anti-
slavery Friends were not prepared to accept their
advice or to adhere to their counsels. I wish to
speak of these dear Friends from England with

DIVISION AMONG THE FRIENDS. 239

much love, and to hold in kind remembrance their
many good works, and their devotedness to the
cause of. Christ. But I think they erred in judg-
ment — as it is possible for good and wise men to do
— and I believe they were fully sensible of it before
thej' left this country. Our separate organization
was kept up, and it was nearly eleven years after
their visit that a satisfactory reunion was effected.

Their meeting with anti-slavery Friends at New^
port was held about three days before they started
home. When they arrived in town in the morning,
a short time before the appointed hour of their
meeting, they took quarters at the house of William
Hobbs, a prominent member of the old Yearly
Meeting. At the close of the meeting, I invited
them to our house to dine, but they declined, hav-
ing promised to return to William Hobbs*. I told
them I wanted them to pay me a visit before they
left town, having learned that they had to retum to
Richmond that evening. I said I had something to
show them, which I thought would interest them,
and which they would be likely to remember after
they returned to their own country.

William Forster said : ' ' We will go home with
thee now, " as it was on their way to their stopping
place. He took me by one arm, George Stacy by
the other, and the other two Friends followed us.
When we arrived at our house, I seated them in the
parlor, excused myself for a moment, and went into
a back room where there were fourteen fugitive
slaves, who had arrived the night before. An old
white-haired grandmother was there, with several of

240 REMINISCENCES.

her children and grandchildren; one of her daugh-
ters had a child three months old. I invited them
all to follow me into the parlor to see the four En-
glish Friends, telling them the gentlemen lived
on the other side of the ocean where there was no
slavery, and were true friends to the slave. This
seemed to remove all fear from them, and they fol-
lowed me into the parlor. I had them to stand in a
semicircle, and introduced them to the English
Friends as fugitive slaves fleeing from the land of
whips and chains, and seeking safety in the Queen's
dominions. The Friends all rose and shook hands
with them. Taking the child in my arms, I said :
"See this innocent babe, which was bom a slave,"
and handed it to George Stacy, who stood near me.
He took it in his arms and fondled it, for it was a
pleasant looking child. All the Friends seemed
deeply interested, and asked the fugitives many
questions. The old woman seemed to be quite in-
telligent, and answered their questions readily.

William Forster said : ** It is a long road to Can-
ada; do you think you will ever reach that coun-
try?" He did not know the facilities of the Under-
ground Railroad.

The old negrcss replied: '*De Lord has been with
us dis far, an' I trust He will go with us to de end
of dc journey."

William Forster said: "Thou art old and feeble."

"Yes, massa, " she replied, "but I'se been pray-
in* de good Lord a great while to let me breathe
one mouthful of free air before I died, and bress his
great name, He opened dc way so dat we got off

Dmsiox AJioyo the friesds.

241

safe and He has guided u5 to viis good man's hou5e»
and he and his g'.">od wife has i:nv<^ «> clothes to
make us vi-arm. and when we rest a tittle so we am
stand more night travel, he says he will send us on.
May de Ijord bress him ! You see, gent'men, dat
de Lord is good to us and helps us. "

Many more questions were asked by the Friends*
and answered bv the old ti-oman and others of the
part>\ The Friends seemed so interested! that they
hardlv knew how to close the inter\ iew. When the
fugitives retired, I turned to George Stacy, and

**For pleading the cause of innocent baWs like
the one thou held in thy arms, and sheltering the
fugitives, such as you have seen, we have been
proscribed. Now, my dear friends, if you fully
understood the difference of sentiment that exists,
and the course pursued by some of the leailing
members of Indiana Yearly Meeting, which led to
our separation, you could not advise the discontin-
uance of our oi^nization, while they persist in
their course toward us. Your efforts have strength-
ened the opposition to our labors."

I then alluded to the course pursued by the con^
mittec of the old Yearly Meeting, when they visited
the Quarterly and Monthly Meetings to enforce the
epistle of advice issued by the Yearly Meeting.
My remarks seemed to make a deep impression on
their minds. William Forster said : •*It must have
been very trying, indeed," to which tlie others as-
sented. Their time had now expired and we must

242

REMINISCENCES,

separate, but, before starting, William Forster said
to his companions :

*' We must not leave this country without having
a more deliberate opportunity with Levi Coffin; I
do not feel satisfied." After consulting together a
few moments, they asked me if I would be willing
to meet them at Richmond. I said that I would,
and told them to appoint the time and place most
convenient to themselves, and I would endeavor to
meet them promptly. They had an appointment
for the next day at Dover, which would close their
labors in that part of the country, and suggested
that I meet them the day following, at nine
o'clock in the morning. The place appointed was
the house of my cousin, Elijah Coffin, in Rich-
mond, where they made their headquarters. I
suggested having another Friend to accompany me,
but they seemed to prefer an interview with me
alone. I met them at the hour appointed, having
a deep sense of my incompetency to engage in
debate with four well-educated and well-informed
English gentlemen. William Forster was a prom-
inent and widely known minister, George Stacy was
clerk of London Yearly Meeting, and Josiah Fors-
ter and John Allen were highly esteemed elders.
How could I, a lay-member of a proscribed body
of abolitionists, venture to differ from or call into
question the acts of these wise Christian fathers
in the church? These feelings and thoughts passed
through my mind as I proceeded to Richmond, and
I prayed earnestly that I might be guided and
rightly directed in everything I uttered — that self

and proT-CT.-r-ri; k.~h;,r.v* i.VK^:;-.- .■.;■, i .■

'■.%. , ,„

nent FriinCs..

I ~poke more fully of tin- »n.-.»-m-. ■.

>-<- 1 h\

the Yearly Mcciiiisj. nhirli i-.)ii-.>-.l m.i

»\ <i| If 1.1

pass through tkvp tii;)ls .iml miIIi imfi

I, ihil limith

broufjht about tho si'p.ii.ili«n. .m.l >uil-

1 Ih.tl 1 lii-

lievcd the matter wan iml fullv iirnl't-li

.M.l t.) 1 ..II

don Yearly Mcttinj;. th;il il it li.nl In . pi,

III. I «Mi||.|

not have issued tliai ail.lii i'> .nUiiliif! i

|. I» lIl-Mltl

tinue our S(rp;tratf ort^aiii/.iii'rti V- n

\;- 4"Uinii

are not infalliW':, I "Hitiiiu. i|, .n,'i mkI

Ii/I'I'mN utM

not infaJ'iW';, and ytu, my 'l"j» immtf,

244

REMINISCENCES,

erred in judgment from lack of a full understanding
of this difficulty, for you are only men.

George Stacy, who sat near me, patted me affec-
tionately on the knee, and said : * ' We know that,
Levi; we are very poor creatures of ourselves. "

William Forster said: '*I hope thou wilt award
honesty to our purpose."

I said: ** Certainly I will. I love you as Chris-
tian brothers and have no doubt of the honesty of
your purpose, but your labors will not have the
desired effect. Our organization will not be discon-
tinued until a different spirit is manifested by the
opposing party, and Indiana Yearly Meeting opens
the way for a reunion." The committee asked
many questions, which I endeavored to answer care-
fully. They seemed to be deeply impressed and
often said in the course of my statements, "How
painful and trying that must have been." They
appeared very humble and manifested much love
and kindness in their manner toward me. I felt
perfect freedom during the interview, notwithstand-
ing the misgivings I had felt beforehand. After
spending two hours together we parted, with many
expressions of love and kind feeling. After their
return home, I received several communications
^rom them which expressed the same brotherly feel-
ings. Eight years afterward London Yearly Meet-
ing issued an address to the President of the United
States and the governors of the various States in
America, on the subject of slavery.

William Forster, that noble anti-slavery Christian
minister, volunteered to carry the address and visit

THE ENGLISH DELEGATION.

245

all the governors and heads of departments in our
Government. Josiah Forster, his brother, and two
other Friends, John Candler and William Holmes,
were appointed to accompany him in this undertak-
ing. I was then living in Cincinnati. I heard of
their arrival in America, but had no knowledge of
their having reached this city until I went to
Friend's Meeting one First day, and saw William
Forster sitting at the head of the meeting, with his
brother Josiah by his side. I was rejoiced to see
these dear friends again.

William Forster was favored to preach the gospel
with great power and unction that day. As soon as
the meeting closed he made his way to me and
grasped my hand, having previously recognized me.
He told me that they had arrived in the city the
evening before and had taken quarters at Abraham
Taylor's, and invited me to go with them and dine.
I excused myself, as we had company to dine with
us that day, and invited them to visit us, which
they promised to do. We then had charge of the
Colored Orphan Asylum. In the afternoon they
made us a visit and spent a few hours very pleas-
antly. They had the orphan children collected
together, and spoke in an interesting manner, im-
parting much wholesome counsel to them. Learn-
ing that the asylum was a benevolent institution,
dependent on contributions for support, they gave
some money to be applied as we saw fit. We had
taken charge of the asylum a short time, to try to
build it up and get it in a good condition. When
the English Friends were ready to start away, Will-

246

REMINISCENCES.

iam Forstcr declined to get into the carriage, say-
ing that he would walk with me a short distance, as
he wished to have some conversation with me before
we parted. We walked together slow^ly for several
squares. He said he had often thought of me since
we parted at Richmond, eight years before, and
expressed the kind feelings he still had for me.

I expressed the same for him, and went on to
say tl^t the breach was not yet healed in Indiana
Yearly Meeting, but a very different feeling was
now manifested toward us. Many of our opposers
showed a kind and loving spirit ; several of the
prominent members of the old Yearly Meeting
had acknowledged to me that the Yearly Meeting
did wTong in taking the course that brought about
the separation. I believed the way was opening
for a reunion; many of the yoimger members
of the old Yearly Meeting were now boldly advo-
cating the cause we had espoused ; the proscriptive
measures were no longer prosecuted ; and a change
had been made in their Discipline, which opened a
door for us to reunite with them. William Forster
seemed much rejoiced on hearing these statements.
I told him that a change of public sentiment was
rapidly taking place in the North, both in Church
and State, and that abolitionism had lost much of
the odium formerly attached to it. This also seemed
to rejoice his heart, and he said he earnestly hoped
that a happy reunion would soon be effected in In-
diana Yearly Meeting, fie expressed much satis-
faction and comfort in our interview, and said that
it was probably the last time we would meet in this

TUE ESQUSn DEPVTA TION. 247

world, but that he hoped we would meet in the
realms of never-ending peace and joy. We parted
with much love for each other.

The next day the party visited the governor of
Kentucky, then went by way of Indianapolis to Illi-
nois, Wisconsin, and Missouri, and continued their
tour through the Southern States, visiting the gov-
ernor of each State. They had a kind reception and
respectful hearing in every instance. This arduous
work and extensive travel proved too much for the
strength of William Forster. He was taken sick,
and died in East Tennessee, before their mission
was completed. A full account of his peaceful and
happy close is given in the ** Memoirs of William
Forster,*' edited by Benjamin Scebohm. He was
buried in Friends' burying-ground, at Friendsville,
Blount County, East Tennessee.

The remaining members of the delegation finished
the work of their mission, and returned to England
in the spring of 1854. When I heard of the death
of this dear old Friend and faithful servant of the
Lord, it was a great comfort and satisfaction to me
to remember our last interview in Cincinnati.

FIRST VISIT TO CANADA.

In the fall of 1844, William Beard, of Union
County, Indiana, a minister of the religious Society
of Friends, felt a concern to visit, in gospel love, the
fugitive slaves who had escaped from Southern
bondage and settled in Canada. A number of them
had stopped at his house in their flight, and had
been forwarded by him to my house, a distance of

248 REMINISCENCED,

thirty miles. He felt that I was the person who
should accompany him on this mission, and came to
see me to present the subject. I heartily united
with him, having felt a similar desire. We then laid
the concern before our different Monthly Meetings,
where it was cordially united with, and a certificate
of unity and concurrence was given us. Thus pro-
vided with the proper credentials, and with the love
of God in our hearts, we set out on our mission to
the poor fugitives, intending also to visit the mis-
sionary stations among. the Indians in Canada.

We started on horseback on the sixteenth day of
the ninth month — September. On our way we vis-
ited several colored settlements in Ohio and Michi-
gan, and held meetings with the people.

We reached Detroit on the twenty-fifth of the
ninth month, about noon, and in company with Dr.
Porter, a noted abolitionist of that city, spent the
afternoon visiting the colored schools and various
families of fugitives, many of whom remembered
us, having stopped at our houses on their way from
slavery to freedom. In the evening we attended a
good meeting among the colored people, and visited
Aunt Rachel, whose story of escape and suffering is
given elsewhere. She had come over from Canada
and settled in Detroit. She was married, and had a
kind husband. I had not seen her since she left my
house, eight years before.

On the twenty- sixth we passed over to Windsor,
on the Canada side. Here, and at Sandwich, we
visited a number of colored families, many of whom
recognized me at once, having been at my house in

VISIT TO CANADA. 240

the days of their distress when fleeing from a land
of whips and chains.

The Queen's Court was in session at Sandwich
while we were there, and a white man was on trial
for having, under the inducement of a bribe, de-
coyed a fugitive across the river into the hands of
his master. We went into court and listened for a
time with much interest to the lawyers pleading.
We heard Colonel Prince reaffirm the proud boast
of England, that the moment a fugitive set his foot
on British soil his shackles fell off and he was free.
We afterward learned that a heavy penalty of fine
and imprisonment was placed on the culprit.

From Sandwich we made our way down the Can-
ada side of the Detroit River to Amhcrstburg. gen-
erally called Fort Maiden, near the head of I^ke
Erie. In this old military town, and in the vicinity, a
great many fugitives had located. The best tavern, or
house of public entertainment, in the town, wa« kept
by William Hamilton, a colored man. While at thi^
place we made our headquarters at Isaac J. Hir.r.'n
missionary' buildings, where he had a Urgr; nctftfA
for colored children. He had lalKfrcd here surym^
the colored people, mostly fugitives, Urt MX yenn.
He was a devoted self^enying w/rfcer, kvJ rrceiveH
very little pccuniar>- help, and harJ *aHtrrA mMrf
pri^-ations. He was wtil situated in (A^. 4 .
of a Preshiterian ch;ircfa. anrf harf ftft« pr
before him, but belie-.'si that th<- I-of't f*I
to thU field of miHior.ar;/ '^1^^ xtt^^t^ Vhf,
slaves who came here by hiindr^/it M^ fc
sands, poor, desituie and jyni rxtc , nnHt^'n fri-.«*

250

REMINISCENCES.

all the evil influences of slavery. We entered into
deep sympathy with him in his labors, realizing the
great need there was here for just such an institu-
tion as he had established. He had sheltered at this
missionary home many hundreds of fugitives till
other homes for them could be found. This was
the great landing point; the principal terminus of
the Underground Railroad of the West.

We held meetings among the fugitives here and
in the various settlements in the neighborhood.
Isaac J. Rice accompanied us on these visits, and
down the lake to Colchester and Gosfield. Here we
had several meetings and visited many families,
hearing thrilling stories of their narrow escapes,
their great sufferings and the remarkable providences
that attended their efforts to gain freedom. They
told how they had prayed to the Lord, asking him
to be with them and protect them in their flight
from their tyrannical masters, and how he had never
forsaken them in their time of need, but had ful-
filled his promise to go with them. They frequently
spoke as if they had held personal conversations
with the Lord, and their simple and untutored lan-
guage was full of expression of praise and thanks-
giving. I was often led to believe that these poor
ignorant and degraded sons and daughters of Africa,
who were not able to read the*words of the precious
Savior, were blessed with a clearer, plainer manifest-
ation of the Holy Spirit than many of us who have
had better opportunites of cultivation. My heart
was often touched and my eyes filled with tears on
hearing their simple stories, or listening to their fer*

VISIT TO CANADA.

251

vent earnest prayers in the services of family devo-
tion, which we held from house to house. Holding
meetings in families and in public constituted our
work among them. We visited all the principal set-
tlements of fugitives in Canada West, as well as the
various missionary stations among the tribes of
Indians there, and had an interesting and satisfac-
tory season among them. We spent nearly two
months in this way, traveling from place to place on
horseback, as there were no railroads in that section
then.

Leaving Gosfield County we made our way to
Chatham and Sydenham, visiting the various neigh-
borhoods of colored people. We spent several days
at the settlement near Down's Mills, and visited the
institution under the care of Hiram Wilson, called
the British and American Manual Labor Institute
for Colored Children. Friends in England had fur-
nished the money to purchase the land and aid in
establishing the institution ; Friends of New York
Yearly Meeting also contributed to aid this work.
The school was then in a prosperous condition.

From this place we proceeded up the river
Thames to London, visiting the different settlements
of colored people on our way, and then went to the
Wilberforce Colony. This was the only settlement
we visited in our travels where we did not find fugi-
tives who had been sheltered under my roof and fed
at my table during their flight from bondage.

At the close of our religious meetings I generally
addressed the colored people on the subject of edu-
cation. I urged the parents to send their children

252 REMINISCENCES.

to school, and to attend Sabbath-schools and night-
schools themselves whenever opportunity offered ;
to learn at least to read the Bible. We had visited
most of their schools, and I contrasted their present
situation and advantages with their former state of
servitude, where they were not allowed to learn to
read. I sometimes mentioned that I had had the
privilege of aiding some of them in the time of
their distress, of sheltering them under my roof and
feeding them at my table when they were fleeing
from the hardships and cruelties of slavery and seek-
ing safety and freedom in the Queen's dominions.
Whenever I touched that subject it brought out
shouts of ** Bless the Lord! I know you. If it
hadn't been for you I wouldn't be here ;*' and at
the close of the meeting the people would come
round us to shake hands in such crowds that it was
impossible for all to get hold of our hands. Some
would cling to our garments as if they thought
they would impart some virtue. I often met fugi-
tives who had been at my house ten or fifteen
years before, so long ago that I had forgotten
them, and could recall no recollection of them
until they mentioned some circumstance that
brought them to mind. Some of them were well
situated, owned good farms, and were perhaps worth
more than their former masters. Land had been
easily obtained and many had availed themselves of
this advantage to secure comfortable homesteads.
Government land had been divided up into fifty-
acre lots, which they could buy for two dollars an
acre, and have ten years in which to pay for it, and

VISIT TO CANADA.

253

if it was not paid for at the end of that time they
did not lose all the labor they had bestowed on it,
but received a clear title to the land as soon as
they paid for it.

We found many of the fugitives more comfortably
situated than we expected, but there was much des-
titution and suffering among those who had recently
come in. Many fugitives arrived weary and foot-
sore, with their clothing in rags, having been torn
by briers and bitten by dogs on their way, and when
the precious boon of freedom was obtained, they
found themselves possessed of little else, in a
country unknown to them and a climate much
colder than that to which they were accustomed.

We noted the cases and localities of destitution,
and after our return home took measures to collect
and forward several large boxes of clothing and bed-
ding to be distributed by reliable agents to the most
needy. Numbers arrived every week on the differ-
ent lines of the Underground Railroad, destitute of
every comfort and almost of clothing ; so we found
that end of our road required Christian care and
benevolence as well as this. We were gratified to
learn that the colored people of Canada had organ-
ized benevolent associations among themselves, for
the purpose of assisting the newly arrived fugitives
as far as they could.

William Beard and I afterward made short tours
to Canada at different times to look after the welfare
of the fugitives. At the time of our visit, in 1844,
there was said to be about forty thousand fugitives
in Canada who had escaped from Southern bondage.

254

REMINISCENCES.

While mingling with the fugitives in Canada we
heard many interesting stories of individual adven-
tures and trials, a few of which will be given.

The first may be appropriately called :

A SPECIAL PROVIDENCE,

There lived in Mississippi, a black woman who
was poor, ignorant, and a slave, but rich in the
knowledge of the truth as it is in Jesus, and strong
in unwavering faith. Working in the field under
the driver's lash, or alone in her little hut, she never
ceased praying to God, asking him to help her to
escape, and assist and protect her on the long jour-
ney to the North. She had heard there was a place
called Canada, far to the northward, where all were
free, and learned that, in order to reach it, she must
go a long way up the Mississippi River, then cross
over and steer her course by the north star. Finally,
her prayers seemed to be answered, and she had
perfect faith that she would be preserved through
all the dangers that would menace her if she ran
away.

One night, when all around were wrapped in sleep,
she put a small supply of food and some clothing
together, in a little bundle, and, stealing away from
the negro quarters, left the plantation and plunged
into the forest, which was there a labyrinth of
swamps and cane-brakes. She made her way
through this slowly, for several days, often hearing*
the bloodhounds baying on her track, or perhaps in
search of other fugitives. Slaves often fled to these
swamps and took refuge among the thickets, pre-

A REMARKABLE PROVIDENCE.

2SS

ferring the companionship of the deadly moccasin
snake and the alligator, and the risk of death from
starvation or exposure to the cruel treatment of
their masters, and the keen cut of the overseer's
lash.

This slave woman managed to evade the dogs by
wading in pools and streams of water, where she
knew they would lose the scent and be thrown off
her trail. One time, however, she heard the deep
baying of the bloodhounds coming toward her,
when she was some distance from any water. There
was no way of escape and she knew they would
soon come up with her, and perhaps tear her to
pieces before the pursuers could reach them. In
this dire extremity, she fell on her knees and asked
God to preserve her — to give her some sign of his
protecting power ; then, with all fear gone, she rose
to her feet and calmly watched the dogs approach.
As they came near, she took from her pocket a
handful of crumbs — the remainder of the food she
had brought — and held them out toward the hounds.
They came up to her, but instead of seizing and
mangling her, they gamboled about her, licked the
crumbs from her hands, then ran off through the
forest.

This remarkable preservation she felt was the
sign she had asked of God, and, falling on her knees
once more, she dedicated herself wholly to him,
vowing that if she reached Canada, the rest of her
life should be devoted solely and entirely to his ser-
vice. She had a long journey after that, lasting for
several months, and encountered many dangers, but

2S6

REMINISCENCES,

was preserved safe through them all. She traveled
at night and hid in the thickets during the day,
living mostly on fruit and green corn, but venturing
now and then to call at negro huts and beg for a
little of the scanty food which they afforded. When
she came to rivers and streams of water too deep
for wading, she made rafts of logs or poles, tied
together with grape-vines or hickory withs, and
poled or paddled herself across as best she could.
Reaching Illinois, she met with kind people who
aided her on to Detroit, Michigan. Here also she
found friends and was ferried across to Canada. A
colored minister who witnessed her arrival says that,
on landing, she fell on her knees and kissed the shore,
and thanked the Lord for his wonderful mercy in
preserving her through so many dangers and bring-
ing her at last to the land of freedom. She then
arose and jumped up and down for half an hour,
shouting praises to God and seeming almost delir-
ious in her great joy. We were informed that she
was a devoted Christian worker, and was earnestly
endeavoring to fulfill her vows and promises to the
Lord.

AUNT busy's dream.

The following story was related to us at Amherst-
burg, by a negro woman. She had been a slave in
South Carolina, and though she had longed all her
life to be free, no opportunity for escape had pre-
sented itself At last, when she was approaching
middle age and was the mother of several children,
she was taken to one of the Northern States, by her
master and mistress, who went there on a visit.

A UNT SUSIE'S DREA M. 257

She ran away from them, and by the aid of kind
people on the way reached Canada in safety. She
rejoiced to think she was free, and would have been
perfectly content in her new home had not the
tliought of her two children in bondage troubled her.
Their images were constantly before her during her
waking hours, and in dreams she sought them in
their Southern home.

One night she dreamed that she was gifted with
the power of flight, and soared over the long dis-
tance that separated her from the objects of her
love. She alighted near her children and was en-
tranced in the joy of a happy meeting, when their
master approached and tried to take them from her.
She placed one on each of her wings, and, rising
high in the air, flew back to Canada. Her heart
was so full of joy at this fulfillment of her dearest
hopes that she shouted aloud. With the shouting
she awoke, and realized that she was still bereaved,
but gathered comfort from her dream, regarding it as
an omen that her children would be restored to her.
The following lines were written by an English lady,
to whom I related this incident, in the year 1864,
when on a mission to England in behalf of the
Freedmen :

A mother was sleeping,
• Yet silently weeping,
And sorrow stole over her heart like a wave ;

For while liberty blest her

The feeling oppressed her
That her children were still in the land of the slave.

258

REMINISCENCES.

A mysterious power,

Had seized her that hour,
And her once timid heart had grown fearless and brave;

And regardless of dangers.

Of bloodhounds and rangers,
Undaunted she flies to the land of the slave.

Far, far to the southward,

Her flight is still onward,
From Canada's shore, by Ontario's wave;

To the warm plains outspreading,

Where the planter is treading,
That land which is known as the land of the slave.

How her pulses are swelling !

In her old cottage dwelling.
She beholds the two girls she has come there to save;

And, embracing, doth tell them,

That no one shall sell them.
She'll bear them away from the land of the slave.

The children caress her.

And smiling address her —
** Dear mother ! you come to snatch us from the grave !

For our master has told us

This day he has sold us.
To the lonesome rice swamps of the land of the slave. *•

Then gently that mother

Lifted one and the other
Upon those soft pinions, so mighty to save ;

Her children upraising.

While the master stood gazing,
She bears far away from the land of the slave !

The mother was sleeping.

At an end was her weeping.
And loud was the shout of rejoicing she gave ;

But alas ! on awaking,

The vision forsaking.
Her children were still in the land of the slave.

THE STORY OF JACKSON, • 259

Oh ! yc English mothers,

Ye sisters and brothers.
Who love the free children whom Providence gave;

Now, without stint or measure,

Give for those, from your treasure,
Whose children are still in the land of the slava

THE STORY OF JACKSON

We heard from his own lips, while visiting at his
house in Canada. He had formerly been the prop-
erty of a man living in Kentucky, who found him to
be a trusty servant, and frequently sent him on busi-
ness errands some distance away. Jackson was
married to a woman who was the property of
another man, but his master hired her time, and the
husband and wife were permitted to live together.
They had one child at the time the story begins.

One day Jackson was sent away to a distant mar-
ket with his master's team, and while he was gone
his wife and child were sold by their master to a
Southern trader, who removed them to a place
about thirty miles distant, where the gang of slaves
was gathered, preparatory to starting South the
next day. The wife, torn so suddenly from her
home, was frantic with distress, and prayed to God
to trouble her husband's heart that he might know
something was wrong, and come to her rescue. Her
prayer was answered, for her husband had a strong
presentiment on the day mentioned that all was not
well at home, and not being able to account for it,
hastened his return and learned the facts. Taking
two of his master's horses that nicjht. he started in
pursuit ; rode all night and just before daybreak

26o • REMINISCENCES.

reached the place where his wife was. She hjid
slept none, but had prayed through all the hours of
darkness, and so confident was she that her prayer
would be answered that as she lay in the cabin with
the rest of the gang of slaves, she kept her head
turned in the direction whence her husband would
come, and listened intently for the sound of his
horses' feet. When she did hear him, she took her
child in her arms, slipped out quietly in the dark,
and joined him. There was no time for explanation
or rejoicing then ; they were still in the midst of
danger and must fly to a place of safety before they
uttered the feelings of their full hearts. Mounting
the horses, and riding at full speed, they made some
distance before the growing light of coming day
warned them to s^ick a hiding-place. They con-
cealed themselves in the woods all that day, and
pursued their journey northward during the night.
Finally, they reached the banks of the Ohio River,
and leaving the horses, they crossed to the other
side, where they found friends who directed them
on their way. In the northern part of Ohio, they
stopped in a quiet settlement, where the people
were abolitionists. Here they had a good situation
offered them, and thinking they would be safe from
pursuit in this secluded neighborhood, they accept-
ed the offer and went to work.

Here they remained several years, very happy in
their humble home, and here two more children
were born to them. By their industrious habits
and good conduct they gained the esteem of those
around them, and seemed secure in the protection

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went at full speed. The nustor aiul hi^ jh^xm* p\»»
sued them, but in \-ain. laoksoi) ,uul hi^ lanuiv
were conveyed to the lake that ni^ht» an\l p\U oh
board a steamer. Thev crossed s,ifoh to l\uui\lai
and made their home in Gostield County,

262 REMINISCENCES.

At the time he related this story, Jackson was
living on land of his own, in a house erected by the
industry of himself and family, and surrounded by
peace and prosperity. He and his wife often related
to their children the story of their early hardship
and suffering, and when they contrasted their pres-
ent with their former lot their hearts overflowed
with gratitude to God for his protecting and guiding
care.

A MOTHER RESCUES HER CHILDREN.

While at Fort Maiden, on Lake Erie, we heard
of a brave woman named Armstrong, who had
recently gone back to Kentucky and rescued five of
her children from slavery. We were anxious to see
her and hear the story from her own lips, and ac-
cordingly visited her at her home in Colchester,
about ten miles below Maiden. She was a portly,
fine-looking woman, and we were much impressed
with the noble expression of her countenance. She
told us that about two years before she and her
husband, with their youngest child, a babe a few
months old, made their escape from Kentucky.
Their home in that State was about ten miles from
the Ohio River, at a point opposite Ripley, the
home of that worthy divine and noted abolitionist,
John Rankin. After crossing the river, they found
friends who helped them on their way to Canada.

They gained freedom for themselves, but they
were not happy ; they had left seven children in
slavery. The mother wept and prayed over their
fate, and planned continually how they might be
rescued. She felt that she must make some attempt

CBILDREN RESCUED. 263

to bring them away, but her husband thought of the
risk and danger attending such an effort on her part,
and tried to dissuade her from going. She said : ' * I
inquired of the Lord concerning the matter. I
prayed most all night, and the Lord seemed to say,

•Go.'

' ' Next morning I told my husband I was going,
that the Lord would go with me and help me. I
had all my plans laid ; I dressed in men*s clothes,
and started. I went to our friends in Ohio, and had
all the arrangements made for a skiff to come over
to the Kentucky side. I took by-ways and through
fields to old master's farm, and got there in the early
part of the night. I hid myself near the spring,
and watched for my children, for I knew some of
them would come to get water. I had not been
there long before my eldest daughter came. I called
her name in a low voice, and when she started up
and looked round, I told her not to be afraid, that I
was her mother. I soon convinced her, and her
alarm passed away. I then told her my plans, and
she said she could bring the rest of the children to
me when master and mistress got to sleep. The
night was very dark, and that favored our plans. She
brought all the children to me but two ; they were
sleeping in the room with old master and mistress,
who had gone to bed, and she could not get them
out without raising the alarm. I started with the
five, and hastened back to the river as fast as we
could ^o in the dark. We found the skiff waiting
fr^r iiq and soon crossed. On the other side, a
wagon was ready to take us in, and the man with it

264

REMINISCENCES,

drove us a few miles to a depot of the Underground
Railroad. Here we were secreted during the follow-
ing day, and next night were forwarded on to
another station, and so on from station to station
till we reached Sandusky, where we were put on
board the Mayflower — called the Abolition Boat.
We landed safely at Fort Maiden two weeks ago,
and are out of old massa's reach now. The Lord
did help me, and blessed be his holy name!"

She said she had made arrangements with her
friends in Ohio, living near the river, to try to get
her two other children and send them to her, and
she had faith that they would succeed.

THE FREE LABOjR QUESTION.

26s

CHAPTER VIII.

FREE LABOR — TESTIMONY OF JOHN WOOLMAN AND
OTHERS — MY CONVICTIONS — FREE-LABOR SOCIETIES
OF NEW YORK AND PHILADELPHIA — OUR ORGANI-
ZATION IN THE WEST — REMOVAL TO CINCINNATI —
FREE-LABOR BUSINESS — SOUTHERN COTTON PRO-
DUCED BY FREE LABOR — INCIDENTS OF A SOUTH-
ERN TRIP INTERVIEWS WITH SLAVEHOLDERS.

FOR several years my mind had been deeply
impressed with the inconsistency of abolition-
ists partaking indiscriminately of the unpaid toil
of the slave. I thought that to be consistent in
bearing testimony against slavery, we should dis-
courage unpaid labor and encourage paid labor as
far as practicable. I knew, however, that it would
be very difficult to abstain entirely from the prod-
ucts of slave labor. I was then engaged in mer-
cantile business — retailing dry -goods and groceries, a
large portion of which was produced by slave labor,
and I knew of no facilities for obtaining free-labor
goods. I had heard Charles Osborne, a worthy
minister of the Society of Friends, express his sen-
timents on the subject, and they made a deep im-
pression on my mind. Charles Osborne had long
been a consistent and thorough abolitionist, and was

266 REMINISCENCES,

the editor of the first anti-slavery paper published in
America — so far as I have any knowledge — which
advocated immediate and unconditional emancipa-
tion. The paper was called the Philanthropist^ and
was published at Mount Pleasant, Ohio, in i8i6.
The statement that this was the first paper favoring
immediate and unconditional emancipation may be
called in question by some, as the Genius of Univer-
sal Emancipaiiony published by Benjamin Lundy, in
East Tennessee, has long had the credit of being
the first. But I know that the statement I make is
correct. Benjamin Lundy was a journeyman printer
under Charles Osborne, in Mount Pleasant, and went
from that office to East Tennessee. He was accom-
panied by Charles Osborne's son Isaiah, who aided
him in printing the Genius of Universal Emancipa-
tion, The Philanthropist was also the first paper
ever published in the United States, which promul-
gated the doctrine of the impropriety of using the
products of slavery.

In a printed address to the Society of Friends,
written many years after his removal to the State of
Indiana, Charles Osborne makes the following re-
marks : **On whom has the mantle of Woolman
fallen ? We have approved and admired his course
on the subject of slavery for more than half a cen-
tury, but with a few exceptions we have halted and
stumbled at the most essential part of his Christian
testimony: that of abstaining from the gains of
oppression." This subject was discussed by promi-
nent abolitionists of Ohio and Indiana, and a paper
called the Free Labor Advocate was established at

THE FREE LABOR QUESTION. 267

Newport, Indiana. It was edited by Benjamin Stan-
ton, and the subject of free labor was ably advocated
in its columns.

About the year 1844 I became so strongly im-
pressed with the horrors of slavery, and its results,
which were ever before me, that I was led to reflect
more deeply on the subject than I had done before,
and to view it in all its practical bearings. I read
the testimony of John Woolman and other writers,
and became convinced that it was wrong to use the
product of slave labor. I felt that it was inconsistent
to condemn slaveholders for withholding from their
fellow-men their just, natural and God-given rights,
and then, by purchasing the fruits of the labor of
their slaves, give them the strongest motive for con-
tinuing their wickedness and oppression. Knowing
so well the sad realities of life on the Southern plan-
tations,' I felt that in purchasing and using cloth
made from cotton, grown by slaves, I made use of a
product which had been planted by an oppressed
laborer, fanned by sighs, watered with tears, and
perhaps dressed with the blood of the victim. The
words of John Woolman found an echo in my heart:
**Seed sown with the tears of a confined, oppressed
people — harvests cut down by an overborne, discon-
tented reaper, make bread less sweet to the taste of
an honest man, than that which is the produce or
just reward of such voluntary action as is a proper
part of the business of human creatures."

The free States furnished a good market for the
products of the South, and made slave labor valu-
able to the master. If it had not been so, then

268 REMINISCENCES.

John Randolph's prophecy would have been fulfilled
— the slave would not have run away from his mas-
ter, but the master from his slaves, for they would
have been a burden and expense to him. The
object of the slaveholder was to make money by
selling the cotton, sugar, etc., produced by his
slaves, and without a market for these he would
have been deprived of the great motive for holding
the negroes in bondage. Northern consumers, by
their demand for articles thus produced, stimulated
the system by which they were produced, and fur-
nished the strongest incentive for its continuance.

I felt by purchasing the products of slave labor, I
was lending my individual encouragement to the
system by which, in order to get their labor without
wages, the slaves were robbed of everything else.
In the language of Charles Stuart: *' Their bodies
are stolen, their liberty, their right to their wives
and children, their right to cultivate their minds and
to worship God as they please, their reputation,
hope, all virtuous motives, are taken away by a
legalized system of most merciless and consummate
iniquity. Such is the expense at which articles pro-
duced by slave labor are attained. They are always
heavy with the groans and often met with the blood
>f the guiltless and suffering poor." '*If our moral
sense would revolt at holding a slave ourselves and
using his unpaid labor, it should also revolt at using
his unpaid toil when held by another."

With these strong convictions, I determined, as a
matter of conscience, to abstain so far as I could
from the products of slavery, and in my business to

THE FliEE LABOR QUESTION. 269

and sell, so far as possible, only the products
labor. I had learned that there had been
a^->ociations formed at Philadephia and New York,
which were manufacturing goods of free-labor cot-
ton, and that they had obtained free-labor groceries
from the British West Indies, and other countries,
where slavery did not exist. I decided to go to
Philadelphia and New York, and ascertain how the
business of these associations was managed —
whether it was a mere speculation to make money
or was conducted on conscientious principles, and
whether the goods purchased were really the prod-
ucts of free-labor. When I arrived at Philadelphia
and made inquiries, I found that the business was
conducted by such men as Enoch Lewis, Abraham
L. Pennock, Samuel Rhodes, George W. Taylor,
James Mott, James Miller McKim, Charles Wise,
etc. These were all prominent abolitionists, and
well known as conscientious men of high reputa-
tions; many of them were leading members of
the religious Society of P^riends. They had erected
a cotton factory, which was conducted by George
W. Taylor. I found that instead of making money
at it, they were carrying on the business at a heavy
sacrifice, being actuated solely by conscientious
principles. The cotton they were manufacturing
was obtained from Friends' settlements in North
Carolina. I was personally acquainted with their
agents in that State who obtained it for them, and
knew them to be reliable men. After becoming
fully satisfied that there was no deception, that from
the field to the factory the cotton could be relied

a. _, «• ._ ^«. _ L

270 REMINISCENCES.

upon as the product of free labor, I purchased as
good an assortment of cotton goods as I could ob-
tain. The assortment was -not extensive; in prints
particularly it was quite limited. The goods were
mostly staple articles that afforded little profit.

I next went to New York, and found the business
there conducted by such men as Robert Lindley
Murray, Lindley M. Hoag, and other equally reli-
able and conscientious men. They dealt mostly
in free-labor groceries, West-India sugar, molasses,
coffee, etc., and had arrangements for obtaining
free-labor rice, indigo, and other articles. They also
kept Laguira, Mocha, and other coffee, the product
of free labor. Here I purchased my groceries,
though at a higher price than I had been accustomed
to pay for slave products. The assortment of free-
labor goods obtainable was so limited and the prices
of so many articles higher, that I knew my profits
would be curtailed, and I would lose many of my
customers. In addition to the heavy pecuniary
sacrifice I would sustain, I expected to meet with
opposition and ridicule, though I knew that the free-
labor subject had taken deep hold of the minds of
many abolitionists in my own and other neighbor-
hoods, and that many who desired to bear a faithful
testimony against slavery wished to get a supply o<
the products of free labor.

Cotton yarn was then much used among the
farmers in the West in making jeans, linseys, etc.,
for their own wear. This article I could not obtain
from the Philadelphia cotton mills, as they only made
warp for their own manufactures. To obviate this

THE FREE LABOR QUESTION. 27 1

difficulty, I purchased a bale of their free-labor cot-
ton and shipped it to Indiana, and prevailed on a
Friend, who owned a small cotton mill near Rich-
mond, to clear his machinery of other cotton, and
make this bale into warp for me. I obtained, after-
ward, a larger supply of cotton, and visited the cot-
ton mills at Dayton and Hamilton, hoping to get it
manufactured separately. I at first met with diffi-
culties, for the proprietors were not willing to clear
out their machinery, but the foreman of one of the
mills at Hamilton was an abolitionist, who felt an
interest in promoting the cause, and he agreed to
do the work for me, though it entailed additional
labor.

Beside the many obstacles I had to encounter in
obeying the dictates of my conscience on this sub-
ject, I had to contend with innumerable discourage-
ments, and to endure much ridicule. I had to meet
the arguments of the pro-slavery party, but I also
had the support of many warm friends, who har-
monized with me and encouraged me in the work,
and who were willing, at any sacrifice, to abstain
from the use of slave-labor products. In my own
neighborhood such prominent men of our society as
Daniel Puckett, Benjamin Thomas, Samuel Charles,
Jonathan Hough, Dr. Henry H Way, Benjamin
Stanton, and many others, were warm advocates of
free labor, and in other neighborhoods I had many
true friends, such as William Beard, Jacob Grave,
Daniel Worth, and others.

My custom was confined measurably to abolition-
ists, and the supply of free-labor goods that could

272

REATTNISCENCES.

be obtained was inadequate to meet the demand.
Better facilities for supplying the demand were
much needed. The free-labor subject had been
agitated in various communities of anti-slavery peo-
ple, and by this time the principles involved in it
had become widely known and had been adopted
by many in various parts of the Western States.
In Ohio and Indiana conventions were held for the
purpose of devising some plan whereby free-labor
goods could be supplied to all who desired to use
them.

In Ohio, such men as Thomas Morris, Samuel
Lewis, Dr. William H. Brisbane, Dr. G. Bailey,
and John Joliff, had taken an interest in the subject.
Several plans were suggested, but as no suitable
person could be found to carry them ou* they were
abandoned.

In the autumn of 1846, a union convention of
those interested in the subject of free labor was
held in Friends' Meeting-House at Salem, Union
County, Indiana. It was largely attended by
prominent men of Ohio and Indiana. From Cincin-
nati came Dr. Brisbane, John Joliff, Edward Har-
wood, ThomcLS Franklin, and others.

The convention held two days and during that
time the subject was ably discussed. A resolution
was passed to raise a fund of thee thousand dollars
to be loaned for five years, without interest, to some
suitable person for the purpose of enabling him to
open a wholesale depository of free-labor goods at
Cincinnati. A committee was appointed to select
the person, and to report his name to the conven-

THE FREE LABOR qUESTION. 273

tion the next day. The committee made choice of
me and reported my name to the meeting. The
resolution appointing me to the position was carried
by acclamation, but I could not give my consent to
accept the position. I thought it would prove too
great a sacrifice to me to **puH up stakes" and
move to Cincinnati. I had lived in Newport twenty
years, and was much attached to my house and to
my friends and acquaintances there. A few years
before I had built a dwelling-house, taking much
pains to make it comfortable and convenient in all
its appointments, with the expectation of occupying
it as long as I lived. Neither I nor my wife thought
that we would like city life, so notwithstanding the
deep interest I felt in the concern, I declined to
accept the position.

The committee was continued for the purpose of
finding some suitable person who would undertake
to carry out the proposed plan, and individuals of
different neighborhoods were appointed to raise the
fund of three thousand dollars, by soliciting sub-
scriptions from those who were interested in the
subject. But the committee did not succeed in
finding a suitable person to undertake the business,
and again applied to me and urged me strongly to
go to Cincinnati and open the desired depository.

During the winter I received many letters from
different parts of the country soliciting me to engage
in the proposed business. I was thought to be the
most suitable person to engage in such an undertak-
ing as I had already had several years' experience in
dealing in free-labor goods at Newport. I finally

274

REMINISCENCES,

consented to go to Cincinnati for five years, and try
the experiment. I sold out my busine.ss at New-
port, rented my house and moved to Cincinnati the
twenty-second day of April, 1847, having previously
rented a store and dwelling-house in the city.

We fully expected to return to our home in New-
port at the expiration of five years, or sooner, hop-
ing that some suitable person would be found to
take the business off my hands and continue it. I
went to Philadelphia and New York that spring and
purchased as good an assortment of free-labor cot-
ton goods and groceries as could be obtained. The
demand for such articles was increasing, and the
Philadelphia Association had enlarged their business
and were furnishing a better supply of cotton goods.
Beside selling their own manufactures, they were
obtaining from England a finer quality of cotton
goods than their own mills furnished. The English
goods were manufactured at Manchester under the
auspices of a free-labor association, and could be
relied upon as being the product of free labor.

I opened the store in Cincinnati and sent out
printed circulars, which were widely circulated by
friends of the enterprise. Orders from various parts
of the West soon began to come in — far exceeding
my meager assortment of cotton goods. I had not
been able to obtain a sufficient supply of brown
muslins, sheeting, cotton yarn, carpet warp, etc.
This difficulty I knew might be remedied if I could
obtain a supply of cotton, for there were several
cotton mills in this vicinity that manufactured yam,
wicking, twine, batting, etc. Having been reared

THE FREE LABOR QUESTION. 275

in the South and having acquaintances in nearly all
the cotton-growing States, I knew that there were
many settlements there of the poorer class of farm-
ers who owned no slaves and hired none, part of
them doing this from principle, part of them because
they were too poor to do otherwise. These small
farmers generally raised from one to ten bales of
cotton for market ; a few raised larger quantities. I
learned through correspondence that a good supply
of free-labor cotton could be obtained from this class
of people, and resolved to avail myself of the oppor-
tunity thu<? afforded. The previous winter, Nathan.
Thomas, a worthy member of the Society of Friends,
who lived near Newport, Indiana, had gone with his
wife to spend the winter with some of her relatives
living near Holly Springs, Mississippi. Pleasant
Diggs, the uncle of Nathan Thomas' wife, with
whom they spent most of the time, had been reared
in a neighborhood of Friends and was opposed to
slavery. He owned no slaves and hired none, and
the cotton which he raised was the product of free
labor. Knowing Nathan Thomas to be interested
in the free-labor cause, I requested him to ascertain
if cotton could be obtained in that part of the State,
which could be relied upon to be clear of slave
labor. He wrote me that a large quantity was
raised by free labor, but that it had all been ginned
and baled by slave labor, as none of the farmers in
that neighborhood owned a cotton gin. He added
that he knew of other neighborhoods, in that
county, where free-labor cotton was raised.

I corresponded with Samuel Rhodes, of Philadel-

2^6 REMimSCENCES.

phia, concerning the information I had received

from Nathan Thnmas, and informed him that Will-
iam MtCray, who lived near Holly Springs, Missis-
sippi, a sonin-law of Pleasant Diggs, made about
thirty bales of cotton annually, cuilivated entirely
by free labor, and that he was willing to put up a
gin and gin his own and his neighbors' cotton by
free labor, if we would furnish him tlie gin and
allow him to pay for it in cotton.

I suggested that the Philadelphia Association
should join me in this enterprise, for I believed they
could obtain a larger supply and a better quality of
cotton than they got from North Carolina, and per-
haps at less cost. The subject was brought before
the board, and an agreement was at once made. I
was authorized to purchase a cotton gin and
ship it to William McCray, of Mississippi. I at
once applied to James Pierce, of Cincinnati, who
manufactured cotton gins for the South, and pur-
chased an excellent thirty-saw gin for ^300, and
shipped it immediately that it might be put up at
once, and be ready for use in the fall.

The Philadelphia Association authorized me to
employ Nathan Thomas as our agent to go South,
next winter, to see that all the arrangements made
with the cotton planters were strictly carried out.
The second winter that Nathan Thomas spe nt in tl
South, hr was authorized by the Phj
Labor Association to travel throng
Southwestern States, and hunt 1
of small farmers and ascertiiin
labor cotton could be

THE FREE-LABOR qUESTION. 277

through parts of Mississippi, Tennessee, Louisiana,
Texas and Arkansas, and gave the information he
obtained in a series of letters, which were afterward
published by the managers of the Free-Labor Asso-
ciation of Ohio Yearly Meeting.

The gin I shipped to William McCray proved to
be an excellent one, and was known in that part of
the country as the "Abolition Gin," Arrangements
were made to purchase alt *the free-labor cotton in
reach of that gin, and other arrangements were
made by which it could be hauled to Memphis — the
nearest shipping point free of slave labor. At
Memphis it was to be delivered to a commission
merchant, formerly of Philadelphia, who employed
no slave labor, and who was recommended by Sam-
uel Rhodes, and others, as a reliable man. This
^merchant shipped the cotton up the river by boats
that employed no slaves. By these means large
quantities of free cotton were sent from the South,
and we obtained a full supply. The Philadelphia
Association was enabled to ship cotton to the Man-
chester mills in England in exchanfjc for a finer class
of goods than they were making, and I was supplied
with all the cotton I could purchase, for manufac-
tiirinj; at Cincinnati. I had made arrangements
with Gould. Pearce & Co , of Cincinnati, to spin
cotton yarn, carpet warp, twine and candle wicking,
1 with Stearns & Foster to make batting and wad-
^^tton which I furnished. Aftcr\vard,
i Co. to put up looms and
dition to the other

m^i

278

REMINISCENCES.

When these arrangements were completed and
the work in operation, I furnished the Philadelphia
and New York Associations with heavy brown mus-
lins, cotton yam, carpet warp, twine, wicking, bat-
ting and wadding in exchange for their goods, for
several years. 1 was authorized by the Philadelphia
Association to employ Nathan Thomas to spend the
third winter in the South to superintend the cotton
business — to see that -all the arrangements were
carried out, and to engage the next year's crop of
cotton in various localities. In engaging cotton,
Nathan Thomas always promised to give the market
price and no more, thus affording no advantage to
the producer which would prove a motive for decep-
tion. Suitable persons were appointed agents in
the different neighborhoods to receive the cotton
and pay for it, and the producers were thus saved
the trouble and expense of hauling it to a distant
market. We also had arrangements for shipping
from Hamburg and Eastport, on the Tennessee
River.

The next year I traveled over part of the same
ground, visiting free-labor neighborhoods in Hardin
and McNairy Counties, Tennessee, and Tishomingo
County, Mississippi. I found quite a number of
settlers from Guilford County, North Carolina, and
being acquainted with some of their relatives in that
locality, I was kindly received and made welcome
among them. I talked freely on the subject of
slavery, explaining Friends' • principles and testi-
mony in regard to slavery and war, and dealing in
or unnecessarily using intoxicating liquors. Strong

THE FREE-LABOR qVESTION.

379

drink seemed to be much in use in that part of the
country. I also explained the feelings and views
of many Friends and other conscientious people in
the North in regard to the use of the unpaid toil of
the slave. 1 talked freely with many slaveholders
on these subjects, and was kindly treated by them.
Many of them understood something of the prin-
ciples of Quakers regarding slavery, and discovering
from my dress and language that I was a Quaker,
they seemed disposed to talk freely and asked many
questions.

I explained our principles to them as well as I
could, and said that wc bore a testimony against
slavery in our Discipline, and that no person could
be a member of our society who owned a slave. I
told them that I was a Southern man, having been
born and brought up in North Carolina, in the midst
of slavery, and was well acquainted with the system.
I was and always had been opposed to slavery, but
it was no part of my business, in the South, to inter-
fere with their laws or their slaves, I was attending
to my own affairs, and did not intend to busy my-
self with other matters.

shipped these articles u
Tennessee River, and as
travelers, we took on a number of
ferent points. They were all
rious places in Tennessee, Mi

of the best on the
a populac b

278

REMINISCENCES,

When these arrangements were completed and
the work in operation, I furnished the Philadelphia
and New York Associations with heavy brown mus-
lins, cotton yarn, carpet warp, twine, wicking, bat-
ting and wadding in exchange for their goods, for
several years. 1 was authorized by the Philadelphia
Association to employ Nathan Thomas to spend the
third winter in the South to superintend the cotton
business — to see that -all the arrangements were
carried out, and to engage the next year's crop of
cotton in various localities. In engaging cotton,
Nathan Thomas always promised to give the market
price and no more, thus affording no advantage to
the producer which would prove a motive for decep-
tion. Suitable persons were appohited agents in
the different neighborhoods to receive the cotton
and pay for it, and the producers were thus saved
the trouble and expense of hauling it to a distant
market. We also had arrangements for shipping
from Hamburg and Eastport, on the Tennessee
River.

The next year I traveled over part of the same
ground, visiting free-labor neighborhoods in Hardin
and McNairy Counties, Tennessee, and Tishomingo
County, Mississippi. I found quite a number of
settlers from Guilford County, North Carolina, and
being acquainted with some of their relatives in that
locality, I was kindly received and made welcome
among them. I talked freely on the subject of
slavery, explaining Friends' principles and testi-
mony in regard to slavery and war, and dealing in
or unnecessarily using intoxicating liquors. Strong

THE FREE-LABOR qVESTION. 279

drink seemed to be much in use in that part of the
country. I also explained the feelings and views
of many Friends and other conscientious people in
the North in regard to the use of the unpaid toil of
the slave. I talked freely with many slaveholders
on these subjects, and was kindly treated by them.
Many of them understood something of the prin-
ciples of Quakers regarding slavery, and discovering
from my dress and language that I was a Quaker,
they seemed disposed to talk freely and asked many
questions.

I explained our principles to them as well as I
could, and said that we bore a testimony against
slavery in our Discipline, and that no person could
be a member of our society who owned a slave. I
told them that I was a Southern man, having been
born and brought up in North Carolina, in the midst
of slavery, and was well acquainted with the system.
I was and always had been opposed to slavery, but
it was no part of my business, in the South, to inter-
fere with their laws or their slaves. I was attending
to my own affairs, and did not intend to busy my-
self with other matters.

I had shipped to Eastport, Mississippi, and Ham-
burg, Tennessee — the points from which our cotton
was shipped North — a quantity of flour, cheese and
other produce. The boat on board which I had
shipped these articles was one of the best on the
Tennessee River, and as it was a popular boat for
travelers, we took on a number of passengers at dif-
ferent points. They were all Southerners, from va-
rious places in Tennessee, Mississippi and Alabama,

28o REMINISCENCES,

and most of them were merchants who had been to
Louisville to replenish their stock of goods. The
majority of them were slaveholders, but they ap-
peared to be a very civil and gentlemanly set of
men. Several of them seemed disposed to make my
acquaintance and to find out who and what I' was,
whence I came and whither I was going. I was
aware that Northern men were watched with jealous
eyes in the South.

I made myself sociable with the passengers, and
when they learned that I was from Cincinnati, and
had a large cargo of produce on board which I was
shipping to Eastport and other points to sell or
exchange for cotton, and that I was brought up in
the South, and had many relatives and acquaint-
ances there, their jealous suspicions seemed to be
entirely removed and they treated me with much
respect. Different ones politely invited me to drink
with them, according to the fashion prevalent in the
South, but I declined, saying that I was a temper-
ance man and used no liquor, except as medicine.

In the course of our journey I talked freely on the
subject of slavery, speaking of its evil influences
and my conscientious convictions in regard to it.
On one occasion I got into a warm debate with one
of the passengers by the name of Bell. He was a
merchant of Farmington, Mississippi, and a member
of the Legislature of that State.

I had given him and several others my business
card, which bore my name and the words, ** Commis-
sion merchant and dealer in free-labor cotton goods
and groceries." He asked me what ** Free-labor

THE FREE^LABOR QUESTION. 28 1

cotton goods" meant. I told him it meant just
what it said — goods produced by free labor, and
went on to say that I dealt exclusively in such
goods, and was then on my way South to collect
free-labor cotton.

He became excited and angry, and began to ask
questions. I explained to him calmly the whole
free-labor subject, speaking of the class of men in
the free SbUes who were interested in it, and my
own conFC'< ntious convictions that induced me to
engage in the work. I told him that many of our
best citi .ciis, both East and West, who believed
that 5>iaY2ry was wrong and who felt for those in
bonds is bound with them, had come to the conclu-
sion that they could not consistently partake of the
unpaid labor of the slave, and that this feeling was
largely on the increase. This brought up the whole
subject of slavery. Bell advocated it excitedly, and
said that he would not live in a free State, that the
blacks were made to serve and the whites to govern,
etc., and went on to give the usual pro-slavery argu-
ments.

Most pf the passengers had gathered round us
by this time to hear the debate. I spoke of the
evils of slavery, of its horrors and cruelties, many
of which I had witnessed myself while living in the
South — the separation of husbands and wives, par-
ents and children, etc. I dwelt largely upon the
deleterious effects of slavery on the white popu-
lation of the South, the disregard of marriage
bonds, the license which slavery afforded, etc. I
referred to .several instances which had come under
24

2g2 EEMINISCENCES.

my notice in North Carolina, where men of high
political and social standing had lived with their
slave women and reared families of mulatto children.
I said that I had always been opposed to amalgama-
tion, which was the direct result of slavery. I re-
ferred to the slaves of mixed blood whom we saw
ill every part of the South, and spoke of the com-
mon practice of fathers selling their own children. I
then gave him an instance which came under my
personal observation. A planter of Mississippi,
named William Thompson, had come to Cincinnati
a few years before, bringing with him fourteen of his
slaves, all his own children and grandchildren, and
the slave woman with whom he had lived, the
mother of his children. He had sold one of his
cotton farms, and wished to buy land in a free State
and settle his children where they would be safe
after his death. He was referred to me for advice
regarding a suitable place to locate, and I directed
him to a colored settlement in Darke County, Ohio,
where land could be bought at a reasonabte price,
and where his children could have the benefit of a
good school. He went to that locality, bought a
farm and saw his people comfortably settled.

He then returned to Mississippi, and the next
year sold his other farm and brought another com-
pany of slaves to Ohio, among whom was a middle-
aged colored woman, with five or six yellow chil-
dren, whom he acknowledged to be his own. He
bought land for this party, and lived among them.
Thompson claimed to be a member of the Baptist

VISIT TO TEE SOUTH. 283

Church. This, I said, is the state of morals which
slavery produces.

I then referred Bell to another instance in his own
State. Major William Phillips, a wealthy cotton
planter, who lived near Yazoo City, Mississippi, was
a gentleman of high social standing, and was for
some years a member of the legislature. His white
children were grown and settled in homes of their
own when he lost his wife. He married a second
wife, lived with her a few years, then separated from
her, giving her a farm and a few negroes. He then
took one of his own slaves, a young mulatto woman,
and kept her as his wife. He had several children
by her, and concluding that he wanted them to be
free, he sold his plantation and one hundred and
thirty of his slaves, and brought hi^ slave woman
and her children to Cincinnati. He purchased a
valuable piece of property on Broadway, where he
now lives, professing to keep the mulatto woman as
a hired servant. His children attend school, which
they would not be allowed to do in your State. I
have been told that two of his sons, who live in the
South, have followed their father's example and
keep slave women for wives.

By this time my friend Bell had become quite
calm, and did not attempt to contradict my state-
ments. An old gentleman from Alabama, a slave-
holder, who sat near by, spoke several times during
the debate, confirming my statements in regard to
the evils of slavery. The company that had gath-
ered rouFHi seemed to listen to the conversation
with interest. I endeavored to speak with modcra-

2g4 REMINISCENCES.

tion, maintaining at the same time my independence
and my riglit as an American citizen to express my
conscientious convictions.

The gentleman from Alabama said that he be-
lieved slavery was a curse to the South, and that he
would be willing to give up his slaves at any time if
they could be properly provided for.

After this discussion, Bell became very sociable,
and finding that I expected to travel in his county,
he invited me to call and see him, offering me the
hospitality of his home. I told him that if I should
be in his neighborhood I would accept his invita-
tion.

At Hamburg. Tennessee, I stored a part of my
produce with William Campbell, a merchant, and
went on to Eastport, thirty miles farther, where I
discharged the rest of my freight. The next day I
returned to Hamburg, and stopped at a tavern in
that village. On the Sabbath I inquired if there
was any church in the place, and was directed to a
Miithodist church, in the edge of the town, where
there was to be preaching that day. I found the
meeting-house to be a log cabin, with nothing to fill
the cracks between the logs. The congregation
consisted of eight or ten white people, half a dozen
negroes, and several dogs. The men all chewed
tobacco and spit on the floor, the women dipped
snuff, and the dogs quarrek'd and fought with each
other. The sermon was good, but no one seemed
impressed by it except an old negro woman, who
sobbed aloud and rocked herself to and fro. After
meeting, the minister invited me to go home with

VISIT TO THE SOUTH. 285

him and spend the night. He lived four miles on
the road I had to travel the next day, so I accepted
his kind invitation. I inquired of the landlord where
I could procure a horse to use a week or two, and
he said I could have one of his. I asked him if he
was not afraid to trust a stranger, and he replied:
*'I am not afraid to trust a Quaker.'' I thanked
him for his kind offer, but thought he might be de-
ceived by wolves in sheep's clothing.

I went home with the preacher, and spent the
night at his house very pleasantly. He owned no
slaves, and said that he had always been opposed to
slavery, although he had been reared in the South.
Some of his neighbors were slaveholders, and that
night when we were talking on the subject of
slavery, he lowered his voice, and spoke in a sub-
dued tone. I asked him why he did so, and he
replied :

"You are a stranger here, and we do not know
who may be eavesdropping and listening to our
conversation." The night was dark and rainy, and
a person might have listened under the window
without being discovered.

I told my friend that I would not live in a country
where I could not talk freely and speak above my
breath in my own house. The next day the preacher
kindly accompanied me to a neighborhood of non-
slaveholders, where Nathan Thomas had engaged
free-labor cotton. We went to Lemuel Lancer's,
who owned a cotton gin worked by free labor, and
who acted as agent for us in purchasing cotton from
those of his neighbors who owned no slaves. I

2S6 REMINISCENCES.

Spent a few days pleasantly at this place, then
visited other neigliboriioods of free-labor farmers in
Hardin and McNairy counties, Tennessee. I then
went into Tishomingo County, Mississippi, and fiml-
ing myself in Farmington, I called on my friend
Bell, at his store. He received me cordially, and
invited me to spend some time with him, but as I
wished to reach another neighborhood that after-
noon I declined his invitation.

He introduced me to several merchants of the
place, and as it seemed to be a leisure hour, we
seated ourselves in the shade near Bell's store and
entered into conversation. One old gentleman
named Jones asked me many questions about the
Quakers, saying he had read some of their writings
and thought he should like to live among them.
Bell had introduced me as a merchant from Cincin-
nati, and the conversation turned on that place and
business matters there. He said he thought pro-
visions and goods might be bought on better terms
in Cincinnati than in Louisville, where their mer-
chants usually went to buy their stock. One of the
merchants said the reason he did not go to Cincin-
nati to buy goods was because he understood there
were so many free negroes there that a gentleman
could not walk the street without being insulted by
them. I told him that I had lived there several
years and had never been insulted by a colored
person ; as a general thing the colored people were
very civil.

Another man said that he understood we were
amalgamated in Cincinnati, mixed up with the

VISIT TO TUE SOUTH. 287

negroes — that white men had colored wives, etc. 1
replied that we had a great many people of mixed
blood in Cincinnati, but that they all came from the
South. This caused a laugh, and I went on to say,
I knew of no case of amalgamation occurring in
Ohio, but I knew many instances of white men
bringing their yellow children from the South to our
State to be set free, and I knew of two or three
cases of white men having colored wives. About a
year ago two good-looking young white men from
this State came to Cincinnati, bringing with them
mulatto women, whom they claimed as wives. They
wished to purchase land and settle in Ohio, and
having been referred to me for advice respecting a
suitable locality, they called on me. I went with
them to the place where they were stopping — the
Dumas House, a hotel for colored people, kept by a
colored man — to see their families. One of the
women had three children ; the other was younger
and was finely dressed and decked with jewelry. I
asked the husband of the latter if this was his wife?
He answered in the affirmative. I then turned to
the other man and asked him if the elder woman
was his wife, and if those three children were his?
He answered, "Yes." I then asked the men if they
were legally married to these women ? They said
they were not; that the women were slaves, and
according to law in Mississippi the marriage of slaves
was not legal. Well, I said, it is not legal for you
to live this way in Ohio. The law of our State will
not permit it. If you intend to keep these women
as your wives, you must be legally married. A

288 REMISISCENVKS.

few days afterward the men obtained license and
were legally married to the colored women. 3'>>ch
cases as these, I continued, are all that I know of in
Cincinnati. We of the North are opposed to amaU
gamation.

One of the merchants present said that he had
heard that if fugitive slaves reach Ohio, the aboli-
tionists would harbor them and help them on their
way to Canada. Well, I replied, we have all sorts
of people in Ohio. I heard a story about a runa-
way slave a_ short time before I left home. It was
told to me by a Presbyterian minister, who ought
to be truthful. He said that the fugitive slave
escaped from his master and made his way through
Ohio on his way to Canada. He generally traveled
at night and lay concealed during the day, but when
near the northern boundary of the State, he con-
cluded that it would be safe to travel in the day,
not knowing that his master was on his trail and
close behind him. That day his master had heard
several times that his slave was a short distance
ahead, traveling on the main road. The fugitive
stopped at a house near the road to beg for some-
thing to eat. as he was very hungry. It happened
that the people were good folks, who thought it
right to feed the hungry, and they invited him in.
The lady of the house began to prepare some food,
and her husband went out to chop some stove-wood.
While he was at the wood-pile, which was near the
road, the slave's master rode up and inquired if he
had seen a negro pass along the road that day.

The man quit chopping and asked: "What kind

VISIT TO THE SOUTB. 289

of a looking fellow is the negro you are after? Is
he black or brown or of mixed blood, and where
was he from?" When the master had given a full
description of his slave and answered the other
inquiries, the man said: "Yes, I saw just such a
negro pass along here to-day. "

The master brightened up and said : "That is my
slave. What time of day was it when he passed ?
How long ago did you see him ?"

"It has not been more than an hour; he can't be
fer ahead- "

"Did you speak to him? "

" Yes, I talked with him for some time,"

" What did he tell you ? "

" Well — he told me a good deal about himself"

"Now, sir," said the master, "I wish you would
tell me all you know about him. He is my prop-
erty and I intend to capture him at any cost, I will
pay you fifty dollars if you will aid me to get hold
of him " J

The man deliberated for some time, then said:
"I don't know that that would be just right, but I'll
tell what I will do. I'll go and counsel with Deacon
Jones, who lives at that next house, about a hun-
dred yards off, and if he says it is right I'll tell you
all I know about your slave."

He then dropped his ax, and started to see Dea-
con Jones, The master rode by his side, and stop-
ped at the deacon's gate, while his companion went
into the house. The man staid so long counseling
with the deacon that the master grew impatient,
25

2QO REMINISCENCES.

and when, at last, the man came out he asked him,
hurriedly: "What did the deacon say?"

The man, however, was in no haste. He scratched
his head and hesitated awhile, then replied:

"He said he did not think it would be any harm
to tell you all I know about your slave."

The master asked, more impatiently than before,
"Well, what do you know about him. Can you tell
me where he is now?"

The man replied: " I don't know exactly where
he is now, but when you were talking to me at the
wood-pile he was in my house."

They returned together to the house, the master
in no very good humor. The man asked his wife
about the negro, and she replied: "He has been
gone more than half an hour. When he saw his
master ride up, he slipped out of the back-door, and
hid in the bushes, and when you were at Deacon
Jones', 1 saw him running like a turkey right toward
Canada. You can't catch that fellow!"

The merchants all laughed at this story, and said
it was a Yankee trick. They asked me no more
questions about runaway slaves. I had a free and
open conversation with them regarding my business
in that part of the country. I informed them that
I could not deal in slave-labor cotton, on conscien-
tious principles, and gave them a clear understand-
ing of the free-labor business, and of the class of
people in the North who were engaged in it.

The old man Jones said he knew that the Quakers
were a quiet and peaceable people who were op-
posed to slavery, and that they had a right to live

VtSIT TO THE SOUTH. 29 1

according to their conscientious convictions. He
concluded, by saying: *'I think that Mr. Coffin is
about right, and that slavery is a curse to our coun-
try."

I received several warm invitations to stop over
night, but I declined them and continued my jour-
ney. I was thankful that I had met with so good
an opportunity to advocate anti-slavery principles
among the slaveholders.

I visited in various neighborhoods the planters
who produced free-labor cotton, and those who
owned gins worked by free .labor. I found all the
arrangements made by Nathan Thomas working
well. Oa account of drought, the cotton produced
that year was considered but half a crop, but I
found in Tishomingo County, Mississippi, one hun-
dred and twelve bales of free-labor cotton, in Mc-
Nairy County, Tennessee, six hundred and sixty-six
bales, and in Hardin County, two hundred and
sixty- three bales. All this had been ginned by free
labor, and was ready for shipment north on the
Tennessee River. From Marshall County, Missis-
sippi, several hundred bales were shipped by way
of Memphis to Philadelphia. After spending nearly
two weeks traveling and visiting in these neighbor-
hoods, and talking freely everywhere on the subject
of slavery, I returned to Hamburg. After finish-
ing my business there and at Eastport, I returned
home, feeling thankful that I had found such an
open field for spreading anti-slavery principles in
the South. I believe that our traveling through the
cotton-growing States and buying free labor cotton,

2Q2 REMimscsycBS.

encouraging paid labor and discouraging unpaid
labor, were the means of preaching abolitionism in
the slave States, and was really pleading the cause
of the poor slave.

Notwithstanding the facilities we had for procur-
ing large quantities of free cotton and the arrange-
ments I had| made for manufacturing staple articles
in Cincinnati, I found it to be a losing business.
On account of the additional expense of procuring
free-labor cotton and the difficulty of obtaining and
keeping an assortment of dry-goods and groceries,
it soon became evident; after I opened the store in
Cincinnati that the enterprise would not sustain
itself unless it could be conducted on a much larger
scale than my means allowed.

Only about half the sum proposed to be raised to
aid me in the work was ever raised. It was much
easier to pass resolutions in conventions than to
carry them into effect. I invested all my available
means in the free-labor business and had to use bor-
rowed capital besides. To help sustain me in the
work, I connected with it a commission produce
business, which entailed much additional labor.

.By this time the demand for free-labor goods in
the West had largely increased. I received orders
*'rom nearly all the free States west of the moun-
tains, from Canada, and from two of the slave States,
Kentucky and West Virginia, My supply was not
equal to the demand, and I could not fill the orders
for a large assortment. The Philadelphia Asso-
ciation had but one mill for manufacturing cotton,
and their prints were coarse in quality. Often, for

FREE LABOR PROJECTS.

293

want of goods, they could fill my orders only in
part.

The New York Association often lacked a full
supply of groceries so that I was unable to obtain
enough to fill all my orders. I sold usually in
wholesale quantities, and though I did a large busi-
ness for several years, it was at a constant pecuniary
sacrifice, so far as free-labor goods were concerned.

It required a much larger capital than I was using
to make it a self-sustaining business. In order
to supply the increasing demand for free-labor
goods, it was necessary to enlarge our manufactur-
ing busines ; that required a large capital, and men
of large capital could not be induced to invest in
the business. Few of that class were in sympathy
with the free-labor movement.

I felt anxious for some capitalist to take charge
of the business, and release me from it — I wanted to
return to my comfortable home in Indiana — but
many of my friends seemed to think that if I let go
of the helm the ship would stop. They encouraged
me to hold on, and suggested the organization of a
joint-stock company. It was accordingly advertised
that a convention would be held at Salem, Union
County, Indiana, on the nineteenth of November,
1850, for the purpose of forming a Free-Labor
Association. The convention was largely attended,
and a deep interest was manifested in the subject
under consideration. In conformity with the reso-
lutions passed, a committee was appointed to take
steps to form a joint-stock company, with sufficient
capital to enlarge our nj^nufacturing business. The

2^4 REMINISCENCES.

company was organized under the act of the Gen-
eral Assembly of the St;ite of Ohio relative to incor-
porations for manufacturing and other purposes, A
charter was obtained, and a board of trustees, con-
sisting of William H. Brisbane, Samuel Lewis,
John Jolifie, Thomas Freeman, Richard Gaines,
Thomas Franklin and myself, were appointed. Will-
iam H, Brisbane was elected president, Thomas
Franklin was secretary, and I was chosen to be
treasurer. The title of the company was, "West-
ern Free Produce Manufacturing Company." Books
were opened and an appeal was issued to the friends
of the cause to come forward and take stock in the
company. In order to get as many as possible
interested in the work, the stock was divided into
small shares. According to our constitution and
charter, the company could not go into operation
until a specified sum was subscribed and paid in.
A number of the friends of free labor responded to
the call, but their subscriptions did not reach the
sum required ; so the enterprise proved to be a
failuic, and had to be abandoned. The fugitive
slave law was enacted that year, and the anti-slavery
cause seemed shrouded in gloom, but in the midst
of these discouragements wc were encouraged by
the intelligence of the spread of the free-labor cause
in England. A little periodical entitled " The Slave
— His Wrongs aitd Their Remedy" was started there
about the first of that year, for the purpose of advo-
cating free-labor principles. From the first number
wc gained the information that twenty-six free-labor
associations had been established, and that notwith

FJiEE LABOR PROJECTS. 295

standing the issue from the press, at Newcastle, of
more than one hundred thousand tracts and papers
on free-labor subjects, within the three months past,
it was difficult to meet the demand for information
on this important branch of the anti-slavery enter-
prise/ The free-labor warehouse, at Manchester,
Jiad more than equaled the expectations of the
proprietor, and efforts were being made to supply
him with additional capital for extending operations,
and also to open a warehouse in London.

The associations in England had depended, to
some extent, on cotton furnished by the free-labor
associations in America, but the cultivation of free-
labor cotton in other countries was becoming more
extensive. Great Britian had received more cotton
from the East Indies the previous year than ever
before — it amounted to two-thirds more than the
import of the preceding year — and the cultivation
of cotton had been commenced on the west coast
of Africa. Experiments on the island of Jamaica
the previous year had proved the soil and climate to
be admirably adapted for its cultivation, the cotton
produced being pronounced clean and of good staple
and color.

These accounts from England were encouraging
to the friends of the free-labor cause in this country ;
we hoped to be able soon to procure a better assort-
ment of free-labor goods. I was also encouraged to
continue my efforts in this cause by receiving from
the East an able and interesting report — printed
in pamphlet form — giving an account of what had
been done there in the interests of free labor. It

296 REMINISCENCES.

was called "The Report of the Board of Managers
of the Free-Labor Association of Friends, of New
York Yearly Meeting, adopted at the annual meet-
ing of the Association, held Fifth month 27th,
185 1,*' and was signed by direction and on behalf of
the board of managers, by Benjamin Tatham, J>ecre-
tary. A list of the names of the members of the
association was given. The number was eighty-
three, which comprised many of the most promi-
nent members of New York Yearly Meeting, by
which it appeared that the Yearly Meeting was alive
to the free-labor subject. This contrasted strongly
with the apathy manifested by many Friends of
Indiana Yearly Meeting. The report showed that
the New York Association had been actively at
work, and had recently furnished the mill at Man-
chester, England, with fifty bales of free cotton.
Friends of the free-labor cause in thq West seemed
anxious for me to continue the business at Cincin-
nati, and some additional means were furnished that
enabled me to continue the manufacture of free
cotton and to obtain a better supply of free-labor
goods. By close financiering and strict economy I
kept up the business at Cincinnati for ten years,
then sold out, and retired from mercantile life with
very limited means.

MANAGING A NEW DEPOT.

297

CHAPTER IX.

UNDERGROUND RAILROAD WORK IN CINCINNATI — A

REMINISCENCE — THE FUGITIVE COOK GIRL A

COMPANY OF TWENTY-EIGHT FUGITIVES — AUNT
3ETSEY — JACK, AND LUCY — ASSESSMENTS ON UN-
DERGROUND RAILROAD STOCK — A PRO-SLAVERY
MAN SILENCED — THE STORY OF JANE.

WHEN we moved to Cincinnati in the spring
of 1847, ^Y wife and I thought that per-
haps our work in Underground Railroad matters
was done, as we had been in active service more
than twenty years.

We hoped to find in Cincinnati enough active
workers to relieve us from further service, but we
soon found that we would have more to do than
ever. When in the city on business, I had mingled
with the abolitionists and been present at their
meetings, but some of them had died, and others
had moved away, and when I came to the city to
live, I found that the fugitives generally took refuge
among the colored people, and that they were often
captured and taken back to slavery.

Most of the colored people were not shrewd man-
agers in such matters, and many white people, who
were at heart friendly to the fugitives, were tog

298

REMINISCENCES,

timid to take hold of the work themselves. They
were ready to contribute to the expense of getting
the fugitives away to places of safety, but were not
willing to risk the penalty of the law or the stigma
on their reputation, which would be incurred if they
harbored fugitives and were known to aid them.

Abolitionists were very unpopular characters at
that time, both in religious and political associ-
ations, and many who favored the principles of
abolitionism lacked the moral courage to face pub-
lic opinion, when to do so would be to sustain an
injury in their business and to lower their reputation
in public esteem. But there were a few noble ex-
ceptionS — brave and conscientious workers — who
risked every thing in the cause they believed to be
right. I had already risked every thing in the
work — life, property and reputation — and did not
feel bound to respect human laws that came in
direct contact with the law of God.

I was personally acquainted with all the active
and reliable workers on the Underground Railroad
in the city, both colored and white. There were a
few wise and careful managers among the colored
people, but it was not safe to trust all of them with
the affairs of our work. Most of them were too
careless, and a few were unworthy — they could be
bribed by the slave-hunters to betray the hiding-
places of the fugitives. We soon found it to be the
best policy to confine our affairs to a few persons,
and to let the whereabouts of the slaves be known
to as few people as possible.

When slave-hunters were prowling around the

MANAQISQ A NEW DEPOT,

299

city we found it necessary to use every precaution.
We were soon fully initiated into the management
of Underground Railroad matters in Cincinnati,
and did not lack for work. Our willingness to aid
the slaves was soon known, and hardly a fugitive
came to the city without applying to us for assist-
ance. There seemed to be a continual increase of
runaways, and such was the vigilance of the pur-
suers that I was obliged to devote a large share of
time from my business to making arrangements for
their concealment and safe conveyance of the fugi-
tives. They sometimes came to our door frightened
and panting and in a destitute condition, having fled
in such haste and fear that they had no time to
bring any clothing except what they had on, and
that was often very scant. The expense of pro-
viding suitable clothing for them when it was neces-
sary for them to go on immediately, or of feeding
them when they were obliged to be concealed for
days or weeks, was very heavy. Added to this was
the cost of hiring teams when a party of fugitives
had to be conveyed out of the city by night to some
Underground Railroad depot, from twenty to thirty
miles distant. The price for a two-horse team on
such occasions was generally ten dollars, and some-
times two or three teams were required. We gen-
erally hired these teams from a certain German
livery stable, sending some irresponsible though
honest colored man to procure them, and always
sending the money to pay for them in advance. TIjo
people of the livery stable seemed to understand what
the teams were wanted for, and asked no questions.

300

REMINISCENCES,

It was necessary to use every precaution, and I
thought it wise to act, as the monkey did, take the
cat's paw to draw the chestnut from the fire, and not
burn my own fingers. I generally gave the money
to a second person to hand to the colored man. We
had several trusty colored men — who owned no
property and who could lose nothing in a prosecu-
tion — who understood Underground Railroad mat-
ters, and we generally got them to act as drivers,
but in some instances white men volunteered to
drive, generally young and able-bodied. Sometimes
the depot to which the fugitives were consigned was
not reached until several hours after daylight, and
it required a person of pluck and nerve to conduct
them to their stopping-place. If the party of
fugitives were large they were soon scattered among
the abolitionists in the neighborhood, and remained
in safe concealment until the next night.

While the fugitives were resting and sleeping,
their friends provided suitable wagons and drivers
for the next night's travel to another depot, perhaps
twenty-five or thirty miles distant. After our
drivers had breakfasted, fed their horses and rested
a few hours, they would return home.

Learning that the runaway slaves often arrived
almost destitute of clothing, a number of the be-
nevolent ladies of the city — Mrs. Sarah H. Ernst,
Miss Sarah O. Ernst, Mrs. Henry Miller, Mrs. Dr.
Aydclott, Mrs. Julia Harwood, Mrs. Amanda E.
Foster, Mrs. Elizabeth Coleman, Mrs. Mary Mann,
Mrs. Mary M. Guild, Miss K. Emery, and others,
organized an Anti-Slavery Sewing Society, to pro

SCENES AT RAILROAD DEPOT,

301

vide suitable clothing for the fugitives. After we
came to the city, they met at our house every week
for a number of years, and wrought much practical
good by their labors.

Our house was large and well adapted for secret-
ing fugitives. Very often slaves would lie concealed
in upper chambers for weeks without the boarders
or frequent visitors at the house knowing anything
about it. My wife had a quiet unconcerned way
of going about her work as if nothing unusual was
on hand,, which was calculated to lull every sus-
picion of those who might be watching, and who
would have been at once aroused by any sign of
secrecy or mystery. Even the intimate friends of
the family did not know when there were slaves
hidden in the house, unless they were directly
informed. When my wife took food to the fugitives
she generally concealed it in a basket, and put some
freshly ironed garment on the top to make it look
like a basketful of clean clothes. Fugitives were
not often allowed to eat in the kitchen, from fear
of detection ; notwithstanding the following little
reminiscence which appeared in print about a year
ago. It was given as a typical circumstance of
our experience.

"Scene. — Before the war; a house in Cincinnati.
Two negroes newly arrived, and evidently planta-
tion hands, eating heartily in the kitchen. Two
planters and the marshal of Cincinnati, coming
hastily up the street. A lady (Aunt Katy) enters
the parlor hurriedly and addressing a broad brim-
med Quaker, speilks: 'Levi, make thee haste. I

302 REMINISCENCES,

see strange men coming with that pestilent mar-
shal. ' Levi goes out and meets them at the gate.

** Marshal — * Good-morning, Friend Coffin. We
are seeking for two runaways.*

** Coffin — 'Two escaped slaves thee would recap-
ture?'

*' Marshal and both owners — * Yes, yes. Can
you tell us where they are ? '

''Coffin — * Was one boy very black and rather
heavy set; the other yellow and but slightly built?'

"Both owners — * Yes, yes! You describe them
exactly. '

''Coffin — 'I saw two such boys, not half an hour
since, pass this gate; they inquired where the Cin-
cinnati, Hamilton and Dayton depot was, and if you
haste you may reach the depot before the train
leaves. '

"Away go the marshal and the slave-owners,
while Coffin re-enters the house and addressing his
wife, says:

"'Mark, Katie, I did but say the boys passed
the gate, but said not whether they went in or out.
Go, hurry them with their meal, while I hitch up
the old bay horse to drive the poor souls a station or
two beyond the city, where they can embark with
safety.'"

THE FUGITIVE COOK GIRL.

At one time, a slave girl who ran away from Cov-
ington, came to our house, and my wife let her
assist the cook in the kitchen, until a suitable oppor-
tunity for her escape to Canada should arrive. She
did not ask what her name was or make any inquiries

SCENES AT RAILROAD DEPOT.

303

about the m?.stcr or mistress she had left, for it was
the poHcy in our family to make no inquiries of
slaves, in some intances, that we might be burdened
with no information if the slave-hunters should ask
questions of them. One morning when the girl
mentioned was eating her breakfast in the kitchen,
a man came into the parlor and inquired of a young
man, one of the boarders who was sitting there,
reading, if he knew of a runaway slave in that
family. The young man said that we often hired
colored servants, and called **Aunt Katy " in to
speak to the man.

He made known his errand to her by saying :
**Onc of my neighbors has lost his cook girl, and
we think she is here or in this neighborhood.'*

My wife replied : **I do not know anything about
your cook girl, but will inquire of my servant ; per-
haps she will know."

She then called in our cook and made the inquiry
in hearing of the man, receiving an answer in the
negative. Our daughter was in the kitchen, and
heard the inquiry, and hastened the slave girl up a
back stairway, leading out of the kitchen.

If the man had stepped into the kitchen, at first,
he might have seen the object of his search sitting
at the table eating. He withdrew from the house,
and walked up and down the sidewalk in front of it,
till noon. Henrietta, the cook, resolved to aid her
fugitive fellow-servant to escape from quarters so
closely guarded, and taking her up stairs, dressed
her in a new black silk which she had just bought
and made up, and put on her head a fashionable bon-

304 REMINISCENCES,

net, which was provided with a vail. Then attiring
herself for the street, the two went boldly out of the
front door, just as the man had turned his back and
was walking toward the next square. They followed
behind him. at the distance of half a square, until
they reached a side street, then, turning off, they
made their way across the canal to a settlement of
colored people, where the fugitive remained for two
weeks. At the end of that time she returned to
our house, and we took her and several other fugi-
tives with us when we went to Canada on a visit a
short time afterward.

My wife said : *' I did not know whether she was
a cook girl, chambermaid, nurse girl or field hand,
for I had never inquired, and I did not think it
necessary to ask her when her pursuer was standing
in the next room, ready to take her back to
slavery."

A COMPANY OF TWENTY-EIGHT FUGITIVES.

The fugitives generally arrived in the night, and
were secreted among the friendly colored people or
hidden in the upper room of our house. They
came alone or in companies, and in a few instances
had a white guide to direct them.

One company of twenty-eight that crossed the
Ohio River at Lawrcnceburg, Indiana — twenty miles
below Cincinnati — had for conductor a white man
whom they had employed to assist them. The char-
acter of this man was full of contradictions. He
was a Virginian by birth and spent much of his
time in the South, yet he hated slavery. He was

SCENES AT RAILROAD DEPOT.

305

devoid of moral principle, but was a true friend to
the poor slave.

Sometimes slaves would manage to accumulate a
little money by working at making baskets at night
or on the Sabbath, and when they had saved a few
dollars they were very willing to give it all to some
white man in whom they had confidence, if he would
help them across the river and direct them how to
reach the Underground Railroad.

Thus I have always contended that this road was
a Southern institution, being conducted however on
a different principle from what it was on this side
Mason and Dixon's line. The company of twenty-
eight slaves referred to, all lived in the same neigh-
borhood in Kentucky, and had been planning for
some time how they could make their escape from
slavery. This white man — ^John Fairfield — had
been in the neighborhood for some weeks buying
poultry, etc., for market, and though among the
whites he assumed to be very pro-slavery, the
negroes soon found that he was their friend.

He was engaged by the slaves to help them across
the Ohio River and conduct them to Cincinnati.
They paid him some money which they had man-
aged to accumulate. The amount was small, con-
sidering the risk the conductor assumed, but it was
all they had. Several of the men had their wives
with them, and one woman a little child with her, a
few months old. John Fairfield conducted the party
to the Ohio River opposite the mouth of the Big
Miami, where he knew there were several skiffs tied
to the bank, near a wood-yard. When I asked him
26

3o6 nEAfimscENCEs.

afterward if he did not feel compunctions of con-
science for breaking these skiffs loose and using them,
he replied: **No; slaves are stolen property, and it
is no harm to steal boats or anything else that will
help them gain their liberty." The entire party
crowded into three large skiffs or yawls, and made
their way slowly across the river. The boats were
overloaded and sank so deep that the passage was
made in much peril. The boat John Fairfield was
in was leaky, and began to sink when a few rods
from the Ohio bank, and he sprang out on the sand-
bar, where the water was two or three feet deep,
and tried to drag the boat to the shore. He sank
to his waist in mud and quicksands, and had to be
pulled out by some of the negroes. The entire
party waded out through mud and water and reached
the shore safely, though all were wet and several
lost their shoes. They hastened along the bank
toward Cincinnati, but it was now late in the night
and daylight appeared before they reached the city.
Their plight was a most pitiable one. They were
cold, hungry and exhausted; those who had lost
their shoes in the mud suffered from bruised and
lacerated feet, while to add to their discomfort a
drizzling rain fell during the latter part of the night.
They could not enter the city for their appearance
would at once proclaim them to be fugitives. When
they reached the outskirts of the city, below Mill
Creek, John Fairfield hid them as well as he could,
in ravines that had been washed in the sides of the
steep hills, and told them not to move until he
returned. He then went directly to John Hatfield,

SCENES AT RAILROAD DEPOT, 307

a worthy colored man, a deacon in the Zion Baptist
Church, and told his story. He had applied to
Hatfield before and knew him to be a great friend
to the fugitives — one who had often sheltered them
under his roof and aided them in every way he
could

John Fairfield also knew me and knew that I was
a friend to the slave. I had met him several times,
and was acquainted with the plan of his operations
in the Southj-but I was opposed to the principles on
which he worked. I will have occasion to refer to
him at another time and will explain more fully his
plans, and the reason why I opposed his operations
in the South. When he arrived, wet and muddy,
at John Hatfield's house, he was scarcely recognized.
He soon made himself and his errand known, and
Hatfield at once sent a messenger to me, requesting
me to come to his house without delay, as there
were fugitives in danger. I went at once and met
several prominent colored men who had also been
summoned. While dry clothes and a warm break-
fast were furnished to John Fairfield, we anxiously
discussed the situation of the twenty-eight fugitives
who were lying, hungry and shivering, in the hills
in sight of the city.

Several plans were suggested, but none seemed
practicable. At last I suggested that some one
should go immediately to a certain German livery
stable in the city and hire two coaches, and that
several colored men should go out in buggies and
take the women and children from their hiding-
places, then that the coaches and buggies should

308 REMINISCENCES

form a procession as if g[oing to a funeral, and march
solemnly along the road leading to Cumminsville,
on the west side of Mill Creek. In the western
part of Cumminsville was the Methodist Episcopal
burying ground, where a certain lot of ground had
been set apart for the use of the colored people.
They should pass this and continue on the Colerain
pike till they reached a right-hand road leading
to College Hill. At the latter place they would
find a few colored families, living in the outskirts
of the village, and could take refuge among them.
Jonathan Cable, a Presbyterian minister, who lived
near Farmer's College, on the west side of the vil-
lage, was a prominent abolitionist, and I knew that
he would give prompt assistance to the fugitives.

I advised that one of the buggies should leave the
procession at Cumminsville, after passing the bury-
ing-ground, and hasten to College Hill to apprise
friend Cable of the coming of the fugitives, that he
might make arrangements for their reception in
suitable places. My suggestions and advice were
agreed to, and acted upon as quickly as possible,
John Hatfield agreeing to apprise friend Cable of
the coming of the fugitives. We knew that we must
act quickly and with discretion, for the fugitives
were in a very unsafe position, and in great danger
of being discovered and captured by the police, who
were always on the alert for runaway slaves.

While the carriages and buggies were being pro-
cured, John Hatfield's wife and daughter, and other
colored women of the neighborhood, busied them-
selves in preparing provisions to be sent to the fu^i-

SCENES AT RAILROAD DEPOT.

309

tives. A large stone jug was filled with hot coffee,
and this, together with a supply of bread and other
provisions, was placed in a buggy and sent on ahead
of the carriages, that the hungry fugitives might
receive some nourishment before starting. The
conductor of the party, accompanied by John Hat-
field, went in the buggy, in order to apprise the
fugitives of the arrangements that had been made,
and have them in readiness to approach the road as
soon as the carriages arrived. Several blankets
were provided to wrap around the women and chil-
dren, whom we knew must be chilled by their ex-
posure to the rain and cold. The fugitives were
very glad to get the supply of food, the hot coffee
especially being a great treat to them, and felt much
revived. About the time they finished their break-
fast the carriages and buggies drove up and halted
in the road, and the fugitives were quickly con-
ducted to them and placed inside. The women in
the tight carriages wrapped themselves in the blan*
kets, and the woman who had a young babe muf-
fled it closely to keep it warm, and to prevent its
cries from being heard. The little thing seemed to
be suffering much pain, having been exposed so
long to the rain and cold.

All the arrangements were carried out, and the
party reached. College Hill in safety, and were
kindly received and cared for. But, sad to relate,
it was a funeral procession not only in appearance
but in reality, for when they arrived at College Hill,
and the mother unwrapped her sick child, she found
to her surprise and grief that its stillness, which she

3IO

REMINISCENCES.

supposed to be that of sleep, was that of death.
All necessary preparations were made by the kind
people of the village, and the child was decently
and quietly interred the next day in the burying-
ground on the Hill.

When it was known by some of the prominent
ladies of the village that a large company of fugi-
tives were in the neighborhood, they met together
to prepare some clothing for them. Jonathan Cable
ascertained the number and size of the shoes
needed, and the clothes required to fit the fugitives
for traveling, and came down in his carriage to my
house, knowing that the Anti-Slavery Sewing So-
ciety had their depository there. I went with him
to purchase the shoes that were needed, and my
wife selected all the clothing we had that was suit-
able for the occasion ; the rest was furnished by the
noble women of College Hill.

I requested friend Cable to keep the fugitives as
secluded as possible until a way could be provided
for safely forwarding them on their way to Canada.
Friend Cable was a stockholder in the Underground
Railroad, and we consulted together about the best
route, finally deciding on the line by way of Hamil-
ton, West Elkton, Eaton, Paris and Newport, In-
diana. West Elkton, twenty-five or thirty miles
from College Hill, was the first Underground Rail-
road depot. That line always had plenty of loco-
motives and cars in readiness. I agreed to send
information to that point, and accordingly wrote to
one of my particular friends at West Elkton, in-
forming him that I had some valuable stock on hand

SCENES AT RAILROAD DEPOT.

311

which I wished to forward to Newport, and re-
quested him to send three two-horse wagons — cov-
ered — to College Hill, where the stock was resting,
in charge of Jonathan Cable. I said: *' Please put
straw in the wagons so that they may rest easy on
the journey, for many of them have sore feet, hav-
ing traveled hastily over rough ground. I wish you
to get to College Hill to-morrow evening; come
without fail."

The three wagons arrived promptly at the time
mentioned, and a little after dark took in the party,
together with another fugitive, who had arrived the
night before, and whom we added to the company.
They went through to West Elkton safely that
night, and the next night reached Newport, Indiana.
With little delay they were forwarded on from sta-
tion to station through Indiana and Michigan to
Detroit, having fresh teams and conductors each
night, and resting during the day. I had letters
from different stations, as they progressed, giving
accounts of the arrival and departure of the train,
and I also heard of their safe arrival on the Canada
shore.

I often received intelligence of the arrival in Can-
ada of fugitives whom I had helped on the way
to liberty, and it was always very gratifying to me.
I was well known on the different routes of the
Underground Railroad, and people wrote to me of
the success of my shipments. From the stories of
hundreds of slaves who arrived at our house, hav-
ing made their escape on foot through cane-brakes
and forests, across rivers and mountains, or hidden

3 1 2 REMINISCENCES,

in wagons, or concealed amid cotton bales on steam-
boats, the following have been selected :

A BRAVE WOMAN.

A slave family of ten, consisting of a man and his
wife, and their eight children, some of them grown,
lived in Kentucky, about fifteen miles from Coving-
ton. Their master, in order no doubt to prevent
their attempting to cross into Ohio and escape,
often told them that he intended to set them free,
and assured them that they should never have to
serve any one but him. Aunt Betsey, the mother
of the family, was a trusty old servant, and he
reposed considerable confidence in her, giving her a
standing pass, and sending her frequently to Cincin-
nati with a wagon and two horses, to take vege-
tables to market. She faithfully fulfilled all her
duties, and though often urged by her colored
friends in Cincinnati to escape while such good
opportunities were allowed hei, she refused to do
so, trusting that her master would do as he had
promised, and that all her family would be free.
But she learned, after awhile, that he intended to sell
some of her children, and became fully convinced
that there was no hope of the fulfillment of his
promise. She had not been allowed to go to the
city for some time, and she feared her pass would be
taken from her, and that she would not be permitted
to go to the city any more. But undismayed at
these discouragements, she began to plan for the
escape of the whole family. Her husband, more
timid than herself, and much less energetic, was

SCENES A T RAILROAD DEPOT. 3 1 3

afraid to make the attempt, for he thought they cer-
tainly would be captured and brought back, and
their condition would then be worse than ever. She
urged it so much, however, that he finally yielded
and consented to go, leaving all the arrangements to
her. One night when her master and mistress had
retired, and there was no one about who would act
as a spy on her movements, she got out the horses
and wagon, and prepared a load, as if she were
going to market; first putting their clothing and
bedding in the bottom of the wagon, then piling
vegetables on top.

In the evening she had asked a little white boy
who lived in the neighborhood, if he did not wish
to go to the city with her, and he, pleased at the
prospect of seeing so large a place as Cincinnati,
eagerly accepted her invitation. She told him she
would take him that night, but he must not men-
' tion it to his parents, lest they should not let him go.
He was on hand at the hour of starting, and the
whole party got into the wagon and started on their
journey. Aunt Betsy drove the horses over the
road which she had usually traveled on her way to
the city, and just before daylight came to the
town of Covington. Before entering it she stopped
the team, unloaded the vegetables, secreted her
husband and children among the clothing and bed-
ding, and then scattered the vegetables smoothly
over the top. * Her husband's fear and indecision
had increased during the journey, and his courage
entirely failed him when they neared Covington,

314

REMINISCENCES.

He wanted to go back, and only the firmness and
decision of his wife compelled him to go on.

Aunt Betsey, having seen her family stowed
away out of sight, mounted the seat again, with the
white boy by her side. When they reached the
ferry, she handed the reins to him, and took them
again when they were across the river. The ferry-
men asked her no questions, for they had often seen
her going to market, and supposed that she had the
pass she usually carried. After reaching the city,
she drove to the house of a colored friend on North
Street, where there was a dense colored population,
and the wagon was unloaded as soon as possible.
The bedding, etc. , were stored in the basement of a
colored Wesleyan church, and the family scattered
among several friends, where they could find places
of safety and concealment. Aunt Betsy then drove
into BiK>adway, and after going several squares
stopped the team, and told the white boy that she
must go to the market and that he must remain and
watch the horses.

I had been duly notified of the arrival of the
party, had already received some of them into my
house, and was now applied to for further assistance.
I soon planned an arrangement by which the team
could be returned and no clue gained to the where-
abouts of the fugitives. A colored man. went to a
German who could speak but little English, and
hired him to drive the team across the ferry to Cov-
ington, telling him some one would take charge of
it there. When they reached the wagon, they found

SCENES AT RAILROAD DEPOT,

315

the little boy crying ; he said he was tired of waiting
for Aunt Betsey, she was gone so long to market.

The master next morning, finding his slaves gone,
started in pursuit, and when he reached Covington
he found the team, the little boy and the German
driver. The child could tell nothing, except that
he had gone to market with Aunt Betsey, and that
she left him to mind the horses and did not come
back. The master had the German arrested, but as
he knew nothing about the affair, except that he
had been hired by a colored man whom he did not
know, to drive the team across to Covington, he
was soon discharged. The master continued his
search in Cincinnati ; he informed the police, and
had them on the alert ; offered a large reward for
the fugitives, and did all in his power to find them,
but could gain no clue to their retreat.

A close watch was kept on every road leading out
of the city, and the friends of the fugitives dared
not move them in any direction for more than a
week. At last we hit upon a plan to get them out
in disguise, in open daylight. The males were dis-
guised as females, and the females as males, and
thus attired they were seated in elegant carriages,
and driven out of the city at different points, ex-
actly at noon, when most of the people were at
dinner. Those who were on the look-out* for a com-
pany of frightened, poorly dressed fugitives, did not
recognize the objects of their search, for it was quite
common for the colored gentry to go out riding in
that style. They were taken about thirty miles
from the city, and thence proceeded by night travel

fi -•-•-■»-.-;

316

REMINISCENCRS,

to Canada. Their bedding and clothing were hoved,
and shipped to a trusty friend in Detroit.

In connection with my efforts for this ysity of
fugitives, an incident occurred which has o/>en been
related with much gusto by those whom Jt -r.nused.
The Ladies* Anti-Slavery Sewing Society f.tted out
the family with necessary clothing, and if devolved
on me, as usual, to collect money to defray expenses.
I started out to call on some of the stockholders of
the Underground Railroad, and stopped first at the
pork-hou.se of Henry Lewis, whom I knew to be a
true friend to fugitives, and always ready to con-
tribute when there was need. Walking into the
office, 1 found Henry, his brother Albert, and M. E.
Hagans, now Judge Hagans, who was then Henry
Lewis' book-keeper. There were also three stran-
gers sitting in the office, slaveholders from Ken-
tucky, who had come on business connected with
pork — Henry Lewis generally bought their hogs
and the hogs of others in their neighborhood. I
said: ''Henry, I want to raise a little money for a
family of poor people ; they are in need, and I
am called on for help." I knew that Henry would
understand me.

He asked: '* Are they ver>'^ poor?"

''Yes," I replied, "among the poorest of the
poor, and must suffer if they are not helped ; thou
knows I am often called on in such cases."

Henry remarked to the company in the office : '/I
never care to ask Mr. Coffin many questions when
he calls for money to help the poor, for I know that
he is often applied to in such instances, and will not

COLLECyriNQ SUPPLIES,

317

take hold of a case without he is satified that it is a
case of real need. I am always willing to contribute
when he calls.*' He then handed me a dollar, and
said: **Now, gentlemen, show your liberality."

His brother Albert and M. B. Hagans each
handed me a dollar, and the three Kentuckians, not
wishing to be behind the others in generosity,
handed me a dollar apiece. 1 thanked them and
retired, with six dollars in my pocket for the poor
family.

About a week afterward three or four other Ken-
tuckians, from the same neighborhood, were in
Henry Lewis* pork-house on similar business, and
in the course of their conversation they made use
of threats and curses against the abolitionists, ac-
cusing them of harboring their slaves and helping
them on to Canada. Henry Lewis interrupted them,
and said: ''Gentlemen, you needn't say a word
about the abolitionists helping your slaves to get
away. There were three of your neighbors here
the other day — all slaveholders — and an old gentle-
man came into this office to beg some money to
help a family of fugitives to get to Canada, and they
every one contributed. Now, what have you got
to say, seeing that your own folks have turned abo-
litionists?" They uttered a few more oaths, and
dropped the subject.

It was the custom of myself and other abolition-
ists in the city to try the roads before starting out a
company of Underground Railroad passengers. If
we suspected there were watchers lying in wait at
the outlets, we sent out a carriage or wagon, con-

3 1 8 REMINISCENCES.

taining some noted abolitionist and a number of free
colored people, and much merriment was excited
when they were pounced upon by the watchers, who
shortly learned their mistake and retired discomfited.

A large proportion of the fugitives who came to
my house in Cincinnati were from Kentucky. The
Ohio River, after they ran away from their masters,
was the principal barrier between them and freedom
but they generally found some means to cross it.
They could not cross on the ferry-boats from Ken-
tucky without producing a pass, indorsed by some
responsible person known to the ferryman.

Another story of Kentucky fugitives is that of a
couple whom we will call

JACK AND LUCY.

They were husband and wife, and belonged to a
man who lived ten or twelve miles from Cincinnati.
They were very valuable property, and the master,
through reverses of fortune or for some other rea-
son, was obliged to dispose of them. He sold
them to a Southern slave-trader, and promised to
deliver them at Louisville, at a certain time, in sea-
son for a down-river boat. The night after the bar-
gain was made, they were locked in a back-room up
stairs, for greater safety. In spite of this precau-
tion, they managed to escape. Tying their bed-
clothing together, and fastening one end securely to
the bedpost near the window, they let themselves
down to the ground in the back-yard, and ran away,
barefooted, bareheaded, and very thinly clad.
When they reached the bank of the Ohio, they

PASSENGERS FOR THE RAILROAD. 31^

found a little skiff tied to the shore, and breaking it
loose, they got in and rowed across to the other
side. Reaching Cincinnati, they went to the house
of a colored friend, who brought them immediately
to my house, where they arrived about daylight.

They were placed in a garret chamber and locked
up, none but myself and wife knowing of their pres-
ence in the house.

Their escape was discovered in the night, and the
master with a posse of men started immediately in
pursuit. They crossed the river between Covington
and Cincinnati, about the same time that the fugi-
tives were crossing below the city. Supposing that
they had not had time to cross yet, the pursuers
watched the river for some time, in hope of cap-
turing them, not knowing that* they were safely
ensconced in our garret. Finding himself foiled, the
master then went to Covington, and had handbills
printed, offering four hundred dollars* reward for his
property. Jack and Lucy were worth a thousand
apiece, and their owner felt that he had rather pay a
large reward for them than to lose them entirely.
These handbills were distributed among the police-
men of Cincinnati, and scattered about the city, and
one of them soon came into my hands.

A vigilant search was made for several weeks, but
no less vigilant were we who secreted the fugitives.
From a small window in their room, Jack and Lucy
saw their master passing up and down the street in
front of the house, and often some of his company
passed by, late at night, as if reconnoitering, but
no attempt was made to search the premises. Aftet

320 RRMJNISCENCES,

keeping Jack and Lucy secreted in our garret for
two weeks, during which time the ladies of the
Anti-Slavery Sewing Society provided them with
clothing, the hunt seemed to be over and it was
decided to send them on to Canada.

Money was to be raised to hire a carriage to take
them away, and I considered myself appointed to
collect it. Starting out one morning, I went into a
store where I was slightly acquainted. I did not
know whether the proprietor was friendly to the
cause or not, but asked him if he had any stock
in the Underground Railroad. He inquired what
road that was, and when I told him it was the one
on which fugitives slaves were sent to Canada, he
replied :

**If that is the road I believe I have a little stock
m it.

I then told him that there was an assessment on
the stock, and that I was authorized to collect it.

**How much will mine be?** asked the merchant.

"Mine is a dollar,'* I replied, "I suppose thine
will be the same.'*

I received a dollar, and went on to another store
whose keeper was a Jew. I did not know his senti-
ments, but as soon as I informed him that money
was wanted for Underground Railroad purposes, he
handed me two dollars. I went next to a wholesale
drug store, and explaining my errand, received one
dollar from each of the proprietors, who were abo-
litionists ; then to a qucensware store and received
a similar amount from each proprietor. I next
called at a wholesale grocery on Pearl Street, where

COLLECTINO FUNDS FOR THE ROAD.

321

I had business to transact. I knew that the princi-
pal member of the firm was not in sympathy with
my anti-slavery work, but resolved to speak to him
on the matter. Meeting him at the door, I intro-
duced the subject, and the following conversation
took place :

**Hast thou any stock in the Underground Rail-
road, Friend A ?"

"No!"

*' It pays well ; thou ought to take stock ; it makes
one feel good every time he is called on for an
assessment."

"I want nothing to do with it. I don't believe in
helping fugitives."

**Stop, my good friend, I don't believe thou
knowest what thou art talking about. Suppose thy
wife had been captured and carried off by Indians or
Algerines, had suffered all the cruelties and hard-
ships of slavery, and had escaped barefooted, bare-
headed and with but little clothing, and must perish
without aid, or be recaptured and taken back into
slavery ; suppose some one was to interest himself in
her behalf and call on me to aid in restoring her to
freedom, and I should refuse to do it and say, * I
want nothing to do with helping fugitives' — what
wouldst thou think of me?"

**I do not expect my wife ever to be in such a
condition."

*'I hope she will not be, but I know of some-
body's wife who is in just such a condition now, and
I have been called on for help. It always does me
good to have the opportunity to help in such cases.

322

BEMINISCENCES

and as I am never permitted to enjoy any good
thing without wishing others to partake with me, I
thought I would give thcc the opportunity to enjoy
this with me." Then I told him of the man and wife
who were sold to a negro-trader to be taken to the
far South, and related how they made their escape,
bareheaded, barefooted and thinly clad, and hast-
ened to the Ohio River in the dark, over ten miles
or more of rough road, while their hearts were full of
fear and dread lest they should be recaptured. At
the river they found a skiff which they succeeded in
breaking loose, and crossed safely to the city, where
they found good quarters. I said: ** Great exertions
have been made to find them and drag them back to
slavery, but the efforts have not succeeded; the
fugitives have been kept in close quarters. We
think now that it may be safe to forward them on
the Underground Railroad to Canada, but they
must be suitably provided for the journey, and
money must be raised to help them on their way.
Now I want thee to take stock to help us clothe
and forward these people ; I know thou wouldst feel
better to contribute for their relief. Now I have
done my duty ; I have given thee the opportunity
to contribute, and if thou art not disposed to do so,
it is thy look-out, not mine." I then left him and
went into the counting-room to transact some busi*
ness with the book-keeper. When this was done,
I turned to go, but as I was passing out of the store
the merchant, who was waiting on a customer, called
to me. I stopped, and he came to me and said in a
low tone :

COLLECTING FUNDS FOR THE ROAD, 323

**I will give you a trifle if you want something;."

I replied: ** I want nothing; but if it is thy desire
to contribute something to help those poor fugitives
I told thee about, 1 will see that it is rightly ap-
plied."

The merchant then handed me a silver half-dollar.
I took it, and said: **Now I know thou wilt feel
better," then left the store. About a week after-
ward I was passing down Walnut Street, below
Fourth, when I saw this merchant coming up on the
opposite side. When he saw me, he crossed over
and coming up to me, smiling, he shook hands, and
asked, in a whisper: '* Did they get off safely ?"

I laughed outright, and exclaimed '*Ah, thou
hast taken stock in the Underground Railroad, and
feels an interest in it ; if thou hadst not taken stock
thou wouldst have cared nothing about it. Yes,
they got off safely, and by this time are probably in
Canada."

A PRO-SLAVERY MAN SILENCED.

Beside dealing in free-labor goods, I carried on
a large commission business, receiving and selling
all kinds of country produce. One of the merchants

with whom I had frequent dealings was M. C ,

who was pro-slavery in his sentiments, profane in
his speech, and who often threw out slurs about
abolitionism and negro-stealing. He came into my
store one morning to inquire about some produce he
wished to purchase, and greeted me with, ** Good-
morning, Friend Levi, how are you ?"

324 REMINISCENCES.

"Only tolerably well," I replied, "I do not feel
very bright this morning ; how art thou ?"

**Oh, first rate; but what is the matter with you
that you don't feel bright this morning — have you
been out stealing niggers?"

** There's no need of stealing them," I replied;
"they come about as fast as we can take care of
them. There is one here now; he arrived in the
city last night and met with a colored man, who
took him to the house of Preacher Green, pastor of
Allen Chapel, whom he knew to be a friend to fugi-
tives. Green brought him to my house this morn-

• it
mg.

"Where do you keep them?" M. C •- inquired;

"in your cellar?"

"No," I answered, "we don't put people in the
cellar ; we take them into the parlor or sitting-room.
This poor man has suffered nearly everything but
death; he has traveled a long- distance, and been on
the way several months, suffering from cold, hunger
and exposure. He formerly lived in Kentucky, but
was separated from his family some years ago and
sold to a negro-trader, who took him to the South,
and sold him to a cotton planter in Mississippi. He
was set to work in the field, but not being used to
picking cotton he could not keep up with the others
who were accustomed to the work. When he fell
behind or failed to perform his task, he received
such severe cuts from the whip carried by the cruel
overseer that the blood ran down his back, and the
wounds left scars and painful sores. At night the
cotton was weighed by the overseer, and if this

CRUELTY OF THE SYSTEM. 325

man's share lacked the required weight he was strip-
ped, tied up, and cruelly whipped. At night the
slaves had to prepare their scanty store of food for
next day, or go without and suffer hunger. This,
man concluded that he would endure such a life no
longer ; he had rather die in the woods in endeavor-
ing to escape, than to live in such cruel bondage.
He had heard that there was a country far to the
north where all people were free, and he started for
Canada. He was trailed by dogs and torn by them,
and captured and put in jail, but he would not tell
where he was from, and finally he broke jail and
made his escape. After enduring much suffering
and passing through many dangers, he reached this
city last night, barefooted and clothed in rags.
Preacher Green, a colored man, brought him to our
house early this morning, and we have already pro-
vided him with food and clothing. Preacher Green
collected a little money among the colored people,
and has gone out to buy a pair of shoes for the fugi-
tive."

M . C listened lo my story with strict atten-
tion. When it was finished, I stepped from behind
the counter, and said: **Come with me to my
house, near by, and see the poor fellow. He seems
quite intelligent, and tells a straight story.'*

** Where is he?" M. C repeated; **in your

cellar?"

I spoke with emphasis, and said: **No! I told
thee we did not put people in the cellar ; he is in
the sitting-room."

We walked out together, and had reached the

326 REMINISCENCES.

door of my house when I stopped suddenly, and
said: '* There is one thing which 1 forgot. If thou
sees him thou must pay a dollar to help him on his
way; wilt thou do it?"

M. C shook his head, but I looked him in the

face, and said: '*! guess thou wilt; come in."

We entered the house, and I introduced the fugi-
tive, calling him Sam — his real name I did not know.
"Now, Sam," I said, **tcll this gentleman the story
thou told me this morning. Tell him the reason
thou ran away, and what thou suffered in thy long
journey. Don't be afraid, there is no danger."

Sam told his story in simple and touching lan-
guage, and M. C listened with interest, asking

questions now and then. Sam showed his scars and
wounds in confirmation of his story.

I then told M. C that it was not safe for Sam

to remain longer in the city, and we had decided to
send him on that morning. We intended to put him
aboard the train for Detroit, and we had but a short
time in which to raise the money to purchase his
ticket. I said : ' ' Preacher Green will be here in a
short time to take Sam to the depot. He has raised
some money among the colored people, and I told
him I would try to raise the rest that was needed.
I want thee to help us."

M. C pulled out his purse, and handed the

fugitive a dollar. We then returned to the store,
and I said to my companion: "Now, my good fel-
low, go and tell it! Thou hast laid thyself liable not
only to a heavy fine, but to imprisonment, under

SCENES AT RAILROAD DEPOT.

327

the fugitive slave law. Thou gave a fugitive slave a
dollar to help him to Canada; I saw thee do it."

He turned toward me with a peculiar look, and
said: '*D — n it, you've got me !"

I told the story on him frequently when I met
him in suitable company, sometimes asking those
present if they had heard of friend C *s con-
version ; he had been converted to abolitionism, and
had taken stock in the Underground Railroad. This

always created surprise and merriment. M. C

declared that he dreaded to meet me, and never
again troubled me with slurs or insinuations about
abolitionism and negro-stealing.

THE STORY OF JANE.

Jane was a handsome slave girl, who lived in Cov-
ington, Kentucky, her old master and mistress
having moved from Virginia, and settled in that
place some years before the time our story opens.
She was kindly treated by her owners, and her old
mistress, who was very fond of. her, taught her to
sew and do housework, and took such pains in teach-
ing her that she became quite skillful in needle-
work and everything j5ertaining to housekeeping.
Jane's lot was a pleasant one, and until she reached
the age of sixteen none of the evils of slavery shad-
owed her life. Then her old master died and she
became the property of his son, who took posses-
sion of the premises and assumed the care of Jane's
old mistress. This son was a wicked, thoughtless
man, and poor Jane was completely under his con-
trol. After living with him some time, she became

328

REMINISCENCES.

the mother of a beautiful little girl, who was almost
as white as her father, Jane's master.

Those who have seen quadroons and octoroons
will remember their peculiar style of beauty, the
rich olive tint of the complexion, the large bright
eyes, the perfect features, and the long wavy black
hair. A hundred romantic associations and myste-
rious fancies clustered around that class in the
South, owned, as they often were, often by their
own fathers and sold by them.

Jane was a house-servant, and did not have to
work under the lash or toil in the fields, as many
slave- women were compelled to do, but she felt
keenly the degradation of her position and longed
to be free, that she might live a purer life. She had
experienced a change of heart and become a Chris-
tian, and this offended her master. He decided to
sell her, when her little girl was about three years
old. The old mistress was opposed to it, but her
words had no effect; the master declared that he
would sell Jane to the first trader that came along.
Jane's mistress informed her of the fate in store for
her, and said that she longed to save her from it,
but was powerless. Jane was greatly alarmed, and
in her distress went to tell her grief to an English
family, who lived near by, kind-hearted people, who
were opposed to slavery. They were much attached
to Jenny, as they called her, and felt great .sym-
pathy with her in her distress. The old gentleman
went to see her master, and tried to. dissuade him
from his purpose of selling Jane, but he could not
be moved. Nothing was said about the child. The

CRVELTY OF THE SYSTEM, 329

old gentleman told me afterward that he had no
thought that the brute would sell his own child.
Next day the old Englishman and his son in-law
concluded that by their united efforts they could
raise a sura sufficient to purchase Jane, supposing
that her master would sell her at a fair price. They
went to him and offered him five hundred dollars for
her, intending to secure her freedom and to allow
her reasonable wages until she paid back the
amount. But the master refused to take it. He
said Jane was a handsome girl and would bring a
high price down South ; he would not take less than
eight hundred dollars for her, and thought perhaps
he might get a thousand. This was more money
than Jane's friends were able to give ; they thought
it was an unreasonable price, and gave up the idea
of buying her. A few days afterward the master
sold Jane and her beautiful child to a Southern
negro-trader, receiving eleven hundred dollars for
them both — nine hundred for the mother and two
hundred for the child.

When Jane learned that she was sold, to be
taken to the far South, her distress was indescriba-
ble. She and her little girl were to go together, but
she knew not how soon they would be separated.
She slipped into the house of her English friends,
almost overwhelmed with grief, and begged them
to help her in some way, to save her from being
sent away. They felt deeply for her distress, but
what could they do ? Jane was to have one day, in
which to wash and iron her clothes, then she must
start away with her new master, the slave-trader.

330

REMINISCENCES,

The old Englishman concluded to go over to Cin-
cinnati that day and see William Casey, a worthy
colored man of his acquaintance, and counsel with
him about Jane. Casey soon suggested a plan to get
her over the river and put her on the Underground
Railroad for Canada. The old man knew very little
about the Underground Railroad, but he had full
confidence in William Casey, knowing him to be a
true and reliable man, and agreed to carry out his
suggestions if possible. Casey said he would get a
skiff and go across the river in the early part of the
night to a wood-boat that lay at the bank in the
lower part of Covington. The nights were then
dark, and he thought he could carry out his plan
unmolested. The old Englishman was to apprise
Jane of the plan, and tell her to watch for an oppor-
tunity to slip out into a certain dark alley, where he
would be in waiting. He would then conduct her
to the wood-boat where Casey agreed to be, and she
could be rowed across to the city under cover of
darkness, and secreted in some safe place.

Her English friend managed to communicate the
plan to Jane, and she watched diligently for an op-
portunity to escape, but she was kept busy, till
late, washing and fixing her clothes preparatory
to starting on her journey next day, and her mis-
tress or some one else staid in the room to watch
her.

Jane's heart throbbed with anxious excitement as
the time drew near for the door to be closed, and no
opportunity offered for her to get away. She did
not want to leave her little girl, but knew not how

SCENES AT THE DEPOT

331

she could take her out of the house without exciting
suspicion. She went into the yard several tinnes in
the evening, and finally the child who had remained
awake — something altogether unusual — followed her
out. This was the very opportunity for which Jane
had been watching and hoping, and she did not let
it pass. Taking her little daughter in her arms, she
made her way into the back alley, and walked rap-
idly toward the place where she was to meet her
friend, the Englishman. The child, as if knowing
that something was at stake, kept perfectly quiet.

Jane's friend was waiting at the rendezvous,
though he had almost given her up, and concluded
that it was impossible for her to get away. To-
gether they proceeded to the river, Jane trembling
so much with excitement that she was obliged to
give her child to her conductor to carry. Walking
across the wood-boat, the Englishman perceived a
man waiting in a skiff, and though it was too dark
to distinguish faces, he felt confident that it was the
faithful Casey, and handed him the child. Then
assisting Jane into the skiff, he bade her good-by,
with a fervent "God bless you !"

Casey brought the fugitives to our house, where
they arrived about midnight. We knew nothing of
the circumstances beforehand, but were accustomed
to receive fugitives at all hours. They were soon
secreted in tin up-stairs room, where they remained
in safety for several weeks. About a week after
Jane's escape, the old Englishman, who had been
afraid to make any inquiry before, came over to
Cincinnati to learn what had become of her. He

332 REMINISCENCES,

was not acquainted with the Underground Railroad
and its workings, and inquired of Casey whether its
agents or managers were reliable persons. Casey
told him there was a man in the city who could tell
him all about it, and also give him information re-
garding Jane. He then conducted him to our house,
introduced him, and told what his errand was.

I informed him that instead of the Underground
Railroad being an institution organized for the pur-
pose of making money, it was attended with great
expense^ and explained the principles by which the
managers were actuated, and the motives which
prompted us to spend our time and money in aiding
the poor fugitives ; which so affected the old man
that he shed tears. Having answered his questions
satisfactorily, I invited him to walk up-stairs with
me. I gave a light tap at Jane's door, which was
locked, and when it was opened, I introduced to
Jane the friend and benefactor, to whom she owed
her escape from slavery. Jane threw herself into
the Englishman's arms, and they both wept like
children. Then he took up her lovely and interest-
ing child and kissed it, after which he had a long
conversation with her, giving her much good advice.
When he bade her good-by and started away, he
gave her five dollars.

Jane's master made great efforts to find her and
the child, and after a general and thorough search
in the city, men were sent to the lake shore to
watch at different points where fugitives were wont
to take passage for Canada. He was heard to say
that he intended to find her, if he had to put one

SCEffES A T THE J)EPO 71 333

foot in hell. When I heard of this expression I re-
marked that I feared he would get both feet there,
but thought that he would not find Jane.

All this time she was safe and comfortable in her
quarters at our house. She became much attached
to "Uncle Levy and Aunt Katy, " as she called us,
and when the time came for her to leave she wept
bitterly. She was put into the care of William
Beard, that active agent for the Underground Rail-
road, who lived in Union County, Indiana, and he
took her to a colored school in Randolph County,
called the Union Literary Institute, and there left
her to attend school.

About this time, a young slave girl from the far
South, who had made her way to the Mississippi
River, and there secreted herself on an up-river boat,
by aid of a friend, arrived at Cincinnati, and came
to our house. After remaining here a short time,
she was sent to the same school which Jane attend-
ed. They studied during the summer term, and
made fine progress, but in the autumn some of the
colored people of Cincinnati visited the school, and
I, fearing that the girls might be discovered — that
the news of their whereabouts might reach their
pursuers — went to the school and bade them pre-
pare for traveling, explaining to them the exigen-
cies of the occasiorl. They had become attached
to the place and were reluctant to leave, but I told
them that they would incur a great risk by remain-
ing, and they finally consented to go to Canada if I
would accompany them across the lake. I agreed
to do so and we started together, but on the way I

334

REMINISCENCES

stopped at Oberlin, Ohio, and had a meeting with
the friends of fugitives there, and as I could not well
spare the time for the journey, a reliable and trust-
worthy gentleman offered to go in my stead. The
girls being convinced that they could put entire con-
fidence in this escort, excused me from the task,
and soon were on their way.

Some years afterward I accompanied a party of
fugitives to Amherstburg, Canada West, and there
had the pleasure of dining with Jane in her own
home. She had married an industrious man of
nearly her own color, and was comfortably situated
and very happy. If it had not been for the interven-
tion of the friends of humanity she would doubtless
have been toiling, broken-hearted, beneath the
burning sun in Southern fields, and ofttimes fallen
under the cruel sting of the lash instead of living
in peace and happiness in her northern home.

SCENES AT THE DEPOT. 335

CHAPTER X.

CINCINNATI STORIES CONTINUED — THE RAG BABY — THE

vice-president's SLAVE — THE DISGUISED SLAVE

WOLVES IN sheep's CLOTHING — SALLY, THE SLAVE
MOTHER — LOUIS AND ELLEN — THE MICHIGAN RAID.

A GENTLEMAN from the South, accompanied
by his wife, came to Cincinnati to spend a
short time, and brought with him, as waiting-maid
and general servant, one of his slave girls. He had
not been long in this city before he experienced one
of the annoyances incident to slavery — his slave girl
ran away. She had a longing to taste the sweets
of freedom, and being assisted by some friendly
colored people to whom she made known her desire,
she succeeded in getting safely away from her mas-
ter and mistress and reaching the house of Thomas
and Jane Dorum, worthy colored people, well known
for their efforts in befriending slaves, who then lived
on Elm Street. The girl remained here a short
time, but as the house was liable to be searched by
the officers whom the master would employ to look
for his missing property, it was not prudent for her
to stay. Jane Dorum or ** Aunt Jane," as she was
generally known, sent a message to my wife, asking
her to bring soniTe suitable clothing, and come pre-

336 REMINISCENCES.

pared to take the girl to our house. My wife at
once prepared a bundle of clothes and went to Aunt
Jane's. Having dressed the slave girl in suitable
apparel, she conducted her to our house, where she
remained two days. At the end of that time it
seemed advisable to take her to another place, for
the search for her was being prosecuted with much
zeal and energy, and our house was in a public situa-
tion; we lived then on the corner of Sixth and Elm
Streets.

My wife planned how she could get her away
without attracting attention, or rousing the suspi-
cions of persons who might be watching for her, and
at last hit upon a plan which seemed good. She
dressed herself in fashionable clothes, a plaid
shawl, a gayly trimmed straw bonnet, and other
articles at variance with her usual garb, and put
upon the fugitive garments suitable to the occasion.
Then she rolled up some clothes and made a rag
baby, being careful to provide it with a vail for its
head and face. This she put into the arms of the
slave girl, and thus equipped they sallied forth into
the street. As they passed along they presented
the appearance of a fashionable lady and her nurse-
girl — the servant bearing the infant in her arms.
They made their way across the canal to the house
of William Fuller, an English abolitionist, where
my wife left the fugitive, knowing that she would
be cared for.

William Beard, of Indiana, that true friend to the
slave, was in the city at the time with his market-
wagon, a large covered vehicle which often did duty

SCENES AT THE DEPOT. 337

as a car of the Underground Railroad. The case
of this slave girl was made known to him, and when
he was ready to start for home, he called at William
Fuller's house and took in a passenger. The girl
reached his house in safety, and was soon afterward
forwarded by the old reliable road to Canada.

THE vice-president's SLAVE.

Jackson, the subject of this story, was the prop-
erty of Vice-President King, of Alabama, who was
elected to office with Franklin Pierce.

While the master was at Washington, the slave
ran away from him and came to Cincinnati. He
was a barber by trade, and after remaining here
unmolested for some time, he opened a shop, in
which he served several years, having a number of
patrons and being liked by all who knew him. By
some means his master learned of his whereabouts,
and sent an agent to secure him. The man arrived
in Cincinnati, and without procuring a writ, as the
law required, resolved to take forcible possession of
Jackson. He gathered a posse of men with pistols
and bowie-knives, had the ferry-boat in waiting at
the wharf at the foot of Walnut Street, in readiness
to take them across to Kentucky as soon as they
came on board, and about noon, one day, pounced
upon Jackson at the corner of Fifth and Walnut
Streets, as he was going to his dinner, and dragged
him down Walnut Street to the wharf. Jackson
struggled with all his might and calling for help,
but most of the men of the stores had gone to
their dinner at that hour, and the policemen, who
29

338 REMINISCENCES.

were generally on the side of the slaveholders,
remained out of sight. Thomas Franklin, a Friend,
who was passing, attempted to interfere and rescue
Jackson, but the men threatened him with their
weapons, and he was obliged to desist. Jacksun
was hurried aboard the ferry-boat and taken across
to Kentucky, where his captors had no fear of his
rescue.

He was bound and carried back to Alabama,
where he remained in slavery two or three years,
and where he married a free woman, a Creole of
Mobile, who possessed some property. She was
portly in form and had handsome features, with
straight hair and olive complexion. When dressed
up, she presented the appearance of an elegant
Southern lady. A plan was soon formed to gain
Jackson's liberty. His wife was to act the part of a
lady traveling to Baltimore on business, and Jack-
son, who was small in stature, was to be disguised as
a woman and accompany her as her servant. When
all the preparations were made, they sent their
trunks on board the regular vessel for New Orleans,
and took passage for that city, in their newly
assumed characters.

At New Orleans they took an up-river boat for
Cincinnati. On the way the lady stated that she
was going to Baltimore on business, but that she
intended to stop a short time at Cincinnati, and
ordered her servant about in a haughty manner,
keeping her in her room when not engaged in some
service for her comfort. Some of the Southern
ladies on board advised her not to land at Cincinnati,

SCENES AT THE DEPOT,

339

as Ohio was a free State, and the laws of that State
declared all slaves free as soon as they touched its
borders, when taken there by their owners, but to
stop at Covington, on the opposite side of the river,
and leave her slave there while she transacted her
business. She informed those kind ladies that
she had no fears regarding her servant's running
away, or being enticed off by the abolitionists, for
she was much attached to her mistress, and would
not leave her under any circumstances.

On the other hand, several Northern ladies, who
were on board, took private opportunity to speak to
the servant when her mistress was not near, and
inform her that she would be in a free State when
she reached Ohio, and that she had better seize the
opportunity to escape.

Her answer was, that she would not leave her
mistress, and the abolition ladies desisted from their
attempts to advise and counsel, pitying the infatua-
tion of one who had rather be a slave than be free.
When the boat reached the wharf at Cincinnati, the
lady took a carriage, and, with her servant, drove to
the Dumas House, a public hotel kept by a colored
man. Jackson was well acquainted in the city and
knew where to find friends. A few hours afterward
I received a message requesting me to call at the
Dumas House, as a lady there wished to see me on
business. I went, accompanied by John Hatfield, a
colored man who was a prominent worker in the
cause of freedom, and who had received a similar
message. The landlord conducted us upstairs to
the ladies' parlor, and introduced us to the lady

340 REMINISCENCES.

from Alabama. She was a fine-looking, well-dressed
Creole, with straight black hair and olive complex-
ion, presenting the appearance of the ladies one
sees in New Orleans and other Southern cities. She
was polite and ladylike in her manner, and informed
us that she had sent for us, though she was a
stranger to us both, that she might consult us on a
matter of business. She went on to say that she
had a servant with her whose liberty she wished to
secure, and she had been referred to us for advice.
She was not very well acquainted with the laws of
Ohio, and felt at a loss how to proceed. We
advised her to have a deed of emancipation made
out. I inquired if it was a male or female servant
that she wished to emancipate, and she called
"Sal" to come from the adjoining room.

The servant came, and made a graceful courtesy
to us and stood looking at us It was Jackson,
dressed in woman's clothes, but we did not recog-
nize him, though both of us had been acquainted
with him before he was taken away.

The lady then ordered her servant to go into their
bedroom and open her trunk and get out that bun-
dle. We supposed that she referred to some papers
that she wished to show us. While the servant
was gone I asked the lady what part of Alabama
they were from. She answered, ** Mobile." I then
inquired what route they came, and she told me
of their journey. At this juncture her servant
returned, but the bundle seemed to be on the per-
son, who had turned to a man. We recognized
Jackson, the barber, at once, and greeted him with

SCENES AT THE DEPOT, 341

a hearty hand-shake. Then followed an introduc-
tion to his wife, a full explanation and a hearty
laugh over the whole affair. It was decided that it
would be unsafe for Jackson to remain in Cincin-
nati; he was too well known here. He concluded
that lie would go to Cleveland, where he was not
known, and where he could be on the lake shore,
so that, if danger appeared, he could step on board
a steamer and cross to Canada. It was decided that
his wife should remain at Cincinnati until he had
made preparations for housekeeping, and established
himself in business, if a suitable opening presented
itself. His wife had means on which she could
depend for support in the interval,

We approved of Jackson's plan, and the next
night he took the train to Cleveland. He soon
secured a comfortable house and shop, and wrote
for his wife. She joined him immediately, and
when we last heard from them they were living
comfortably and happily at Cleveland. Jackson had
a good business in his barber shop, and was troubled
with no fear of molestation.

THE PISGUISED SLAVE.

There are numerous other incidents of slaves who
escaped in disguise, and in many instances there is
humor as well as pathos connected with them. A
slave man living in the State of Arkansas resolved
to make his escape, and fixed upon a plan, at once
daring and safe. He was past middle age, spare in
form and below the medium height, so his personal
appearance favored his plan.

342 REMINISCENCES,

Procuring the free papers of a colored woman
living in the neighborhood, he disguised himself in
woman's apparel, put on a cap and a pair of green
spectacles, and provided himself with knitting work.
Thus equipped, he went aboard of a boat bound for
Cincinnati, having made up a suitable story to tell
if he should be questioned. The captain examined
his free papers, and finding everything satisfactory,
he was permitted to take passage, and the journey
was accomplished without his disguise being sus-
pected by any one.

In talking he could imitate a woman's voice, but
spoke only when spoken to ; he devoted himself
industriously to his knitting, and affected to be in
poor health. Some ladies noticing him said : " It is
too bad for that sick old auntie to sleep on deck ;
let her sleep on the floor in the ladies' cabin," and
the chamber-maid accordingly put a mattress there
for him. Arriving safely at Cincinnati, he went to
a colored boarding house, having enough money left
to pay his expenses there, but not enough to take
him on to Canada. I was sent for, and after hearing
his story raised sufficient means to purchase for him
a ticket to Detroit. Before starting on his journey
toward the North, I advised him to throw off his
female apparel and resume his proper dress, but he
said that his disguise had done him such good ser-
vice so far, that he would wear it till he reached
Canada.

WOLVES IN sheep's CLOTHING.

Disgraceful as it is to those whom it concerns, it
is nevertheless true, that colored persons sometimes

SCENES AT THE DEPOT.

343

turned traitors to their own race, and, Judas-like,
betrayed their brethren for a little money* A man
of this character, who had been sent as a spy from
Kentucky, applied to me, asking my help and pro-
tection, and seeming to be much alarmed lest he
should be captured. As other attemps of similai
character had often been made, I was on the look-
out, and was wary and guarded in what I said. I
took the man to the house of one of my colored
friends, whom I privately informed of my suspi-
cions, and told him to be on his guard till it should
be discovered whether the man was a fugitive or a
spy. It was soon ascertained that he was the latter,
and the colored people, among whom he had been
staying, arose in their indignation, took him out
of the city, and administered punishment in the
shape of a severe whipping. After this he returned
to Kentucky, and was never known to play such a
part again.

At another time, a man who had been employed,
to act as spy, by some slave-hunters of Kentucky,
came across the river in female apparel, and pre-
sented himself at the basement of a colored church,
in Cincinnati, where fugitives were in the habit of
stopping. The sexton's wife was suspicious that all
was not right, and sent for me. When I went, I
questioned and cross-questioned the suspected fugi-
tive, and feeling almost certain that it was a man in
disguise, I turned him over to the colored people,
who stripped off the female apparel, and inflicted
such a severe punishment upon him that he was

wHm

344

REMINISCENCES

glad to escape with his life, and return to the other
side of the river.

Such schemes of deception were not uncommon,
but they never succeeded in accomplishing their
designs. A white man once called at my house,
and when he was ushered into the parlor, he intro-
duced himself as a friend of the oppressed slaves,
who had often heard of my efforts in their behalf,
and wished to enter into an arrangement with me
by which a number in Kentucky could be liberated.
He made many professions of interest in, and sym-
pathy with, my work for the fugitive, but I did not
Hke his appearance and manner, and after question-
ing him closely came to the conclusion that he was
a spy. I informed him that he was ** barking up
the wrong tree," and that his little plan of engaging
me in an attempt to liberate some Kentucky slaves
would not work. I said that I had nothing to do
with slavery on the other side of the river, and did
not believe in interfering with the laws of slave
States, except by moral suasion. If persons came
to my house hungry and destitute, I received and
aided them, irrespective of color, but I had no
intention of engaging in a plan such as that pro-
posed. The man left discomfited, and I afterward
learned that he was a slaveholder, who had designed
To entrap me.

At another time a man was introduced to me as a
friend of the slaves, and proceeded to inform me
that he traveled up and down the river a gteat deal,
being engaged in some capacity on board a boat,
and suggested to me that arrangements might be

SCENES AT THE DEPOT. 345

made to help away a number of slaves. I had good
reasons for believing that he was an impostor who
hoped to entangle me in some scheme that would
cause trouble, and answered him in the same man-
ner that I had the slaveholder. Several similar
attempts to entrap me were made by agents and
spies from Kentucky, but they were unsuccessful.

SALLY, THE SLAVE MOTHER.

Sally, an intelligent woman of brown complexion,
belonged to a couple of maiden ladies who lived in
Covington, Kentucky, having become their prop-
erty by inheritance. She had been well trained in
household work, and was an excellent cook and
housekeeper, besides being skillful with the needle.
Her husband, who belonged to another family, had
been sold from her when her youngest child was a
few months old, leaving her with five children, all
girls. He was taken to the far South, and she never
heard of him afterward. Sally's eldest two daugh-
ters were hired out, but the three younger ones,
being too young to be put out to service, were left
with her at home.

Sally was a good and faithful servant, and had
never suffered the sting of the lash, or other abuse.
Her mistresses, probably to dissuade her from
taking advantage of her proximity to a free State
and running away, often told her that they intended
to set her and her children free, but the time was
deferred from year to year. Sally often reminded
them of their promise without getting any satisfac-
tory reply, and she began to feel that its fulfillrnent

346 REMINISCENCES.

was "mighty onsartain," as she expressed it, but
she had no thought of being sold until her mis-
tresses called her into the house, one morning, from
the kitchen and told her that she and her youngest
three children were sold, and would be taken away
that day. She said this announcement was like a
thunderbolt ; it struck her dumb. She almost fell
to the floor before her mistresses, but they did not
seem to pity her, or to pay any attention to her.
When she found speech she begged to be permitted
to go and see her two girls who were hired out, but
her mistresses refused her request, and ordered her
to go up-stairs to the room where she slept, and
pack up her own and her children's clothes, in readi-
ness to start away with her new master. When
Sally reached her room upstairs she set her wits to
work to find a way to escape. She managed to get
out of the window on to the kitchen-roof, then on
to an adjoining shed-roof, from which she slid down
to the ground in the back yard. She then slipped
out the back way and ran to the house of a widow
lady living near by, whom she knew to be friendly,
and hastily told her sad story. The lady deeply
sympathized with her, and being a mother she
could understand the distress she felt on her chil
dren's account. She concealed Sally in a safe place,
thinking that the children would not be taken away
unless the mother was found.

Sally was soon missed, and a diligent search was
made for her. The news spread through the neigh-
borhood that Sally had deserted, and a company of
men started in pursuit, anxious to capture the run-

SCENES AT THE DEPOT.

347

away slave. They searched among the colored
people, thinking she had .taken refuge there. They
did not think of her being so near her home, and
thus overlooked her place of concealment. In the
afternoon, when the ardor of the search seemed to
have abated a little, the widow lady came over to
Cincinnati to consult \\yth some of her friends, whom
she knew to be abolitionists, in regard to Sally.

William Casey, a worthy colored man who was a
good manager in such matters, was consulted and a
plan was soon agreed upon. Sally was to be dressed
in men's apparel and taken about midnight to a
point in the upper part of Covington, near the Lick-
ing River, where William Casey would be to receive
her, and bring her across the river. Sally being a
small woman, it was somewhat difficult to find men's
apparel to fit her, but with her friends' assistance
the widow obtained a suit of black summer cloth
belonging to a youth, which she took home with
her. Sally donned the suit and made a presentable
appearance in it, but it was rather thin for the sea-
son, it being cool weather in early spring. The
undertaking was a hazardous one, both for Sally
and for William Casey, for the bank might be
watched, but Sally's liberty was at stake, and Casey,
who was ever ready to aid his people when in dis-
tress, felt it his duty to risk his own safety in order
to rescue her from slavery. Sally's lady friend sent
a trusty companion with her to the place appointed,
and as the night was dark they escaped detection,
and the whole arrangement was completed without
discovery.

v»

348 REMINISCENCES.

William Casey brought Sally directly to our
house on the corner of Franklin and Broadway,

•

near Woodward College. Between twelve and one
o'clock in the night I was awakened by the ringing
of the door-bell. It was no alarm, for we were used
to hearing it at late hours of the night and knew
what it meant. I sprang up, dressed hastily, and
went to the front door. When I opened it I saw
William Casey and another colored person, appar-
ently a boy, standing on the steps. Casey told me
he had brought a fugitive whom he wished me to
keep in safety for awhile, and I at once invited them
in. When we reached the sitting-room, I addressed
a few questions to Casey's companion, but received
replies that denoted embarrassment. When Casey
informed me that it was a woman in disguise I was
much surprised, so completely did she make the
appearance of a boy, or young man. Seeing that
her countenance denoted trouble and tliat she seem-
ed to wish to avoid conversation, I asked no more
questions. Casey said that she would tell her story
to us in the morning, and assured her that I and my
wife were true friends ; that she could confide in us
with safety.' Casey then left us and went to his
home, I went up to our room and told my wife
that Casey had brought a fugitive woman in men's
clothing, and asked where I should put her to sleep.
She told me to take her to the fourth story, and let
her sleep with Jane Clark, our colored hired girl,
directing me first to go into another room where we
had some clothes for fugitives, and get a bundle of
women's clothes, and tell Jane to dress the fugitive

SCENES AT THE DEPOT 34^

in proper apparel. I acted according to my wife's
directions, and conducted the fugitive to the fourth
story. When we reached Jane's door I knocked on
it and called her by name, requesting her to open
the door, as I had a bed-fellow for her. She rose
and unlocked the door, then slipped back to bed.
I opened the' door and took in Sally who looked like
a man. Jane glanced at us wildly, then covered up
her head.

I felt a little mischievous and spoke command-
ingly: **Jane, thou must take this person in bed
with thee.'*

'* I sha'n't! " she exclaimed from beneath the bed-
clothes.

** Now, Jane," I said ; ** don't act so ugly; he is a
good-looking fellow. But if thou dost not like the
idea of sleeping with a man, get up and make a
woman of him ; here is a bundle of clothes with
which Aunt Katy said he could be dressed." Jane
now began to understand. She uncovered her head,
opened her big eyes, stared at Sally and exclaimed :

''That's no man; you can't fool this chile."

Sally smiled for the first time, and said: **Dear
child, I am a woman."

I retired to our room and left them to arrange
matters to their own liking. Next morning Sally
was neatly dressed and made the appearance of a
good-looking, middle-aged colored woman, below
medium stature. Her expression was intelligent,
but sad, and her countenance denoted anguish of
heart. After breakfast she was brought into our
room and related to me and my wife her touching

350 REMINISCENCES.

Story. Her heart seemed ready to break with
trouble for her children. She felt that she could not
go to Canada and leave them to suffer and d»*e in
slavery. She was sold, with her youngest three
children, to a man of whom she knew nothing, and
did not know where her children would be taken,
or whether they would be separated. Her eldest
two daughters might soon be sold and taken to
the cotton-fields or rice swamps of the far South.
Why her mistresses sold her she could not tell ;
she had had no warning of their intention. It
might be that they were pecuniarily embarrassed
and needed money. Her heart yearned especially
for her youngest child, about three years old,
who had weak eyes and was almost blind. She
would cry, *'0h, my precious child, what will it do
without mother?" then tears would stream down
her cheeks.

We advised her to compose herself and remain
quietly at our house and await the result. Perhaps
now that she was gone, her children would not be
taken away. That day the Anti-Slavery Sewing
Society held its weekly meeting at our house, and
my wife introduced Sally to the ladies and left her to
tell her story, which she did with so much pathos
and simple eloquence, that when it was finished,
there was not a dry eye in the room.

Most of the ladies present were mothers and
could sympathize with her feelings as a mother.
Her friends took measures to ascertain the fate of
her children, and learned that they had been sold to
a man living near Lexington, Kentucky. Sally was

SCENES AT THE DEFOT. 35 1

much grieved at this news, but still hoped to gain
possession of the two who were hired out. She
staid with us several weeks; then, fearing for her to
remain longer in the city, I took her to the house
of a trustworthy friend in the country, a few miles
away, where she stopped several weeks, hoping to
hear some news of her children. A vigorous search
for her was kept up, and feeling uneasy about her, I
brought her back to our house. Efforts were made
by some of her colored friends to secure the liberty
of her two children who were hired out, and we
endeavored to purchase her youngest child from her
master in Lexington, but all these efforts failed, and
Sally was finally sent on to Canada alone. I heard
from her frequently afterward. She married again
in about two years, but the consuming grief for her
lost children never left her. One daughter finally
escaped and went to Canada, but her mother died
just before she reached her. There was never a
reunion of the family on earth, but let us hope there
will be a reunion in heaven, without the loss of one.
There all their wrongs will be righted, and their
benighted souls will expand in the light and freedom
of eternity.

LOUIS AND ELLEN.

A merchant who lived in Newport, Kentucky,
and did business in Cincinnati, on the opposite side
of the river, owned several slaves, among whom
were a man and his wire, named Louis and Ellen.
They were favorites with their master and mistress,
and enjoyed many privileges not usually allowed to
slaves. They had no children, and Ellen's time was

352 nEMINISCENCES.

fully engaged in fulfilling the duties of the place
she occupied in the household. She was intrusted
with the keys and the managennent of household
affairs in general, and attended to her duties with as
much dignity as if she were a lady, instead of a
servant. She was an intelligent woman, of fine per-
sonal appearance, tall, and of light complexion,
with straight black hair. She had learned to read,
used good language, was attractive in her man-
ners, and was liked and respected by every one
who knew her. She was a member of a white
Baptist church in Cincinnati, and being consistent
in her religious professions had the esteem of her
white brethren and sisters. She often had the
privilege of attending the church to which she
belonged. Louis was a confidential servant, of
genteel manners and appearances. He was of
browner complexion than his wife, and was not
her equal in general intelligence. He was often
intrusted to make deposits in bank for his master,
and to collect checks, and generally did the family
marketing in the city. Both Louis and Ellen had
standing passes to cross by the ferry-boat to and
from Cincinnati, and occasionally the opportunity
was given them to make a little money for them-
selves. Their master and mistress often gave them
presents as rewards for their good management, or
as incentives to good conduct, and succeeded in
rendering them contented with their lot. Their
master often promised them that they should never
serve any one else. Louis and his wife saved their
money, and in the course of ten or twelve years

SCENES AT THE DEPOT,

353

accumulated about three hundred dollars, which
they deposited in a bank in Covington, Kentucky.
The cashier of the bank knew that the laws of Ken-
tucky did not allow him to deal with slaves, without
a permit from their master, but being well acquainted
with Louis and Ellen, he ventured to take their
money on his own responsibility, and gave them his
individual note, to be cashed on demand.

These were palmy days for Louis and Ellen, but
they could not last always. Slaves were never
secure ; their situation was liable to be changed at
any time, by the death or bankruptcy of their mas-
ter. Louis and Ellen experienced a sudden change
after their years of content and prosperity.

Their master became embarrassed in his business,
and was involved in debt so deeply that he decided
to make an assignment of all his property to his
creditors. This intention was concealed from his
slaves ; but Ellen happened to find it out, and felt
greatly alarmed — fearing that she and her husband
would fall into other hands, and possibly be sepa-
rated. She came over to Cincinnati and consulted
with a prominent member of her church — a book-
seller and publisher in the city. She told him her
troubles and fears, and asked him about the Under-
ground Railroad, thinking that she and Louis might
find it necessary to resort to that means to secure
their liberty.

Her friend said that he would help them all that
he could ; he knew very little about the Under-
ground Railroad, but was acquainted with a gentle-
man in the city who knew all about it, and would
30

354 REMINISCENCES

consult with him. Soon after his interview with
Ellen, he came to see me, and very cautiously told
me the story. He had never taken stock in the
road and was ignorant of its operations ; and feared
that he might involve himself in difficulty or danger.
I was much amused at his extreme caution. I told
him that the road was in good working order, and
if his friends could get across the river safely, I
would see that they were started safely on the
Underground Railroad. Ellen was over again in a
day or two, and her friend gave her the information
he had obtained, and encouraged her to put their
plan of escape in execution at once, lest the way
should be closed. Ellen replied that it would be
some time before she could be ready ; she had a
number of valuable things she did not wish to leave,
and she and Louis wanted to get their money from
the bank in Covington before they went away. Her *
friend reminded her of the danger of delay. She
replied that her greatest anxiety was in regard to
her husband — if she could prevail on him to come
over without her, and get away safely, her mind
would be easy, and she would stay awhile and get
better prepared before joining him. She did not
think they would sell her, for her mistress could not
do without her, and she thought she could manage
to get away; but Louis was not willing to leave her.
She believed her master intended to sell Louis, for
he had been trying to create a difficulty between
them ; he had tried to make her jealous by accusing
Louis of intimacy with one of the slave girls, and
had advised her to turn him off and have nothing

SCENES AT THE DEPOT. 355

more to do with him. But she knew that Louis was
innocent, and she indignantly resented the accusa-
tion. She told her master that she had lived with
her husband fourteen years, and he had always been
faithful and kind to her, and she would not believe
any such thing against him. (Some time after
Louis was gone, the sin of which he was accused
was proven on a young white man, connected with
the family. )

The day following Ellen's interview with her
friend in the city, she was arranging the dinner
about noon, when in passing the open door of the
sitting-room where her master and mistress were
talking, she heard Louis' name mentioned. She
stepped behind the door and listened, and though
the conversation was carried on in a low tone, she
heard that Loiiis was sold and was to be taken away
the next day. She was so shocked that it was with
difficulty she finished her work and arranged the
dinner table. Louis was in the kitchen, but she did
not venture to tell him the news until the family
were seated at the table ; then suppressing her agi-
tation as well as she could, she communicated to
him what she had heard. The announcement of the
trouble in store for him was so sudden and stunning
that Louis was almost overwhelmed. He could not
collect his thoughts enough to decide what to do,
but Ellen had already rallied from the shock and at
once suggested a plan for his escape. She told him
he must act at once, or his pass would be taken from
him, then handing him the market basket she told
him to go across to the city as if to get some eggs.

li^i'Mimi

356 REMINISCENCES,

She often sent him on such errands, for she had the
management of the kitchen and provided articles
for cooking ; so his movements \\\ this instance
would excite no suspicion. Louis was loth to leave
her thus, not knowing that he would ever see her
again, but she encouraged him by saying that she
would* join him in Canada at no distant day, and
urged him to start immediately, while the family
were at dinner. She gave him the address of her
friend, the bookseller, in the city, and told him to
go directly to him, and consult him in regard to
what was best to do next. Louis followed her di-
rections and told his story to the merchant. I was
sent for immediately, and when I arrived Louis was
weeping bitterly, being much dejected at the pros-
pect of leaving Ellen. I tried to console him by-
telling him that she would soon follow him, and
they would be reunited in a land of liberty; for the
present he must remain in concealment and await
results. Louis' friend, the merchant, now suggested
a plan by which his master would be misled as to
his whereabouts. The market basket was to be
filled with eggs, and placed, together with Louis'
hat and coat, on the wharf where the Newport ferry-
boat landed. The supposition was that they would
be recognized by the ferryman, who knew that Louis
had crossed on the boat a few hours before, and
that he would communicate the news to Louis' mas-
ter, who would naturally conclude that Louis, in his
despair, had thrown himself into the river and been
drowned. I was afraid that if the plan were carried
out it would alarm Ellen, but the merchant urged

SCENES AT THE DEPOT.

357

it, and I told him to manage that part according to
his liking ; I would take care of Louis, and see that
he was safely concealed.

When another hat and coat had been furnished
Loin's, instead of his, which he left at the merchant's,
I told him to follow me on the opposite side of the
street, walking a short distance behind and keeping
his eye on me ; to notice where I stopped, and to
follow me into the house a few minutes after I en-
tered ; I would meet him at the door inside. He
, did as I directed, and I conducted him several

squares to the house of J. B and wife, well

known friends to the slave. They belonged to the
colored race, but were generally taken for white

people, so light were their complexions. J. B

was quite a business man, and a shrewd manager
in Underground Railroad affairs. The house this
worthy couple occupied was their own property.
Here I left Louis for awhile, knowing that he would
be in safe hands.

The merchant carried out his proposed plan that
evening. At dusk, a sharp, trusty colored man
took the basket of eggs, and Louis' hat and coat, to
the river, and watching his opportunity when the
ferry-boat was on the other side, placed the things
on the wharf, where the boat landed. He then
passed on a short distance, and concealed himself
where he could watch the basket, and had the satis-
fiction when the boat returned of seeing the ferry-
man take them up. The ferryman at once recog-
nized the articles, knowing that Louis had been sent
to the city for eggs and had not yet returned. He

358 REMINISCENCES.

took them to the other side, and gave them to
Louis' master, who had been at the wharf there to
-inquire for Louis, and was waiting the return of the
boat, thinking he might be on it He was much
surprised when the basket, hat and coat were
handed to him, and exclaimed at once ** Louis
must have jumped into the river; poor fellow!*'
He seemed to feel regret, aside from the loss of his
property, for Louis had been his confidential ser-
vant. He took the things home and showed them
to Ellen. It was a terrible shock to her, for at first
thought she supposed that in his deep distress
Louis might have drowned himself. She said little,
however, and hope soon sprang up in her mind ;
she concluded that it might be a trick arranged by
Louis' friends to deceive his master. Her uneasi-
ness was so great that she could not sleep that
night, and next morning she wished to go across
the river and see if she could hear anything of
Louis. Her mistress said she would go with her, so
they crossed over and made inquiries about the river
and along East Pearl Street, where Louis generally
bought eggs, but gained no information. Ellen
wished to get rid of her mistress, and requested her
to remain at the house of one of her friends, on
East Pearl Street, while she went up town, among
some of her colored friends, to see if she could hear
anything of Louis. The mistress consented, and
Ellen hastened to the house of her friend, the mer-
chant. He was absent, but his wife heard Ellen's
story, and sent immediately for me.

When I arrived I found Ellen weeping, and in

SCENES AT THE DEPOT. 35^

great distress. She told me how the basket and hat
and coat had been found, and said that she feared
her husband was drowned. I told her to dry her
tears, for her husband was alive and safe.

'*Oh! where is he? I must see him!*' she cried,
transported in one moment from the deepest sorrow
to the liveliest joy.

I told her that it was not best for her to see
Louis, that such a meeting might open a way for
his discovery, and endanger his liberty, but she
begged so much that I finally yielded, and promised
to conduct her to him. She followed me along the
street as Louis had done, walking some distance
behind and going into the house she saw me enter,
and was soon face to face with her husband. The
meeting was a most joyful one ; they threw them-
selves into each other's arms, and wept happy tears.

Those who witnessed the meeting shared in their
emotion, fulfilling the injunction, ** Rejoice with
them that rejoice, and weep with them that weep."
I informed Ellen that the interview must be brief;
she must return to her mistress, whose suspicions
would be aroused by a long absence. I told her
that she must suppress all signs of gladness, or her
master and mistress would suspect that she had
heard of Louis* safety.

She replied: **They shall not learn it from me.**

We encouraged her to make her escape as soon as
possible, and join her husband in his journey to a
land of freedom. Louis was very anxious for her
to leave at once, fearing that her situation might be
changed and the chance of escape made more diffi-

3^0

REMINISCENCES.

cult, but Ellen said she did not wish to leave her
good clothes and other valuable property behind, or
to come away without getting the three hundred dol-
lars they had in bank at Covington. There was so
much excitement about Louis' disappearance that
she did not dare to attempt to get the money, lest the
movement should create suspicion. I asked if their
master knew that they had money in bank. Louis
said he knew that they had saved some money, but
did not know that it was in the bank. I then
inquired if they had a bank book, and they replied
that they had not ; the cashier liad given them his
note. I told them that was a different thing; the
cashier was individually responsible, and not the
bank. Louis said that he had rather lose the money
than to have Ellen get into any difficulty about it.

I asked Ellen if she did not think her Uberty was
worth more than the three hundred dollars, and she
said, ** Yes ! *' I then advised her not to attempt to
collect the money, but to leave her note with her
friend, the merchant ; after they were gone he could
obtain the money and send it to them.

Louis could be kept safely for several days, and
that would give her time to collect her valuables and
prepare for her escape. She must now return to
her mistress, who was waiting for her on Pearl
Street. She took her leave reluctantly and hastened
away, saying that she would try to come over again
in a few days, on the pretense of marketing.

She betrayed no signs of having received any
intelligence of Louis, and went home in apparent
great distress, completely deceiving her master and

SCENES AT THE DEPOT, 361

mistress. She succeeded in sending to her friend,
the merchant, several bundles containing her own
and Louis* best clothing; she bundled it up at night,
and, without discovery, conveyed it out of the house
to some trusty friends, who carried it across to the
city for her. In a few days she got permission to
cross the river again, and completed the arrange-
ment for her final escape. J B , at whose

house Louis was concealed, agreed to go over in a
skiff on the night appointed, land at a certain point
in the upper part of Newport — a private locality —
and wait for Ellen in an alley, not far from her mas-
ter's. As soon as the family were asleep, she was
to meet him there, with several bundles, containing
the rest of her property, and he was to conduct her
across to his house, in the city.

This plan was carried out, and J B in

company with Ellen arrived at his house about half
an hour after midnight. Ellen's friend, the mer-
chant, and I were present, and witnessed another
happy meeting of husband and wife. I told them
that they must change quarters at once ; there had
been so much passing in and out of the house that
night, that it might have attracted the attention of
policemen or others, and it would not be safe for
them to remain longer. I proposed taking them to
a place on Ninth Street, the house of a white man,
who was a strong abolitionist and who would gladly
shelter fugitives.

Ellen, who was neatly dressed, put on a vail so
that no one would know whether she was white or
colored, took my arm and we passed out of the

362 REMINISCENCES.

house. We were then on Third Street, from which
we passed to Plum, and made our way to Ninth.
Louis and the merchant, shortly after we left,
passed out, one at a time, then met and followed us
up Plum Street, walking a short distance behind.

When we reached A S *s house, I rang the

door bell. A S^ looked out of his bedroom

window, up-stairs, and recognized me at once. He
came down and opened the door and received the
fugitives.

I told him that we would call the next day and
make further arrangements for their safety ; then the
merchant and I returned to our respective homes,
walking a few squares together. This gentleman,

D A by name, was a prominent member

of Ninth Street Baptist Church, and a popular
bookseller and publisher. I told him I thought he
was initiated into Underground Railroad work, and
as he had now taken stock and had a little experi-
ence, I wanted him to manage the case then on
hand, and see that the fugitives got safely to
Canada. Perhaps he would be willing to go with
them ; Ellen was a sister in the church with him,
and that gave her a claim on him. I told him I
would give him a position as conductor on the
Underground Railroad, as I was President oi the
road. He said he was much obliged for my offer
but thought that his experience was not sufficient.

Next day D A and I examined the note

for three hundred dollars, given to Louis and Ellen
by the cashier, who had received their money. I
told them to leave it with their friend, D A

SCENES AT THE DEPOT. 363

and I would put him in a way to collect it. I asked

him if he was acquainted with T H , who

was cashier of a bank in this city, and he replied
that he was not. I 'said that I would introduce

him to T H , who was an abolitionist, and

would feel an interest in the case, and probably be
of service to him in collecting the money. Loufs
and Ellen left the note with their friend, as I
advised. The next night they were moved to
the northwest part of the city, for greater safety.

D A had proposed a plan to them which

they were anxious to have executed. He agreed to
write a letter for them to their master, dating it
some days ahead and giving Chatham, Canada
West, as the place from which it was written. This
he would inclose in an envelope and send to Elder
Hawkins, of Chatham, Canada West, a colored
Baptist minister, formerly of Cincinnati, with whom
he was well acquainted, who would mail it to their
master at Newport, Kentucky. The letter would
inform their master that they were free, yet felt that
their liberty was not complete, for if they crossed
the Canada line into the United States, their liberty
would be endangered. If he would send them deeds
of emancipation, they would give him three hundred
dollars, which was all the money they had been
able to accumulate during the many years they had
faithfully served him. He was also reminded of the
promise he had made so often, that they should be
free. This was the substance of the letter.

D A sent it to Elder Hawkins, and it

was mailed at Chatham, Canada West. It was

364 REMINISCENCES.

thought safer for Louis and Ellen to go out of the
city, and a few evenings afterward they were con-
veyed to the house of Joel Haworth, a well-known
abolitionist, living in Union County, Indiana. Here
they remained several weeks, awaiting results.

Their master answered the letter he received from
Canada ; he refused to comply with their request,
but promised them that if they ,would come back,
he would give them free papers, etc. Elder

Hawkins sent this letter to D A and

he forwarded it to Louis and Ellen, in Indiana.
They knew too well what their master's promises
amounted to, and resolved to go on to Canada.

I introduced D. A to T. H , the cashier

of abolition sentiments, and made the latter gentle-
man acquainted with the circumstances of the case.
He said at once that he would collect the money
which the note demanded ; he was acquainted with
the cashier at Covington, and if he refused to pay it
he would threaten him with the penalty of the law,
for dealing with slaves without their jnaster's per-
mission. This, however, was not necessary, for the
cashier paid the money without a word. When T.

H returned from Covington, he handed the full

amount to D. A , who carried it in person to

Louis and Ellen, in Indiana. They were much
rejoiced to receive the small sum which they had
been so many years in accumulating, and which
they had feared was lost. They were immediately
forwarded on that old, reliable branch of the Under-
ground Railroad, which extended through Union
County, Indiana, and reached Canada in safety.

SCENES AT THE DEPOT. 365

A year or two afterward I was in Chatham, Can-
ada West, and met Elder Hawkins in the street
He invited me to dine with him, and I accepted his
invitation, promising to be at his residence in time
for dinner. I had some business to attend to, and
several visits to make among fugitives who had been
at our house. Elder Hawkins pointed out his place
to me, a large brick house, and when my business
was completed and my visits paid, I started to it.
But it was with difficulty that I made my way along
the street. Many fugitives whom I had helped on
their way to freedom had settled in that place, and
the news had spread among them that I was in
town. They thronged to meet me — to shake hands
with me, and say, **God bless you!" I thought as
I made my way through the crowd that I could not
have attracted more attention if I had been the ele-
phant of a traveling show. Many of the fugitives
I did not recognize, but they remembered me. As
I approached Elder Hawkins' house, Ellen rushed
out to greet me, manifesting much joy and grati-
tude. She and Louis occupied part of the Elder's
house. Louis was not at home, as he was engaged
in tending a saw-mill, a short distance out of town.
He received good wages, and Ellen worked at dress-
making; their combined income supported them
very comfortably. She took me into their apart-
ments, which were nicely furnished, and looked
neat and comfortable. She said they lived very
happily there and were very thankful for their many
blessings. Louis had been converted and had joined

366

REMINISCENCES,

the church, and was now free, both soul and body,
which was a great joy to Ellen.

The Elder's wife had prepared a good dinner, and
we all dined together. Soon after dinner I parted
from them, feeling much pleased with my visit.

THE MICHIGAN RAiy.

The farther north from the land of slavery that a
fugitive traveled, the more friends he found, and
quite a number of runaway slaves, thinking they
would be safe in Michigan, stopped there instead
of crossing over to Canada. At a place called
Young's Prairie, in Cass County, Michigan, where
there was a settlement of Friends, and a number
of Eastern people, all stanch abolitionists, there had
accumulated quite a little colony of colored fugi-
tives who secured homes in the neighborhood.
Some families owned small patches of ground on
which they had erected comfortable little log houses,
and by industry and thrift managed to live very
comfortably.

But they were not secure in these humble, vine-
clad homes, for Southern bloodhounds in human
shape were on their trail, and had scented out
their places of retreat. Spies sent out to hunt foi
fugitive slaves in various neighborhoods in Ohio,
Indiana, and Michigan, discovered the colony at
Young's Prairie, and ascertained that most of the
fugitive*^ had come from Kentucky. Among these
spies was a young Kentuckian who professed to be
a Yankee and a stanch abolitionist. He claimed
to be an agent for some anti-slavery papers which

THE MICHIGAN RAID, y^^

he carried with him, but his speech betrayed him.
A Yankee living in Michigan said: "You are not
from New England ; you are no Yankee ; if you
were you would say keaw and not cmv. You are
here for no good purpose, and the sooner you leave
this neighborhood the better it will be for you.*'

Several of the colored families spoken of were
from Boone County, Kentucky, and their masters
learned of their whereabouts. In that county there
was a company organized for the purpose of cap-
turing fugitives, with funds for hiring pursuers. A
plan was formed to seize the negroes at Young's
Prairie and bring them back to slavery, and about
thirty men, with several two-horse wagons for trans-
porting the negro women and children, started to
Michigan. Part of the company on horseback went
ahead of the wagons to ascertain the exact location
of the fugitives, and to have all things arranged for
a simultaneous raid upon the different negro cabins
scattered around the edge of the prairie, and in
small groves in the neighborhood. They were to
make their headquarters at Niles, a few miles dis-
tant, in an adjoining county, and scatter out through
Young's Prairie in small parties, under pretense of
looking for land to purchase, or buying stock. By
this means they could obtain all necessary informa-
tion in regard to the location of the colored people
without exciting suspicion as to their real mission.
Then some of the company were to meet the teams,
and conduct the wagons to different localities in the
neighborhood, where they would camp until a late
hour at night. This arrangement appeared to con*

368 REMINISCENCES.

tain the elements of success, but it did not succeed.
Slaves often have friends living in slave States —
people whose principles are unknown to the slave-
holders. One of this class, a man living in the
neighborhood of the Kentucky slaveholders, be-
came apprised of all their plans for capturing the
fugitives in Michigan, but was misinformed in
regard to the time they were to start. He wrote
to a confidential friend in Cincinnati, informing him
of all the plans of the raiders, but stated the time
of their starting incorrectly — they started several
days earlier. His friend came directly to me and
gave me all the information he had received. I at
once set about to intercept their plans. I was well
acquainted at Young's Prairie, Michigan. There
was a settlement of Friends there, many of whom
had emigrated from Wayne County, Indiana, and
were among the early settlers of that neighborhood.
Some had formerly been my neighbors in Indiana.
I had been at Young's Prairie, and visited several
of the families of fugitives in that settlement.
Friends had established a school among them, and
they seemed to be prospering. I decided to send
a messenger at once to apprise them and their
friends of their danger. At that day, letters were
often eight or ten days in reaching Young's Prairie,
and I knew it would not do to risk sending a mess-
age by mail; it would not reach them in time.

A young man then boarding with us, an active
and energetic abolitionist, volunteered to go if his
expenses were paid. I agreed to pay his expenses,
and started him at once. As there were no rail-

THE MICHIGAN RAID. ^Qg

roads or stage lines then, we had to depend on
private conveyance for the journey. I gave the
young man letters to my friends in the various
neighborhoods in Indiana, through which he would
pass, requesting them to furnish him with fresh
horses on the stages of his journey. This was
promptly done on his way through Wayne, Ran-
dolph and Grant Counties, Indiana, and greatly
facilitated his journey to Michigan. But his labo-
rious and energetic eflfort proved too late ; the raid
was over. The Kentuckians had started several
days earlier than the time named in our informant's
letter, and their plans had been put into execution.
On the night of the raid they divided their company,
and each party made a simultaneous attack on the
negro cabins. They seized the unsuspecting inmates
as they slept, bound them, and placed them in the
wagons. There were desperate struggles at many
of the cabins, and a number of the fugitives were
bruised and wounded, before they were overpow-
ered and bound. A certain place on the prairie had
been agreed upon as a rendezvous, and thither the
different companies made their way. In one party
of marauders was a Baptist minister, who claimed
to be the owner of a negro man and his wife — ^val-
aable property. They had leased a piece of land of
Zachariah Shugart, a Friend, and had built a snug
cabin in which they had lived two or three years.
They had* one child, a babe a few months old.
Being frugal and industrious they had prospered,
and were much respected by their neighbors. The
minister and his party approached this cabin and

370 REMINISCENCES,

tried to gain entrance at the only door, but it was
barred inside and resisted their efforts. They
demanded entrance, but the negro man recognized
his master's voice and refused to open the door.

The party seized an ax, battered down the door
and entered. The negro man made weapons of
chairs or anything he could get hold of and fought
desperately, keeping them at bay for some time,
but was at last wounded and overpowered. During
this conflict his wife, leaving her babe in bed,
crawled out of a small window at the back of the
cabin and ran to Zachariah Shugart's. She gave
the alarm and then hid herself. Zachariah Shugart
mounted his horse and rode as fast as he could to
the house of his nearest neighbor, Stephen Bogue,
who had a very fleet saddle-horse. As soon as he
heard the news, Stephen Bogue, mounted this horse
and rode with all possible speed to Cassopolis, the
county seat, three miles distant, to give the alarm
and to obtain a writ and to have the kidnappers
arrested.

It was now daylight. A large company of men
soon rallied and hastened toward Young's Prairie, to
rescue the fugitives. THey were headed by a reso-
lute, brawny-armed blacksmith, called Bill Jones,
who assumed command of the party. Their com-
pany increased rapidly as they entered the prairie,
until it numbered two hundred men. The whole
neighborhood was aroused, and hastened to the
rescue.

Now to return to the cabin whence the alarm
originated. Zachariah Shugart, after carrying the

THE MICHIGAN RA ID.

371

news to Stephen Bogue, went to see what had
become of his tenants and to watch the movements
of the kidnappers. The negro man, after his brave
struggle, had been knocked down, dragged into the
yard, securely bound and placed in the wagon. The
preacher then rushed into the cabin to secure his
other property, but the wife was not to be found,
having escaped, as mentioned, through a back
window when the fight was in progress. The child
was crying, and the minister took it up from the
bed. Although it had been born in a free State, he
claimed it as his property, on the plea that the child
follows the condition of the mother — the rule in
slave States. He carried it out, supposing that
when the mother heard its screams she would come
out of her hiding-place and run to her child — but
no mother came. Young children were worth two
hundred doflars in Kentucky — too much to lose.

The minister mounted his horse with the child in
his arms, and they moved toward the place of ren-
dezvous in the main road, half a mile distant.
About the time they reached the place Bill Jones
and his company arrived, and the other companies
of raiders soon came up. The Kentuckians were all
well armed with revolvers and bowie-knives, and
thought to intimidate their assailants by threats and
a free display of their weapons. But they were
mistaken. On one side of the road stood a low
stake fence, the kind generally used on prairies.
Bill Jones and his company soon stripped the fence
of its stakes,, and with these formidable weapons,
the blacksmith commanded his party to charge,

372

REMINISCENCES.

telling them not to leave a kidnapper alive. But
fortunately for the Kentuckians, there were several
Friend Quakers present, who stepped in between
the parties and prevented a collision. The brave
Kentucky slave catchers were completely cowed,
and agreed to go quietly to Cassopolis, the county
seat, and prove their property before the proper
authorities, as the law required.

The negroes who were bound were soon released,
and Bill Jones seeing the Baptist minister on horse-
back with the infant in his arms compelled him to
dismount, and let the child's father, who was bleed-
ing irom his wounds, ride in his stead. The min-
ister he compelled to walk and carry the child in
his arms, and whenever they passed a house, the
people were called out to look at that child-stealer,
a preacher. When they reached Cassoplis, Bill
Jones further compelled hini to march up and down
the street, and called the attention of the people to
this divine, who had been stealing a negro babe,
and taunted him so much that he actually cried wilh
vexation. The raiders were here served with a writ
by the sheriff, arresting them for kidnapping, and
were committed to jail where they were kept for
several days — untl the negroes were on their way
to Canada. A fair trial was promised to the pris-
oners, and they were allowed to send to Niles for
lawyers. When the time appointed came, a kind of
sham trial was held, and they were dismissed with-
out further punishment than paying costs. These
amounted to a considerable sum, and but one man
in the company had money to pay the bill. The

THE MICHIGAN RAID.

373

main object to be gained was the freedom of the
negroes.. The kidnappers were glad to return to
Kentucky without the fugitives, and there was soon
a general move of the latter from Young's Prairie
to Canada.

After awhile the owners of some of these slaves
brought suit for the amount of their full value
against those persons who had befriended them.
The fugitive slave law visited a heavy penalty on
those who befriended slaves, not only fine and
imprisonment, but sometimes the payment of the
full value of the slaves. The case was tried in the
Supreme Court at Detroit. The trial was put off
from one session of the court to another, subjecting
those who had been sued to much inconvenience
and cost' in attending court, paying lawyers* fees,
etc. But the slaveholders failed to make out the
case against them, and the slaves were out of their
reach in Canada.

374

REMINISCENCES.

CHAPTER XI.

CINCINNATI STORIES CONTINUED — JOHN WILSON AND
ELIZA — UNCLE TOM — ROSE, THE WHITE SLAVE —
STORY OF JIM AND HIS FRIEND IN A TIGHT BOX.

JOHN WILSON AND ELIZA.

A WHITE man named John Wilson, a machin-
ist by trade, went from Pittsburg, Pennsyl-
vania, to the South, where he spent several years
putting up sugar- mills and other machinery. He
resided at Bayou Plaquemine, on the Mississippi
River, about one hundred miles above New Orleans,
and while there became attached to a young woman
nearly white, the slave of a planter named Bissell,
who lived at that place. He tried to purchase her
from 'her master that he might give her her freedom
and make her his wife, and offered a high price, but
Bissell would not sell her. The girl, whose name
was Eliza, reciprocated the sincere attachment of
Wilson, but no slave could be legally married in
that State, and it was useless to expect to be his
wife in law. She and Wilson remained faithful to
each other through several years, and in that time
two children were born to them.

Eliza's master finally became suspicious that Wil-

SCENES AT THE DEPOT.

375

son would try to take her to the North, and resolved
to separate them and send her away from him. She
was an excellent house servant, but he had her
taken from the house and sent, without her children,
to a cotton plantation which he owned about four-
teen miles from Bayou Plaquemine, and there set to
work as a common field hand. She was forbidden,
under heavy penalties, to have any communication
with her husband, as she called Wilson, and he was
warned that if he visited her it would be at the risk
of his life, but notwithstanding these threats they
managed to see each other frequently. Eliza's
master heard of these meetings, and had her se-
verely punished for her disobedience.

Wilson had friends at Bayou Plaquemine and
vicinity, and through the help of these and by
means of an arrangement made with the officers of
a Pittsburg boat running on the Mississippi, with
whom he was acquainted, he managed to get Eliza
to the river and to send her to New Orleans, where
sh6 remained for three months, supported by his
bounty. Finally, he hired a white man to take her
from New Orleans to Cincinnati, paying him two
hundred dollars for her expenses and his own
recompense. The man took Eliza on board a boat
bound for Cincinnati, but on the passage gambled
away the money that Wilson had paid him, and had
not paid her fare. He told the captain of the boat
that she was a slave whom he was taking to join her
master and mistress in Cincinnati, and that her fare
would be paid by them at that place. When the
boat stopped at Cincinnati, he told Eliza that she

376 REMINISCENCES,

was now in a free State, and could go where she
pleased, and, taking leave of her, walked down the
gangway, and was soon lost to sight in the crowd
on the wharf.

Eliza pondered awhile regarding the course she
should pursue, then started to leave the boat, not
knowing that her fare was unpaid. As she stepped
on the plank, the captain stopped her and told her
she could not go ashore until her passage money
was paid. She referred him to the man in whose
charge she had been, and told the captain to look to
him for the money, for he was responsible for it,*
and requested him to let her pass, as she was a free
woman. But the captain's suspicions were aroused
and he resolved to detain her. Thinking she was a
runaway slave, he arranged to take her across to
Covington, Kentucky, and lodge her in jail till his
boat was ready to start on the return trip, then take
her back with him and deliver her to her master and
mistress, if they could be found.

The sympathies of the colored stewaiti of the boat
had been aroused in Eliza's behalf, and he resolved
to aid her if possible. He hastened up into the city
to the office of lawyer JolifTe, whom he knew as a
tried friend of the slaves, and told the story. Joliffe
sent for me, and we immediately got out a writ for
the captain of the boat, and placed it in the sher-
iff's hands, with orders to bring him and the woman
before court. The sheriff reached the boat just as
the captain had got Eliza into a skiff, and was pre-
paring to pull across to the Kentucky shore. In two
minutes more it would have been too late. The

SCENES AT THE DEPOT. 377

sheriff took Eliza in charge, arrested the captain for
an attempt to kidnap, and brought them before the
Probate Court, the only one in session. Judge Bur-
goyne, a stanch abolitionist, who was then on the
bench, required the captain to show cause for de^
taining the woman. The captain replied that he
had no claim on her except for the amount of her
unpaid fare, which was twenty dollars, but as she
could produce no papers or other evidence that she
was free, he regarded her as a fugitive slave, and
had resolved to detain her till the truth could be
ascertained.

The Court decided that he had no right to detain
her on suspicion, and could not remove her from
the State of Ohio without legally proving that she
was his slave, and Eliza was set at liberty. Lawyer
Joliffe and I soon made up enough money to pay
her boat fare, and she was sent to a respectable col-
ored boarding-house on McAllister Street. She had
a large trunk full of clothes on the boat, having
been well supplied by her husband and friends before
leaving New Orleans, and for this she held a check.
I sent the check and the price of her passage by a
drayman to the boat, and obtained her trunk and
had it taken to her boarding-place. That afternoon
I and Preacher Green (colored), pastor of Allen
Chapel, went to see Eliza, and after convincing her
that we were her true friends, and gaining her con-
fidence, she told us her true story; she had pre-
viously claimed to be free. She said it was the
arrangement made by her husband that she should
remain in Cincinnati until he came to her, which
32

378 REMINISCENCES.

would be about Christmas time, as he could not
complete his business engagements in the South
before some time in December. She had entire
confidence that he would fulfill his promise and
come to her ; yes, follow her to the ends of the
earth, she said, for they were attached to each
other as much as it was possible for any husband
and wife to be.

It was now early spring, and as she would be ex-
posed to the danger of capture if she remained so
long in Cincinnati, it was decided that she should
be sent to Canada with a party of free colored peo-
ple who were going from Cincinnati to that country
soon, on a visit. After hearing her story, it was
deemed advisable to remove her from the boarding-
house where she was, as it was too public a place
to afford any concealment, and would be among the
first searched if her master heard of her where-
abouts and came in pursuit.

It was accordingly decided to remove her to our
house, but in order that the inmates of the boarding-
house should not know where she was gone, she
was taken, with her trunk, first to the house of
Pastor Green, and then to our house, where she
found a secure retreat. When the party of colored
people were ready to start to Canada, Pastor Green
came with a carriage to take Eliza to the depot
where she could join them, but she was unwilling
to go so much farther away from her husband and
children, and cried and begged to be allowed to
remain where she was till she could hear from her
husband. Moved by her entreaties, I finally told

SCENES AT THE DEPOT. ^yg

her that if she were willing to incur the risk of
staying, she might remain at our house, where we
would employ her at good wages, having learned
that she was an excellent house servant. She
gladly availed herself of this offer and remained.
She and her husband had arranged to correspond
under fictitious names, and I wrote several letters
for her, in which I was very guarded and careful not
to give information that would enable an uninitiated
person to understand the facts of the case. Eliza
received several letters from Wilson, inclosing
money. Letters from the North were frequently
broken open at Southern post-offices, before reach-
ing the persons to whom they were directed, in
order to intercept abolition documents, etc., and in
this way masters sometimes obtained information
of their runaway slaves. Other persons wrote
letters to Wilson for Eliza^ who were not so guarded
in their expressions, and one which purported to be
from Wilson's sister, and stated that she was in Cin-
cinnati, at the house of a Quaker, fell into the
hands of Bissell, at Bayou Plaquemine, who broke it
open and read it. He immediately inferred that the
person who pretended to be Wilson's sister was
Eliza, and after causing Wilson to be arrested on
suspicion of aiding a slave to escape, and lodged in
jail, he started in pursuit of his property.

On arriving at Cincinnati Bissell obtained a writ,
from Commissioner Pendery, and put it into the
hands of the marshal with orders to arrest Eliza, if
she could be found, adding, it was said, a hundred
dollars by way of stimulating the officer's zeal and

38o REMINISCENCES.

quickening his efforts. It was conjectured that our
house was the house referred to in the letter, but in
order to ascertain this beyond doubt, it was planned
that a deputy marshal should gain access to the
house under the pretense of peddling books, pene-
trate into the kitchen, and see if there was a person
answering Eliza's description. The plan was well
arranged and had it been kept secret might have
succeeded, but the marshal made a confidant of a
local editor — of all persons in the world ! It is well
known that a local editor can not retain an item of
news two hours, without seriously injuring his con-
stitution, and in a very short time I was made
acquainted with the whole affair. The same infor-
mation, afterward, reached me through other chan-
nels. Commissioner Pendery had informed a person
of the circumstance of Bissell's obtaining the writ,
and that person informed Lawyer Joliffe. As soon
as Joliffe heard it, he notified me. I also heard of
it through Christian Donaldson, who had been
informed of it privately.

The slaveholder before leaving Bayou Plaquemine
had written to a nephew of his, who was at school
at Ann Arbor, Michigan, giving information of
Eliza's escape, and her supposed whereabouts, and
requesting him to meet him at Cincinnati to act as
witness, if she could be found.

It so happened that this young man arrived in
Cincinnati the day that Bissell obtained the writ for
Eliza's arrest, but instead of going to see his uncle,
who was stopping at the Burnet House, he went
first to see James Burney, a lawyer. Presenting

SCENES AT THE DEPOT, 381

letters of introduction from professors in the college
lie attended, and from prominent citizens of Detroit,
he informed Lawyer Burney, that during his stay at
the North, he had been converted by the abolition-
ists, and that his real errand in Cincinnati at that
time was to prevent his uncle from gaining posses-
sion of Eliza and carrying her back to slavery, and
that he would do all in his power to aid her in
securing her freedom. Burney went with him across
the street to the office of Salmon P. Chase, to whom
also he had letters of introduction, and related all
the circumstances. Chase sent a student from his
office to accompany the young man to my store,
supposing that if such a fugitive were in the city I
would be likely to know it, and from the young
man's introductory letters inferring that he was
trustworthy, and that his intentions were what he
represented them to be.

Arriving at my store, they found that I was
absent, having gone to the railroad depot on busi-
ness, and they did not wait my return. As soon as
I returned. Lawyer Thomas, Burney's partner, came
in and informed me that Bissell's nephew had been
there to see me, and related the other circumstances
of the case. I was disposed to be cautious, and said
that I had no confidence in the anti-slavery preten-
sions of the young man, that I thought it a shrewd
scheme to gain information regarding Eliza, and
added: **He would have gained nothing from me
had I been here." Lawyer Thomas was returning
to his office, when on crossing a street he saw Bis-
sell making his way up the street toward my house.

382 REMINISCENCES.

Bissell had been pointed out to him the day before,
•and he recognized hinn. Thomas hastily returned to
my store, to put me on my guard. My store was
then on the northwest corner of Sixth and Elm
Streets ; our dwelling house adjoined it on the north,
fronting on Elm and George Streets. While Thomas
and I were standing near the front door of my store,
Bissell made his appearance on the southwest corner,
and stood for awhile, looking anxiously toward our
house, then slowly moved on to Plum Street and
around the square.

I went into the house and told Eliza that her
master was in search of her, that he had just passed
down Sixth Street, and that she must dress herself
as quickly as possible in her best clothes, and I
would send her to a safe place. The news greatly
agitated her, and she began to cry. Her chief
trouble seemed to be a fear that her husband had
got into difficulty on her account. I told her that
she had no time to cry, she must dry her tears and
act with promptness, for a great deal depended on
immediate action. Just then my wife came in ; she
had been out shopping with two young ladies who
were staying with us, one as a visitor, the other a
boarder. I gave Eliza into their charge and she was
soon made ready. They attired her in her best
clothes, of which she had a good supply which her
master had never seen. She and the other two
young ladies, all closely vailed, then walked out at
the front door, in sight of her master who had
passed around the square and was now standing on
the northeast corner of Sixth and Elm, looking

SCENES AT THE DEPOT. 383

toward the house. He was apparently deceived by
the boldness of the movement, and had no suspicion
that one of the ladies was his slave. He did not
offer to molest them or follow them, and they,
according to directions I had previously given them,
made their way to the house of Edward Harwood,
that noble friend of the slave, at the head of Elm
Street, where Eliza was to remain in seclusion until
I called for her. That evening I ordered my car-
riage brought — not to my door — but to a point two
blocks away, and entering it drove to Eliza's hiding-
place about dark. Taking her in the carriage, I
went to Mt. Auburn and there left her for greater
safety, at the house of the pastor of a prominent
church in the city.

Supposing that the marshal would endeavor to
ascertain if Eliza were at my house, I engaged a
young colored woman who answered to her descrip-
tion in regard to age, personal appearance, etc., to
come and stay at my house a week, filling the posi-
tion that Eliza had occupied. This girl was free,
and there could be no danger, even if she were
arrested. She understood the case, and was eager
for the fun.

A druggist, named Kent, whose store was on the
opposite side of the street from mine, learned all
the particulars of the case, and, being a stanch
abolitionist, resolved to have some fun at the
expense of the marshal, in case that official should
make any demonstration. He planned to have his
buggy in waiting, and as soon as the marshal was
seen in the street to drive hastily up to my door,

384 REMINISCENCES.

take in the colored girl, excitedly and hurriedly, as
if fearing pursuers, and then drive away with the
speed of Jehu. It was supposed that the marshal
would give chase, and in that case Kent would man-
age to be captured, then end the farce by having
the marshal and his posse arrested for kidnapping a
free girl. The plan pronriised well, and Kent kept
his buggy waiting till a late hour at night, expect-
ing the arrival of the marshal, but that official did
not have the moral courage to carry out his arrange-
ment for entering my house, and it all came to
nothing.

In the meantime, Bissell's lawyer informed him
that he could not take legal possession of Eliza, as
he had no bill of sale or other evidence that she was
his property, and that if he entered suit, the abo-
litionists would be sure to defeat him. Eliza had
been a present to Bissell's wife from her father, on
the occasion of her marriage, and as no paper of
conveyance had been given, she was considered in
law still the property of her first owner. It was
therefore necessary for Bissell to obtain a power of
attorney from his father-in-law, before he could pro—
ceed further in the case. He immediately dis--^
patched to Bayou Plaquemine for the necessar"?
papers, and resolved to wait in Cincinnati until the
reached him, but his nephew, representing to hi
that a week or two must elapse before they couL
arrive, invited him to return with him to A
Arbor, as he could not remain longer away fro
college. The uncle accepted the invitation, a
spent a week or two at Ann Arbor and Detroi

SCENES AT THE DEPOT, 385

When he was ready to return to Cincinnati, the
nephew telegraphed to Lawyer Burney that his
uncle would reach Cincinnati that evening, and it
would be well to have Eliza out of the way — thus
proving his anxiety and interest in Eliza's welfare
to my entire satisfaction.

Elizawas removed from Mt. Auburn to Walnut
Hills, where she remained for several weeks in the
families of prominent religionists.

Bissell staid in Cincinnati for two weeks after his
return, and made every exertion to find her, but
could get no clue to her whereabouts, and finally
gave up the search and started South. The boat on
which he took passage met another boat coming up
the river, on board of which was John Wilson, the
husband of Eliza, but the vessels passed without the
two enemies recognizing each other. Bissell had
left Wilson in prison when he came away from
Bayou Plaquemine, and expected to find him there
on his return, and prosecute him to the full extent
of the law, but when he reached home he learned
that Wilson's friends liad given bond for his appear-
ance, that he had been released from jail, and had
gone North.

We now turn to the fortunes of the husband and
wife, who had passed through such trying scenes on
ixccount of their devotion to each other. As soon
«4s Wilson arrived in Cincinnati, he came to my
liouse seeking for tidings of Eliza. I took him in
x-ny carriage to Walnut Hills, and there was a joyful
"XTieeting of the husband and wife, who remaintid so
fondly attached to each other through danger, sepa-

386 REMimsCENCES.

ration and misfortune. I gave them letters to
friends in Michigan, and they went to the home of
that noted worker in the cause of freedom, Laura
S. Haviland, who lived near Adrian, and was the
proprietress of the Raisin Institute, a school in which
students of all colors have equal privileges. Here
they remained for several weeks, and here they
were legally married.

From this place they went to Canada, and
remained there awhile, but soon returned to Mich-
igan and settled near Raisin Institute. Eliza had
previously had no advantages of education, and her
husband wishing her to attend school placed her in
the institute, while he found employment in a
machine shop at Adrian. With the proceeds of his
industry he bought a lot and a snug brick house,
near the institute, and here, after many vicissitudes,
he and Eliza found themselves in the enjoyment of
peace and plenty. Here, after carrying the hero
and heroine through all sorts of adventures and nar-
row escapes, a well regulated tale of fiction would
end with the remark that they lived happily ever
afterward, but this is a narrative of facts, and must
chronicle new undertakings and fresh scenes of
danger and distress. A motive no less strong than
that which led John and Eliza to join each other
and seek a land of freedom, now prompted them to
separate, while one braved again the dangers of the
land of slavery. The hearts of the parents yearned
for their children, and they determined to make an
effort to rescue them from bondage. Eliza, being
yet a slave in the sight of the law, could not venture

SCENES AT THE DEPOT 387

southward without jeopardizing her own liberty, so
it was arranged that she should remain behind while
John made the hazardous attempt to find and carry
off their children.

Proceeding to Pittsburg, his former home, he
made arrangements with the officers of a Pittsburg
and Mississippi River boat, with whom he was
acquainted. According to this plan, they were to
land him at a point near Bayou Plaquemine on the
downward passage to New Orleans, and on the
return trip to stop in the night at a secluded place
agreed upon — the night and the hour being ap-
pointed — where he and his children would be takea
on board, if he succeeded in getting them. He
went to the neighborhood of Bayou Plaquemine, and
by the aid of friends, with whom he communicated
secretly, succeeded in gaining possession of his chil-
dren. He proceeded with caution, concealing his
presence in the neighborhood from the knowledge
of Bissell, but by some means he was discovered
and pursued as he was taking his children to the
appointed rendezvous. He was obliged to leave
them and flee through the woods and thickets,
reaching the landing barely in time to be taken on
board the boat before his pursuers reached him.
Thwarted and disappointed in his efforts he now
sought to make new plans to gain his children,

but found that the journeys he had taken and the

•

expenses he had incurred had exhausted his ready
means, and that he must seek employment again in
order to recruit his finances. Landing at Louis-
ville, Kentucky, on the homeward trip of the boat,

388 REMINISCENCES.

he found employment in a machine shop, and made
arrangements with the officers of the boat to bring
him liis chest of tools — which he had left at Pitts-
burg- -on the next trip. In the mean time his
securities, those who had signed his bond while he
was in jail at Bayou Plaquemine, learning that he
had been seen in that vicinity again, sent an officer
to arrest him. It was known that he had taken
passage up the river, and as it was thought that he
would be in Louisville, Cincinnati or Pittsburg,
requisitions for his delivery were obtained from the
Governor of Louisiana to the Governors of Ken-
.tucky, Ohio and Pennsylvania. The officer in
search of him stopped first at Louisville, but did
not happen to find him, and went on to Cincinnati
and Pittsburg. J Not gaining any clue of him in
either of these places, the officer returned to
Louisville, and after a more extended inquiry
succeeded in finding him. The Governor of Ken-
tucky was applied to and gave the necessary per-
mission, and Wilson was immediately arrested.

To prevent his escaping on the way to Bayou
Plaquemine the officer had him ironed. The water
in the Ohio River was so low at that time — the fall
of the year — that large New Orleans packets could
not run, and the officer took Wilson by rail to St.
Louis, Missouri, and there put him aboard of a
steamer which was to start down the river next day.
Here one of W^ilson's friends, from New Orleans,
saw him, and, learning the particulars of his case,
resolved if possible to aid him to escape. Through
his influence the handcuffs of Wilson were taken oflj

SCENES AT THE DEPOT. 389

but he was still closely guarded. When night
approached, the officer arranged to take Wilson on
shore and place him in jail for greater security.

Wilson's friend learned of this and saw that his
time to act had come ; if he delayed longer it would
be too late. Giving a signal to Wilson, that the
latter might embrace the opportunity, he managed
to engage the attention of the officer a few moments.
Wilson slipped back, sprang on the wheel-house,
and from that to the wheel-house of another boat
lying at the wharf. From this he jumped on the
wharf, and as it was now dark he escaped unseen
and made his way into the city. Passing through
it, he directed his course to the upper wharf, where
he knew the Pittsburg boats lay. There he found
an engineer from Pittsburg, with whom he was
acquainted, and after hurriedly relating his story
asked to be taken on board and secreted. The
engineer had all interview with the captain, who
favored Wilson's cause, and they hid the fugitive in
the boat. Next morning the papers gave full
accounts of the affair, announcing, in double-leaded
headlines, ** Escape of a Nigger Thief," and adding
that there was a strict search for him in the city,
and that no doubt he would soon be recaptured.

The boat on which Wilson was secreted lay at
the wharf several days taking on cargo, but he was
not discovered, and in time landed safely at Cincin-
nati. He came immediately to my house and gave
an account of his adventures. I had received hun-
dreds of colored fugitives, but this was the first
Anglo-Saxon fugitive that had claimed my protec-

390 REMINISCENCES,

tion. I took him in my carriage to the Cincinnati,
Hamilton and Dayton depot, bought a ticket for
him, and saw him started on the way to Adrian,
Michigan. Wilson's box of tools were at Louisville,
in the machine shop where he had been arrested,
and he arranged to have them sent to him. In a
few days an iron-bound chest was unloaded from a
dray, on the sidewalk in front of my house. It was
addressed *'Levi Coffin, Cincinnati," but knowing
very well whose it was, I merely changed the direc-
tion to '*John Wilson, Adrian, Michigan," and
reshippcd it to its destination.

Wilson afterward made other attempts to rescue
his children, but did not succeed, and it was not till
President Lincoln issued the proclamation of eman-
cipation that these parents indulged in the certain
hope of meeting their son and daughter. Even
then they were partially disappointed, for the little
boy died before they could gain possession of him.
The daughter joined her parents, and is now married
and living in Ohio.

I met with John Wilson and Eliza again, after an
interval of eight years. After the war had closed,
but while the Union army was still at Nashville — in
the autumn of 1865 — I went to visit the colored
schools at that place, accompanied by Dr. Massey,
of London, who was much interested in the freed-
men. One day, just as we were starting from one
school building to another, I met John Wilson, who
was at work in the government machine shops at
that place. After greetings and mutual inquiries, I
asked after Eliza, and learning that she was then in

SCENES AT THE DEPOT 3^1

Nashville arranged to go to see her. After visiting
the school to which we had started, John conducted
us to his residence, and then stepped back that I
might enter first and give Eliza a surprise. They
occupied two rooms, with a passage between, on
the s< cond floor, which was reached by a flight of
stairs on the outside. I went up first, followed by
Dr. Massey and John. Just as I reached the door
of the hall Eliza was passing from one room to the
other, carrying something in her hands. As soon
as she saw me, she dropped it, and springing for-
ward, clasped me in her arms, exclaiming with great
emotion, **You saved me twice from slavery,"
while tears sprang to her eyes and rolled down her
cheeks. This meeting, and the gratitude mani-
fested by Eliza toward me, seemed to make a deep
impression on Dr. Massey, and he often referred to
it afterward.

John and Eliza soon after returned to their com-
fortable little home in Michigan, and since that have
visited us in Cincinnati several times.

UNXLE TOM.

While we lived at the corner of Franklin and
Broadway a runaway slave came to our house in
an extremely cold time in the middle of winter.
He had been brought up in the neighborhood of
Lexington, Kentucky, and belonged to a well-
known politician, T. M . His master had

hired him to a cruel task-master, living about
twenty miles from Lexington, who treated him
with much harshness, often whipping him unmer

wUm^

392 REMINISCENCES.

cifully. He finally concluded that he would bear
it no. longer, and made his way back to his mas-
ter. He told his master how cruelly he was treated
and plead for a change of situation, but his mas-
ter was unmoved and ordered him to go back to
his new home, threatening him with severe punish-
ment if he disobeyed. He left his master, but not
to return to the cruel man to whom he was hired.
He had a different purpose. He said he had heard,
through some free colored people in Lexington,
that there was a good man living in Cincinnati, by
the name of Levi Coffin, who was a great friend to
the negroes, and would help runaway slaves on their
way to Canada — that country where all were free.
He thought he would try to get to Cincinnati and
find this man. He had been told that the railroad
from Lexington led to Cincinnati, and he concluded
to follow it. After going a short distance as if
intending to return to the man who had hired him,
he hid himself and waited till night, then got on the
railroad and walked rapidly on the ties, facing the
cold north wind. The distance to Covington was
ninety-six miles ; he thought he walked and ran on
the railroad about fifty miles that night. When
daylight came he hid himself in some corn shocks in
a field, and here, in consequence of his exposure in
his heated and exhausted condition, he took a severe
cold. Next night he made slow progress on his
journey, being stiff and sore. When a train passed
he concealed himself in the thickets, then contin-
ued his painful journey along the railroad track.
When daylight appeared he sought a hiding place

SCENES AT THE DEPOT 3^3

again among some com fodder, but suffered greatly
from the cold. Having little left of the scanty
morsel of food he had provided himself with, he
began to feel the pangs of hunger. The third night
he reached the Ohio River, but could find no way
to cross. The river was not frozen over, but ice
was forming, and it was dangerous to attempt to
cross in a skiff even if he had found one. He
almost perished with cold and hunger that night.

In the morning he went to the outskirts of Cov-
ington, and ventured into a negro hut, where he
was supplied with provisions and allowed to remain
through the day. The next night he was assisted
by a free colored man to cross the river, in a skiff,
below Covington. He was directed to the house of
a colored man living near the river, of whom he
inquired concerning me, saying that he wished to
see me. The colored man knew me, and at once
conducted him to our house.

He was a stranger and we took him in, hungry

and we fed him, not naked but very destitute and

we clothed him, sick and we ministered unto him.

He was a noble looking man, in the prime of life,

of good muscular development, and a pleasant and

intelligent countenance. When he entered, my

wife exclaimed, ** Here's Uncle Tom!'* and he was

afterward called that by all the inmates of the house

and those who visited him. The deep cold he had

taken settled on his lungs, producing a hard cough,

and, notwithstanding care and kind treatment, it

<ieveloped into lung fever. He was soon confined

•*o his bed, and we called in Dr. W. H. Mussey,

394

MEMimSCENCES,

who was ever ready to give aid or medical attention
to fugitives and other poor people without charge.
The doctor found poor Tom very ill, and requiring
prompt attention and careful nursing. We hired a
good nurse to stay with him day and night, and Dr.
Mussey was indefatigable in his attentions.

Tom had been a strong healthy man, and his
vitality did not yield easily to the disease that u-as
preying upon him. For a slave, one whose lot had
been cast in that system which tended to trample
out every spark of intellect and reduce men and
women to the level of brutes, Tom possessed un-
usual intelligence. He was a professor of religion
and loved the words of the Bible, though the priv-
ilege of reading them had been denied to him.
Our boarders manifested great interest in Uncle
Tom, and rendered him many kind attentions.
Favorable symptoms now and then appeared which
encouraged hopes of his recovery, but cold and
hunger and exposure had done their work, and the
disease was too deeply seated for human skill.

Dr. Mussey called in other prominent physicians
to see Tom, and consulted with them regarding his
case. This was done several times during his illness,
which lasted nine weeks. At first, Tom was quiet
and rational, then delirium appeared and his mind
wandered. He became alarmed at every noise he
heard in the house or street, thinking that it was
his master coming after him, and would beg pit-
eously to be taken to the house of that good man,
Levi Coffin. His attendants could not persuade
him that he w^s already there, and when I would

SCENES AT THE DEPOT 3^5

go to his bedside and tell him that he "was safe at
my house, whence no fugitive had ever been taken
by their masters, he would seize hold of me and beg
me to save him, adding, ** If master catches me, he
will stretch me out on the ground with stakes, and
cut my back to pieces, and I am too weak to bear
itr I will die."

I would talk to him in a soothing manner, assur-
ing him of his safety, and he would grow calm, then
again start up in the delirium of fever, and beg to
be boxed up and sent to Canada, or to be carried to
the house of Levi Coffin. Then he would assume
another phase; he was independent, he feared no
man, the Lord was with him ; he was a missionary
sent out to preach the gospel, and would pray and
preach in a voice so loud that it could be heard in
the street. He sometimes imagined that he was
out on the wide ocean, or in a river steamer, or in
the cars. At other times he would imagine himself
pursued and attacked by bloodhounds, then he
would Spring out of bed and lay hold on anything
he could reach, with which to defend himself. As
his ravings became more violent, two men were
required to control him. He fancied that we were
all his enemies, that his nurses and the doctors were
trying to poison him, and he refused to take medi-
cine or nourishment of any Kind. What was given
him had to be administered by force. At one time
he did not close his eyes in sleep for forty-eight
hours. The doctors decided to try stimulants, and
forced him to take a small quantity of brandy and
egg, every hour, during one afternoon. This had

3^ REMINISCENCES.

the desired effect; he dropped into a quiet doze
that evening and awoke in a calmer frame of mind.
A few more doses of stimulant were given him, and
about ten o'clock he fell into a peaceful sleep, awak-
ing next morning at daylight in his right mind« He
took a little nourishment and seemed to revive. It
was a lesson of instruction to be in his room ahd
witness his resignation to the will of his Divine Mas-
ter, and to hear him talk of his religious experience
and the goodness of the Lord. Several ministers
visited him and had seasons of prayer v/ith him.
For several days the doctors had great hopes of his
recovery, but an unfavorable change in his disease
took place, and he quietly and peacefully passed
away at two o'clock on the sixth day of the week,
after being confined to his bed at our house for nine
weeks, and requiring a great deal of care and ex-
pense in nursing, which I can say in truth we will-
ingly rendered.

We had poor Tom neatly dressed, and obtained a
nice coffin from the undertaker, also hiring a hearse
and two carriages. The funeral was appointed at
two o'clock. Sabbath afternoon, in Allen Chapel, on
Sixth Street, the largest colored church in the
city, and notice of it was given in all the colored
churches. Rev. George Rogers, a white Wesleyan
minister, volunteered to preach the funeral sermon,
A large congregation gathered, of both colored anc
white people, and the chapel was filled to its utmo5
capacity. The coffin was placed in front of th
pulpit. I took a seat by the side of the ministf
and at the close of the sermon, I gave a short 1

SCENES AT THE DEPOT.

397

tory of Uncle Tom, of his death struggle for free-
dom, his sufferings and long sickness, his dying
expressions and happy close of life. Then the
large congregation moved quietly up one aisle and
down the other, to view the peaceful face of the
dead fugitive. A number of private carriages joined
the funeral procession and followed the body to its
resting-place in the colored burying ground at
Avondale.

A few days after Uncle Tom's death, an old
lady, a prominent member of Ninth Street Baptist
Church, called to see us, and said: " I have been
thinking that you and your wife will occupy a high
place in heaven for nursing and taking care of Uncle
Tom."

I replied: "Thou hadst better advise us not to
depend on works for salvation. If we have true
faith, we shall do good works. We have done no
more than our duty ; works without faith will not

save us."

The day that Uncle Tom died I was tempted to
send a telegram to his master, informing him that
his slave was at my house, and that if he would
come at once he could get him, knowing that he
could reach here by railway before the funeral.
Then, if he came, I would take him into the room
and show him the form of poor Tom, cold in death.
I thought strongly of doing this, and was urged by
others to do it, but, on mature deliberation, I de-
cided that it would not be advisable.

398

nEyuMscEycES.

TROL'BLES OF A LOUISVILLE ABOLITIOXISr:.

At the time that I was engaged in the work of
the Underground Railroad at Cincinnati, there lived
in Louisville, Kentucky, a man whom I will call
Jones, who was in sentiment a strong abolition-
ist, and who aided runaway slaves whenever it was
in his power. The colored people of Louisville,
learning that he was kindly disposed toward their
race, frequently applied to hhii for counsel and
assistance when in perplexity or distress.

Louisville was the headquarters in Kentucky
for slave-traders, buying negroes for the Southern
market, and coffles were often brought in from the
surrounding country, preparatory to being shipped
on the packets for New Orleans or other Southern
ports. Occasionally husbands or wives, who had
been separated from their families, would escape
from these coffles and make their way to some safe
hiding-place among their colored friends, where
Jones would be summoned to hear iheir sad stor}-,
and to devise some plan of aiding them to escape.
After waiting till pursuit was over, he would pro-
ceed to the Cincinnati and Louisville packet, lying
then at the wharf, and. in his own or some fictitious
name engage a state-room for the passage to Cin-
cinnati, and get the key of the room. A short
time before the boat started, and while there was a
great bustle on the wharf and along the gangway,
he would have tlie fugitives come on board with
their bundles — as if they were servants bringing the
baggage of their master or mistress — and would

SCENES AT THE DEPOT ^gg

direct them by a prearranged signal to pass into
the room which he had engaged. Here they found
the key on the inside of the door, and immediately
locked themselves in.

After a state-room had been engaged, the fare
paid and the key given up, no officer or servant of
the boat had a right to go into the room, and the
passengers would be unmolested on their way to
Cincinnati. Jones was always careful to engage
and pay for both berths of a state-room, that no one
else might occupy part of it. At different times he
came to Cincinnati on the same boat with the
fugitives and conducted them to my house. The
packet boats left Louisville in the morning and
reached Cincinnati before daylight next morning,
and when he did not come himself, Jones would
telegraph to me to apprise me of the coming of the
fugitives, and request me to look out for them.
This information and request were conveyed in a
manner that could convey no suspicions of the truth
to others. Sometimes the message read: **Go to
box seventy-two, at the post-office, and take charge
of my letters or papers which you will find there; '*
at other times, *' Pay forty-three dollars to Dr. Peck
on my account;" different numbers being used at
different times.

I understood that the number mentioned desig-
nated the number of the state-room in which the
fugitives were, and could tell whether it was in the
gentlemen's or the ladies* cabin. I arranged for
some person to go aboard the boat when it reached
the wharf, tap at the door mentioned in a way that

400

REMINISCENCES.

the fugitives would understand, wait till the door
opened enough for him to be recognized, then walk
away ; the fugitives would follow him. A colored
person was generally chosen to perform this mission,
and passed unnoticed amid the crowd of colored por-
ters, draymen and hackmen, who went up and down
the gangway, carrying baggage and assisting passen-
gers. Sometimes the fugitives had a trunk of cloth-
ing, and as Jones saw that it was checked before
leaving Louisville, there was no trouble in present-
ing the check at Cincinnati, after the fugitives were
safe at our house, and obtaining the trunk.

In this manner, during one spring and summer,
twenty-seven slaves safely escaped from Louisville,
and reached my house in Cincinnati. Among these
were many interesting cases, but a reference to
them would make this story too long. They were
sent on to Canada, where many of them had friends,
or husbands, or wives, who had made their escape
previously.

Escaping detection in all the cases where he had
been implicated, Jones was finally arrested, in a case
where he was innocent, tried in court, and convicted
on false evidence. Aiding a fugitive slave was at
that time a grave offense, and he was sentenced to
three years in the penitentiary. On account of
some flaw in the evidence, or illegality in the pro-
ceedings, his lawyers petitioned for a second trial,
which was granted, but he was again found guilty,
b\ another jury. His sentence this time was less-
ened to two years.

Some new witnesses having been discovered whose

SCENJ^ AT THE DEPOT 401

evidence it was thought would prove his innocence,
a petition for a third trial was made and granted.
This was the fall term of court, and he was returned
to jail to await the next term. His bail bond was
fixed at one thousand five hundred dollars, but he
not being blessed with an abundance of this world's
goods could not raise the amount. He was a
weakly man, and his previous imprisonment and
present confinement in jail, during cold weather,
were a further injury to his health. He became very
ill and his physician thought that he could not long
survive unless he was released from prison, and
restored to his home where he could be nursed and
cared for by his family. Through the influence of
his lawyer and physician, his bail was reduced to
one thousand dollars, and his wife and step-daughter
went to work to raise this amount to indemnify a
prominent citizen of Louisville, who had agreed to
sign his bond. But it could not be expected that a
man who was guilty of aiding a slave to escape
would have many friends in a slave State, like Ken-
tucky, where a negro-stcaler, as an abolitionist was
called, was looked upon as worse than a horse-thief,
and Jones' wife and daughter found it impossible to
raise the amount required. Six hundred dollars
was the utmost they could command. Jones* step-
daughter, an amiable young lady of about eighteen,
wrote to me, giving the particulars of the case, and
appealing to me in a very pathetic manner to try to
raise the remaining four hundred dollars required.
With the exception of Jones himself, the family
were strangers to me, but my sympathies were

402

REMINISCENCES.

aroused in their behalf, and I wished to aid them.
I had, however, just finished helping a colored
woman to raise a sum of money to purchase her
daughter from slavery, and felt that in this instance
I could not render any considerable aid.

I wrote a reply to this effect, inclosing a small
sum of money in the letter as a token of my sym-
pathy. In a short time I received another letter
from the same source, acknowledging the receipt of
my favor, and still urging me to make an effort in
her father's behalf, saying that he would die if not
removed from prison. Thomas Wistar, of Philadel-
phia, one of my intimate friends, was in Cincinnati
at that time on business, and I showed him the
young lady's letters and related the circumstances
of the case. He was much interested, and his
sympathy aroused. He gave me five dollars to
send to Jones' family, and I forwarded it at once,
again expressing my personal inability to do any-
thing that would materially aid them.

Not long afterward there came a third letter,
pleading with me most earnestly to make an attempt
in some direction to raise the four hundred dollars
still lacking. I sent this letter to Thomas Wistar,
who had returned to Philadelphia, and asked him to
lay the case before those who might be interested,
and if they could feel with '* those in bond as
bound with them," to solicit them to contribute.
He replied that he would show this letter to
various friends of his, and report results from time
to time. He wrote frequently, saying he had
received subcriptions to be applied as desired, and

TRIP TO LOUISVILLE.

403

in a few days directed me to draw on him for three
hundred and fifty dollars, adding that I must raise
the remaining fifty dollars. I called on Abram and
James Taylor, and showed them Thomas Wistar's
letter. They advanced the fifty dollars at once,
and I drew on Thomas Wistar for the amount des-
ignated, and thus had the four hundred dollars
required. The next question was how to get it to
Louisville, and have matters there properly adjusted.
I knew that prompt action was necessary if Jones
was benefited, for the weather was extremely cold,
and he was lying sick in jail. I had already devoted
considerable time to the matter, and tried to find
some suitable person to go in my stead, but in this
I failed and the duty seemed to devolve on me.

The Ohio River was frozen over, and there were
no boats running. I started to Jeffersonville on the
early train, hoping to reach Louisville that after-
noon, but the track was covered with ice and snow,
the water-tanks were frozen, and owing to the diffi-
culty of travel the train was behind time. Miss-
ing connections at Seymour, I did not reach Jef-
fersonville till midnight, and here I was told that
I could not cross the river, as the ferry-boats had
stopped running on account of the ice. Next morn-
ing I went to the wharf, and finding two men who
had a sfkiff, I made arrangements with them to take
me across. There was a narrow channel free from
ice where the water was swift, and by skillful man-
agement a boat might pass through this nearly to
the opposite side. Walking a hundred yards or so,
on the ice, we reached the place where the skiff

404 REMINISCENCES.

lay, and getting into it, the men pulled up cun-ent
through the channel, occasionally nneeting floes and
cakes of ice coming down the stream. At such
times, it was necessary to pull up the skiff on the
stationary ice till the floating ice passed.

When nearly to the opposite shore we came to a
mass of ice that had been jammed up edgewise.
The skiff could go no farther, and I left it and
walked the rest of the way. It was a hazardous
undertaking to attempt to spring from one sharp
edge to another, but I reached the shore in safety,
and made my way to Jones* house. When I intro-
duced myself to the wife and daughter, and made
known my errand, I felt amply repaid for all that I
had done. They burst into tears and thanked me
again and again, seeming unable to express the full
measure of their gratitude. It was then eleven
o'clock A. M., on the last day of the week, and I
had but little time to spare, as the train on which I
wished to return left Jeffersonville at two p. m., so
I sent immediately for the lawyer, and when he
arrived paid the money into his hands, taking a
receipt for it. The limited time at my command
did not admit of my going to the jail to see Jones,
but the lawyer agreed to get him out of prison that
afternoon.

Learning that a channel had been cut across
the river at New Albany, I took the stage to the
ferry-wharf, and arrived while the boat was on the
opposite side. I had to wait some time, and the
delay increased my impatience, but Anally the boat
returned, and I reached New Albany. I found that

TRIP TO LOUISVILLE.

405

I had a very short time in which to reach Jefferson-
ville, and looked around for a conveyance, but the
omnibuses had all gone. I started up town to find
a livery stable, but seeing a man in a sleigh drawn
by two good horses, I ran to him and told him if he
would take me to the depot, in time for the train, I
would give him a dollar. The man replied that he
had fast horses and thought he could make the dis-
tance — nearly three miles — in time, so off we started
at flying speed. When we came into Jeffersonville,
before quite reaching the depot, the train began to
move off. I tossed a dollar to the man, sprang out
of the sleigh, and running as fast as I could, caught
the last car, being pulled up by a gentleman on the
rear platform. I reached home early in the morn-
ing. Jones was released from jail a few hours after
I left Louisville. He had taken a deep cold, and
was reduced quite low with severe illness, but after
several weeks of suffering his health improved, so
that he was able to attend to business, and a few
weeks before the opening of court he came to Cin-
cinnati, in the hope of obtaining another witness in
his case.

He came at once to my house, wishing to consult
with me in regard to risking a third trial. I called
a meeting of several of our prominent anti-slavery
men, to deliberate on the subject. We thought
that there was no probability of his being cleared at
his next trial, and advised him not to return, but to
forfeit his bond. Jones seemed to have some hope
that he would be cleared, but as he had been twice
convicted on false evidence, we thought that there

4o6 HEMiyrSCENCES.

was little prospect of a jury of slaveholders ac-
quitting him of the crime he was charged with,
that of aidinj^ a fugitive.

Some of us knew that he was innocent in that
case, but that in many other cases he was guilty,
and that if convicted the penitentiary would be his
doom. Jones finally agreed to forfeit his bond and
not return. He wrote to his wife, informing her of
his decision, which was in accordance with her
advice. I gave him a room in an upper story, and
he staid at our house for some time. His case
came up in court, but he did not ap[>ear, and his
bond was forfeited. When court was over his wife
came to see him and spent several days, but it was
thought best for her not to leave Louisville any con-
siderable time, for Jones* prosecutors might attempt
to trace his whereabouts, through her, and she
returned to her home. His enemies seemed deter-
mined to hunt him out, and supposing him to be in
Cincinnati, they obtained a requisition on the Gover-
nor of Ohio, from the Governor of Kentucky, for a
permit to arrest him. Jones' wife wrote to him
from Louisville, giving him intelligence of this
movement — addressing the letter to me that no clue
to Jones might be obtained. I at once wrote to
Salmon P. Chase, then Governor of Ohio, giving
him the particulars of the case, and requesting him
to let me know if he was applied to for a permit to
arrest Jones.

Chase immediately wrote to his former law partner
in this city to inform me that, if occasion required, I
would hear from him. Close search was made for

SCENES AT THE DEPOT 407

Jones, but his enemies failed to get any clue to his
whereabouts, and they never applied to Governor
Chase. When matters became quiet and the search
seemed to be over, Jones' wife joined him, and they
took rooms in another part of the city. But they
had been settled in their new home only a few weeks,
when Jones was discovered by a Louisville officer,
who was about to arrest him without legal authority
and hurry him off to Kentucky. Jones narrowly
escaped by slipping out a back way, and resolved to
leave the city at once and seek a place of security.
He and his wife removed to Iowa, where they
remained for several years ; then returned to Cin-
cinnati, and are still living here. The daughter
married in Louisville and remained there. After
his return to this city, Jones entered the Eclectic
College, studied medicine, and is now a practicing
physician.

ROSE, THE WHITE SLAVE.

Among the fugitives who escaped from Louisville
and reached Cincinnati, by the aid of Jones, was a
woman whom I will call Rose. She was so nearly
white that a stranger would never suspect that there
was a drop of African blood in her veins. Her
form was tall and graceful, her face beautiful, and
her expression one of intelligence. She had long,
straight black hair, and her hands were as delicate
as those of any lady. Although she was a slave,
she had never experienced any of the hardships and
cruelties of slavery. She was the property of a man
who lived in the central part of Kentucky, and
being a favorite house servant, she was kindly

408

REMISISCESCES,

treated by her indulgent master and mistress. She
had a comfortable home, and her tasks were the
lijjhter work of the household, and the use of the
needle. But her lot did not remain unshadowed by
the evils of slavery. She was seduced by her mas-
ter and became the mother of a handsome boy,
apparently white. On account of the disturbance
which this created in the family, the master took
Rose and her child to Louisville, and hired her for a
house servant to an acquaintance of his who owned
no slaves. According to the terms of their written
agreement, made for a specified number of years,
the employer was to pay fifty dollars a year for her
services, and to clothe her and the child, beside
paying doctor's bills in case of their sickness..

To Rose's great comfort, she found her new mas-
ter and mistress to be kind-hearted Christian people.
They treated her and her child with kindness, and
her new home proved to be a pleasant one. Her
little boy soon became the pet of the family. When
he grew large enough to attend «;chool, he was ad-
mitted to the white schools, as he showed no trace
of colored blood. He was a bright, intelligent
child, and made rapid progress in learning. When
the term of }'cars for which Rose had been hired
had nearly expired, her employer received a letter
from her master stating that he had sold his farm
and Avas preparing to move to Mississippi, and
wished Rose and her child to be in readiness to join
him and his family when they came to Louisville to
take a down-river boat. Her employer imparted
this intelligence to Rose, and said tliat he and his

SCEAES AT THE DEPOT. 409

wife were sorry to part with her, but that she must
obey her master's orders. Rose was filled with dis-
may at the prospect of leaving her comfortable
home and going to the far South. Her little boy,
she knew, would then be a slave, for in slavery the
chili followed the condition of the mother, and for
herself she dreaded some hard fate, worse than she
had yet known. She might be sold to a cruel
master and made to toil in the cotton fields, beneath
the driver's lash, or she might become the property
of some sensual wretch, and she would choose death
rather than such a lot. She began to plan a way to
escape. Some colored people who knew that Jones
was disposed to aid fugitives directed her to con-
sult with him. She sought an opportunity and had
an interview with him, during which the whole mat-
ter was arranged.

The family with whom Rose had been living had
often given her money for her faithful services,
beside paying her master the amount agreed upon,
and she had saved a sum more than sufficient to pay
her passage to Cincinnati. She also had a supply
of good clothing for herself and her little boy, and
a large trunk. She began to pack her things and
make ready for traveling. Her indulgent mistress
seemed to understand that she contemplated making
her escape, but placed no obstruction in her way.
On the contrary, she seemed disposed to encourage
her attempt, but asked her no questions lest she
should be, in turn, questioned by Rose's master
when he came.

Jones went to the Cincinnati packet, and engaged

4IO

REMINISCENCES.

a state-room for a lady and her little boy, entering
fictitious names on the clerk's book. He paid for
both berths and obtained the key to the room.
Later he managed to send Rose's trunk aboard and
have it checked for Cincinnati. Rose dressed her-
self in her best clothing and put a thick vail over
her face, and then, leading her little boy, she went
aboard the boat, passing unnoticed in the bustle and
crowd. In the cabin she saw Jones, who passed
before her into the ladies' cabin, and made a signal,
designating the room she was to enter. She went
;n, and finding the key on the inside, locked the
door. She and her little boy were unmolested on
the trip, and arrived safely at Cincinnati about four
o'clock next morning.

In the meantime Jones had telegraphed to me,
requesting me to go to box 72 and take charge of
his papers until called for. I knew from the number
that the state-room referred to was in the ladies'
cabin. Just at daybreak, when people began to
leave the boat, and draymen and hackmen were
going on board to look for freight and passengers,
I sent a man to the boat who went to the room
numbered 72, and gave a tap on the door that Rose
understood. She opened the door and followed the
man ashore, and was soon safe at my house, with
her little boy. When her vail was removed it \i'as
difficult for us to realize that the handsome, well-
dressed lady who sat before us was a fugitive slave.
The tinge of African blood in her face was so slight
that it was hardly noticeable. Her boy, a hand-
some little fellow, was as white as any child. When

SCENES AT THE DEPOT. 41 1

breakfast was over and Rose had recovered from the
first excitement of her arrival, we took her into our
room, and she related to me and my wife the par-
ticulars which I have given. We were deeply
interested in her at once, and felt that we wanted to
exhibit these white slaves to some of our acquaint-
ances, whose sympathies had never been so strongly
enlisted for the slave as ours had been. I invited
several prominent citizens, who were not abolition-
ists, to call at my house, saying that I had recently
received a curiosity from the South which I wished
to show them. They responded to the invitation,
and came at the time appointed. I assured Rose
that she need not feel any fear or embarrassment in
the presence of the men to whom I was about to
introduce her; they were all men of honor and high
standing, and would give no information that might
lead to her detection. I then conducted her into
the parlor where they were seated, and introduced
her and her little boy as fugitives, fleeing to a land
of liberty. The gentlemen were greatly surprised,
and said: "Can it be possible that they are slaves,
liable to be bought and sold? It is a shame."

They asked Rose many questions, which she
answered with clearness and in a ladylike manner,
manifesting a keen sense of her degradation as a
slave. The gentlemen seemed deeply interested in
her case, and expressed much concern for her wel-
fare, saying that they hoped she would reach a land
of liberty in safety. While Rose was at our house
I introduced her to a number of other persons,
whom I wished to interest in behalf of the poor

412

REMINISCENCES.

slaves in bondage, as well as the fugitives who
escaped.

After she had been with us several days, John
Jolliffe, that noble advocate of liberty, took her to
his house, as he wished to invite some of his law
brethren to see her and her boy. She remained
there several days, and Lawyer Jolliffe introduced
her to Judge Storer, and other prominent members
of the bar. Much interest was manifested by all
who saw and talked with her. Some thought that
no effort would be made to capture her, and that
she might be safe in Cincinnati, but Rose thought
that it would be unsafe to remain here, as her mas-
ter might empower an agent to hunt her out and
capture her. John Jolliffe and I decided that it
would be best for her to go farther north, so I
bought a ticket for her to Detroit, and saw her and
her child safely started on their journey. I after-
ward heard from her ; she was living in Detroit and
doing well.

STORY OF JIM AND HIS FRIEND IN A BOX,

Not far from Louisville, Kentucky, there lived a
slave whom I will call Jim. He had a wife and one
child, who belonged to a different master, a person
Mving in Louisville. Jim's master was more indul-
gent than some slaveholders, and allowed him the
privilege of visiting his wife frequently. Jim's
parents having grown old, and become worthless, in
the sense of property, had been emancipated by
their master, and as they could not, according t(^
the law of Kentucky, remain in that State and b

SCENES AT THE DEPOT. 413

free, they had been sent to Ohio, and had settled at
New Richmond, twenty miles above Cincinnati,
where some of their relatives, free colored people,
were living. After they had lived here a year or
two, Jim solicited the privilege of going to see them
and carrying some presents to them. The work of
the summer was over and he had accumulated a
little money, enough to pay the expenses of the
trip. After some deliberation, his master consented
to give him a pass for a week's absence, and per-
mitted his little brother, about twelve years old, to
go with him to see their parents. He thought there
was no danger of Jim's not returning promptly, for
he knew that he was much attached to his wife and
child, and thought that he would not leave them.

But Jim had other thoughts in his mind; he had
a yearning to be free. Although he had a kind
master he knew that his situation was liable to
sudden change. His master might die, or become
involved in debt and be obliged to sell him, or his
wife and child might be sold away from him. These
thoughts Jim had revolved in his mind for some
time, and he now resolved to make a bold .stroke
for freedom. He also had a plan for aiding one
of his friends, a slave, whom I will call Joe.

Joe was the property of a man living about thirty
miles from Louisville, but being cruelly treated by
his master he ran away, and secreted himself among
some colored friends in that city. Jim's plan for
aiding Joe was to nail him up in a goods box, and
ship him to New Richmond, pretending that the
box contained some things which he was taking to

414

JiE\nNJSCENCE&

his parents at that place. By the aid of some of his
colored friends this was accomplished without at-
tracting suspicion. Joe disposed himself as com-
fortably as he could in the box, the cover was nailed
on, and it was directed to Jim's father at New
Richmond, in care of Jim himself Then it i^-as
conveyed to the wharf on a dray, to be placed on
board the Cincinnati packet as freight for New
Richmond. Jim had gone to the boat before and
paid the price of passage for himself and little
brother to Cincinnati. He showed his pass to the
captain and informed him that he had a box to take
with him to his father, on which he wished to pay
the freight to Cincinnati in advance. This was sat-
isfactory to the captain, and the weight being
marked on the box, which was now on the wharf,
Jim paid the freight required. The mate ordered
the box to be rolled on board, but Jim took hold
and helped the deck hands carry it on deck, and
saw that it was placed right side up. The boat
arrived at Cincinnati before daylight next morning,
and landed at the foot of Main Street. Jim wished
to know if his friend was all right, and watching his
opportunity when the deck hands were engaged in
another part of the boat, he leaned down and whis-
pered through a crack in the box, "Joe, is you
dar?"

The answer came back, in muffled tones: " I's
hyar, all right."

The wharf of the Maysville packet line, where
Jim was to take passage for New Richmond, was at
the foot of Broadway, two squares above, but the

SCENES A T THE DEPOZ 4 1 5

boat was not yet in. Jim had the box containing
his friend conveyed on a dray to the upper wharf,
where it had to lay several hours in the hot sun-
shine. As soon as the boat ai rived and her freight
was discharged, Jim had the box put on board,
watching carefully to see that it was right side up.
At four in the afternoon the Maysville boat started.
Jim walked the 'deck impatiently, feeling much
anxiety about Joe, and watching eagerly for the
sight of his destination. The boat reached New
Richmond about sunset, and Jim paid the charges
on his box of live freight, and had it rolled off on
the wharf. Waiting till the boat had gone on her
way, Jim ascertained that Joe was still alive, and then
looked around for a dray. Seeing none, he hired a
wood wagon to transport the box to the hous«
where his father and mother lived, in the outskirts
of the village. Jim was glad to meet his father and
mother, but was so anxious. to release Joe from his
confinement that he hardly waited to speak to them.
When the box was unloaded, and the man Vvho
drove the wagon was gone, Jim took a hatchet and
knocked off the box-lid, and Joe crawled out of the
narrow quarters where he had been confined for
thirty-six hours, without food or drink, except a
crust of corn bread. He appeared to be in good
condition, and was thankful to breathe the free air
of Ohio, which he said was sweet. Jim was much
rejoiced at the success of his plan and his friend's
safe arrival.

A few abolitionists — white men — who lived near,
were called in to see the fugitive, and to advise in

41 6 REMINISCENCES,

regard to his safety. It was decided that he must
go to Canada immediately, vitt the Underground
Railroad, and that the Hne leading through Cincin-
nati was the best for him to take. One of the abo-
litionists who knew me offered to bring Jik: to my
house the next evening in his buggy. He had a
swift horse, and by starting early in the evening he
reached my house about ten o'clock at night. The
next day I obtained a ticket to Sandusky for Joe,
and put him aboard the night train. I learned after-
ward that he arrived safely in Canada.

Jjm remained a few days with his parents at New
Richmond, then came to Cincinnati, and called at
my house to inquire about his friend. He told me
the particulars, which 1 have given, of Joe's journey
in the box, and also confided to me his own inten-
tions. He said that the time for which his pass was
good had not yet expired ; he had several days to
spare, and he thought of taking a trip to Canada to
see how his friend Joe was prospering. If he liked
the country himself, he thought he would not
return. I asked him about his wife and child;
would he leave them in slavery ?

He replied: **I hope to get them to Canada be-
fore long. I have been talking with the steward on
board the Cincinnati and Louisville packet. He is
a trusty fellow, and well acquainted with my wife.
He will go to see her and tell her that I have gone
to Canada to prepare a home for us, and that she
must tr>- to join mc."

I said: **But it may be difficult for her to get
away with her child."

SCENES AT THE DEPOT,

417

Jim replied: "We have a white friend living in
Louisville who will plan for her if she will apply to
him."

Jim then went to the Louisville packet, where he
had left his little brother. He paid the fare of his
brother to Louisville, and had a private understand-
ing with the colored steward; then a short time
before the hour for the boat to start, he told his
brother that he had some business up town that he
must attend to before starting, and hastily left the
boat. His brother supposed that he would soon
return, but the boat went off without Jim.

Jim returned to my house and took the train that
evening for Sandusky. I told him that according
to the laws of Ohio he was already free ; that when
a slave was brought into this State by his master,
or came here with his master's permission, the law
would protect him if he chose to remain. But if
Jim's wife ran away and came to him here, the law
could not protect her; she would be liable to be
captured and taken back to slavery.

Jim concluded that he would try the English do-
minions, and reached Canada in safety. When his
wife received the message that he had sent her, she
resolved to follow him as soon as she could find an
opportunity to make her escape. She consulted with
Jones, of Louisville, and a few months afterward he
managed to get her safely on board the packet for
Cincinnati, and telegraphed to me to go to box 73
and take charge of his papers till called for. I knew
by the number that the state-room designated was

41 8 EEAflXISCENCES.

in the ladies' cabin, and that the fugitive was a
woman.

According to arrangements previously explained,
she, with her child, was brought to our house, and
the next night was forwarded to Canada, where she
joined her husband in safety.

SCENES AT THE DEPOT.

419

CHAPTER All.

LOUISA PICQUET, THE OCTOROON — JOHN FAIRFIELD, THE
SOUTHERN ABOLITIONIST — JOHN AND MARY — NAR-
ROW ESCAPES OF FUGITIVES.

AMONG the many interesting cases that came
under my personal notice while engaged in
efforts to aid the slave, that of Louisa Picquet, the
octoroon, is recalled to memory. Her story as told
by herself has been written by Rev. H. Mattison,
pastor of Union Chapel, New York, and published
in pamphlet form. I refer to it for the particulars
given below.

Louisa was born in Columbia, South Carolina,
where her mother was a slave in the family of John
Randolph, not the celebrated John Randolph, of
Roanoke, but probably one of the same family. As
little Louisa strongly resembled the Randolph chil-
dren, Madame R. became much dissatisfied, and
caused her and her mother to be sold. They were
bought by a Mr. Cook, of Georgia, in whose
family they remained for some time — Louisa as nurse
girl, her mother as cook. Their master had a large
cotton plantation, warehouses, stores, etc., but was
not a good manager and became deeply involved in
debt. His creditors came to take possession of his

420

BEMiyjSCEACES,

property, and he ran off to Mobile, taking seven
of his slaves, including Louisa and her mother, and
hired them out. Louisa was in the family of a Mr.
English, where she was well treated. She was at
this time a beautiful girl of fourteen, with dark eyes
and hair, rosy cheeks and brunette complexion, but
with no indication of a drop of African blood in her
veins. She attracted the attention and gained the
affection of a young man of nineteen or twenty,
white in appearance, but the slave of a man in the
city of Mobile. He was a coachman and used to
drive when his master's young sisters went out rid-
ing. They frequently called at Mr. English's, and
when the coachman rang the bell, it was answered
by Louisa. In this way the acquaintance was
made. He called to see her on Sundays, and
finally asked her to marry him. She loved him in
return, and would have been his wife, with all the
sanction that the law allowed to slaves, had not
circumstances separated them. Her lover was ac-
cused to his master of an offense of which he was
innocent, and when he . denied it he received a
severe whipping, which made him resolve to run
away. He was strengthened in this resolve by the
advice of his master's partner, an Englishman, who
abhorred the cruelties of slavery.

This gentleman said : ** 1 would go away if I were
you."

The reply was : * * I have no money, and I love a
girl here I don't want to leave."

The gentleman then inquired concerning Louisa,
and learning that she was white, said: "There will

422 REMINISCENCES.

latter declared that he would have her at any price,
and bidding fifteen hundred she was sold to him.

As Louisa was being led away, she heard some
one cr>ing and praying, and saw her mother
on her knees in the midst of the crowd, with
her hands lifted up and her eyes raised toward
heaven, streaming with tears. All the people were
looking at her, but she did not think of them, she
was asking the Lord to go with her only daughter
and protect her.

This scene made a deep^ impression on Louisa,
and she remembered it years afterward in waking
hours and in dreams. There was no time allowed
for saying good-by. The slaveholders did not recog-
nize the claims of natural affection between mother
and daughter, but led them away — one to hard
work in Texas, the other to a home in New Orleans,
where she was to live in daily violation of God's
command. Mr. Williams told Louisa of her destina-
tion, and the fate in store for her, as he took her on
the boat to New Orleans. He said he was getting
old, and when he saw her he thought he would buy
her and end his days with her. He told her that
if she behaved herself she would be treated well,
but if not, he would whip her almost to death. He
was about fifty years old, and gray-headed, and was
very jealous of Louisa lest she should find a lover
of her own race. He never allowed her to go
out ; when she begged to go to church, he accused
her of having some object in view, and said there
were too many opportunities for rascality there.

He would sometimes say: ** Go on, I guess you've

THE HORRORS OF THE SYSTEM,

423

made your arrangement; go on, I'll catch up with
you." But Louisa knew his watchful, suspecting
disposition and never ventured out.

She had four children while living with Mr. Will-
iams, two of whom died. She was known as his
housekeeper and did all the work. He never
brought guests to the house, but if he had company
took them to the hotel and entertained them. He
finally became so harsh and strict with Louisa, and
so disagreeable in his ways, that she begged him to
sell her, saying that she would rather die than live
in that manner. He became much enraged, and
said that nothing but death should separate them,
and that if she attempted to escape, he would blow
her brains out.

Louisa knew that it was wrong to live as she lived
with Mr. Williams, for in early childhood Mrs.
Cook had explained to her the meaning of the com-
mandments. She had this trouble in her soul all
the time, and said to herself: ** There's no chance
for me: I'll have to die and be lost." She some-
times spoke to Mr. Williams of these scruples, but
he only swore about it, and told her he had that to
answer for himself, and that if she was only true to
him she could get religion. But Louisa felt there
was no use trying to be religious when she was
living in sin, and not knowing what else to do,
began praying that Mr. Williams might die.

She said in relating her story: **I promised the
Lord one night, faithful in prayer, if he would just
take him out of the wa}'; I'd get religion and be
true to Him as long as I lived. If Mr. Williams

424

REMINISCENCES.

only knew that and could get up out of his grave,
he would beat me half to death. Finally he did get
sick, and was sick nearly a year. Then he began
to get good and talked kind to me. I could see
there was a change in him. He was not all the
time accusin' me of other people. Then when I
saw that he was sufferin' so, I began to get sorry
and to pray that he might get religion before he
died. It seems he did get religion, for he was so
changed.'*

A short time before his death, Mr. Williams
willed Louisa and her children free, and told her,
when he was dead, to go to the North and live a
new life. He also willed her the household goods,
all that he had in the way of property — the house
he lived in was rented. After his death Louisa
felt a new peace and happiness, for she was free.

On Sunday she went to church for the first time
in six years, and was much impressed with the
words of the preacher. Mr. Williams' brother soon
afterward told her that she must leave the house, as
he could not pay the rent, and a colored woman,
who took in washing, kindly received Louisa and
her children and cared for them till she could make
other arrangements. One day she met her late
master's brother and he asked her what she was
doing. She replied, ** Nothing." and he then said
that rightly she belonged to him, because his
brother had not paid him the money he had bor-
rowed to buy her. He asked her why she did not
go North as her master had told her to do. She
told him it was because she had no money, and

THE HORRORS OF THE SYSTEM, 425

asked him to give her some. He replied that she
had better thank God for her freedom, without
asking favors, and that his brother had got enough
from him. Louisa related this conversation to the
humble friend who had kindly taken her in, and was
advised to get away as soon as possible.

The furniture left to Louisa by her master was
sent to a second-hand furniture store and sold, and
with the money thus realized, Louisa and her chil-
dren came to Cincinnati, having little money left
after paying traveling expenses. On her arrival
here, Louisa went to the house of a colored woman
named Nelson, once a slave in Georgia, whom she
had known in former years. She found friends
among the colored and white people, and was
respected by all. Two or three years after coming
to Cincinnati, Louisa married Henry Picquet, a
mulatto, formerly a slave and the son of a French-
man in Georgia. He had been married once before,
but his wife was sold away from him. Louisa had
thought of her mother during the long years of sep-
aration, and in that time had heard from her once.
She now endeavored to learn in what part of Texas
her mother was, and to ascertain if she could be
purchased. She had letters written to different
parts of Texas, making inquiries, and succeeded in
learning the address of her mother's master. Nego-
tiations were then opened, relative to her mother's
purchase, and the master agreed to dispose of her
for one thousand dollars. Louisa's next concern
was, ** How shall I raise this money?" She
thought of selling everything she had, but her

426 REMINISCENCES.

entire worldly possessions would amount to but a
small sum. She then talked with friends on the
ipatter, and was advised by them to go out and
solicit money for the purpose. She was at first
reluctant to do this, as she had a family to care for,
had never traveled, except from New Orleans to
Cincinnati, and feared that her efforts would be
vain, as there were so many abroad on similar
errands, but she finally resolved to make the
attempt.

I gave her a recommendation. Joseph Emery,
known for many years as city missionary, did like-
wise, and she received several encouraging notices
from the press. With these pasted in her book she
started out, first in Cincinnati, where she obtained
subscriptions to the amount of about three hundred
dollars, and then made her way to other cities and
towns in the State of Ohio, where she received
various sums. At Cleveland she was advised to
visit Buffalo, where the General Conference of the
Methodist Episcopal Church was in session. She
received letters of introduction to a minister settled
at Buffalo, and to another who was there temporarily,
as delegate to the Conference, and went to that city.
She presented her claims, but received so little
encouragement that she decided to go on to New
York, having letters to Henry Ward Beecher and
others in that city. She did so, and met with
excellent encouragement, her collections amounting
to two hundred and twenty-three dollars, in a few
days. One day in New York she was passing along
a street near the Park, when she saw a man ou

SCENES AT THE DEPOT.

427

top of an omnibus who looked at her earnestly and
seemed to know her. She recognized him instantly
as the young man who, years before in Mobile, had
asked her to marry him and run away from slavery.
He got down from the omnibus, and came and
spoke to her. After some conversation, in which
she explained how she happened to be there, he
told her that he had been in New York ever since
he ran away, that he had married a white woman,
and that no one suspected him of having a drop of
African blood in his veins. He afterward brought
his three children to the Park for Louisa to see, and
she says they were very pretty, and prettily dressed
— the two little girls, white and fair, the little boy a
brunette. '* Ah," said she, laughing, ''that one has
the stain on it." She promised to keep the matter
secret — the early history of her friend — lest it might
break up a family, or cause a white citizen of New
York to be remanded back to slavery.

Louisa returned to Buffalo, where for the first
time in her travels she was treated with doubt and
suspicion. Calling on a minister, who was a dele-
gate to the Conference, from Baltimore, and stating
her business, she was received coldly. After look-
ing over her papers and listening to her story, he
expressed his opinion that she was not a colored
woman, and that the money collected was not for
the specified purpose; consequently, that her claims
were false and she was an impostor.

Another gentleman in Buffalo, learning of this
incident, kindly undertook to aid Louisa and sub-
stantiate her claims, for the benefit of those dis-

428 REMISISCENCES,

posed to doubt her. He telegraphed to the banking
firm of Evans and Company, of Cincinnati, to whom
Louisa referred him, making inquiries in regard to
her, and received by mail a full indorsement of her
and her representations.

About this time Louisa received news that the
master of her mother had decreased the price he
demanded from one thousand dollars to nine hun-
dred, which was, of course, cheering news, as it
obviated much labor and anxiety. Louisa returned
to Cincinnati, and, after some discouragement, suc-
ceeded in completing her collections and making up
the sum required. The money was sent to the mas-
ter in Texas, per Adams Express Company, and
Louisa's mother was brought to Cincinnati by the
same Company at an expense of eighty dollars.
To obtain tills sum Louisa had to sell some of her
household goods. The old woman, who had toiled
all her life in bondage, was free at last — thanks to
the efforts of her daughter and the kindness of
Northern friends.

There was a joyful reunion of mother and daughter
after the long separation of years. They parted in
wretchedness, at a slave auction in Mobile, with the
hopelessness of a life of bondage before them ; they
met on a free soil, rejoicing in the possession of
freedom, and full of thanksgiving and joy too great
for utterance.

JOHN FAIRFIELD, THE SOUTHERN ABOLITIOXIST.

It is seldom that one hears of a person who has
been brought up in the midst of slavery, surrounded

JOHN FAIRFIELD'S WORK. 429

by its influences from his earliest recollection, being
a hater of the ** peculiar institution," but there arc
several such cases on record. Among them is that
of John Fairfield, who has already figured in these
pages in connection with a party of twenty-eight
fugitives, whom he conducted to Cincinnati from
their homes in Kentucky.

His early home was in Virginia, east of the moun-
tains, where he imbibed anti-slavery sentiments —
from what source it is unknown, certainly not from
his relatives, who were all slaveholders. When
quite a young man, he decided to make a visit to
the State of Ohio, and seek his fortunes in a free
State. Thinking that it would be a good opportu-
nity to put his anti-slavery principles into practice,
he planned to take with him one of his uncle's
slaves, a bright, intelligent young man, about his
own age, to whom he was much attached. John
and this young colored man had played together
when boys, and had been brought up together.
They had often discussed plans by which Bill, the
slave, could make his escape to Canada, but no
attempt had been made to carry them out, until
young Fairfield determined to visit Ohio. The
arrangement was then made for Bill to take one of
•his master's horses, and make his escape the night
before Fairfield started, and wait for him at a ren-
dezvous appointed. This plan was carried out, and
Bill traveled as Fairfield's servant until they reached
Ohio. Not feeling safe in that State, he went on to
Canada, accompanied by Fairfield, who spent sev-
eral weeks there looking at the country. Bill, in

^jO REMINISCENCES.

the meanwhile, found a good situation, and when
Fairfield left him he was rejoicing in his newly
achieved liberty and prosperity.

When Fairfield told me the story, some years
afterward, I asked him if he did not feel guilty of
encouraging horse-stealing, as well as negro-stealing.
I knew that death was the penalty for each of these
crimes, according to the laws of Virginia and North
Carolina.

The reply was: ** No ! I knew that Bill had earned
several horses for his master, and he took onlv one.
Bill had been a faithful fellow, and worked hard for
many years, and that horse was all the pay he got.
As to negro-stealing, I would steal all the slaves in
Virginia if I could.*'

After spending several months in Ohio, John
Fairfield returned to Virginia, but did not remain
long. His uncle suspected him of having helped
his able-bodied and valuable servant to escape, and
having obtained evidence from some source — proba-
bly from Ohio — he set about procuring a writ and
having his nephew arrested.

Fairfield learned of his uncle's intention, and
concluded to leave <^hat part of the country. Ac-
tuated by a feeling of spite, or some other motive,
he resolved to take other slaves, as he had taken
Bill, and succeeded in getting away with .several,
.some of whom belonged to his uncle. They trav-
eled during the night and hid themselves during the
day. Sometimes when they were safely secreted
for the dav, Fairfield went forward a few miles and
purchased provisions, under the pretense of buying

JOHN FAIRFIELD'S WORK, 431

for movers in camp ; then returned and supplied the
party of fugitives. They finally arrived safely in
Canada, and Fairfield, liking the country, concluded
to make his heme there. Bill was now married and
comfortably settled.

Fairfield's success in conducting the slaves from
Virginia to Canada was soon known to many of the
fugitives settled in that country, and having confi-
dence in him, they importuned him to bring away
from slavery the husbands, wives, children, or other
relatives which they had left behind them in various
parts of the South. Some of them had accumulated
.small sums of money, and offered to pay him if he
would undertake the mission.

Fairfield was a young man without family, and
was fond of adventure and excitement. He wanted
employment, and agreed to take the money offered
by the fugitives and engage in the undertaking. He
obtained the names of masters and slaves, and an
exact knowledge of the different localities to be
visited, together with other information that might
be of use to him ; then acted as his shrewd judg-
ment dictated, under different circumstances. He
would go South, into the neighborhood where the
slaves were whom he intended to conduct away,
and, under an assumed name and a false pretense of
business, engage boarding, perhaps at the house of
the master whose stock of valuable property he
intended to decrease. He would proclaim himself
to be a Virginian, and profess to be strongly pro-
slavery in his sentiments, thus lulling the suspicions
of the slaveholders while he established a secret

^^2 REMINISCENCES.

understanding with the slaves — gaining their confi-
dence and making arrangements for their escape.
Then he would suddenly disappear from the neigh-
borhood, and several slaves would be missing at the
same time.

Fairfield succeeded well in his daring adventures,
and in many instances brought members of fami-
lies together in Canada, who had been separated
for several years. Husbands and wives were again
united, and there were joyful meetings between
parents and children. The fugitives settled in Can-
ada had unbounded confidence in Fairfield, and
were constantly begging him to bring away their
friends and relatives from slavery. He continued
this unique business for more than twelve years,
and during that time aided, it is said, several thou-
sand slaves to escape from bondage and reach
Canada. He was a wicked man, daring and reckless
in his actions, yet faithful to the trust reposed in
him, and benevolent to the poor. He seemed to
have no fear for his personal safety — was always
ready to risk his life and liberty in order to rescue
the slaves from bondage.

He was an inveterate hater of slavery, and this
feeling supplied a motive for the actions of his whole
life. He believed that every slave was justly entitled
to freedom, and that if any person came between him
and liberty, the slave had a perfect right to shoot
him down. He always went heavily armed himself,
and did not scruple to use his weapons whenever he
thought the occasion required their use. He resorted
to many stratagems to effect his object in the South

JOHN FAIRFIELD'S WORK.

433

and brought away numbers of slaves from nearly
every slave State in the Union. He often stopped
at Cincinnati, on his way South, and generally made
his home among the colored people. He frequently
called to see me, and told me of his daring exploits
and plans of operation, to all of which I objected.
I could have no sympathy with his mode of action,
and at various times urged him to cease his opera-
tions in the South and return to his home in Canada
and remain there. I would have nothing to do with
aiding him to carry out his plans, for I could not
indorse the principles he acted upon.

At the time I did not believe half the stories
that he told me ; but afterward, learning from other
sources of the many instances of his wonderful
success, and knowing several of them from personal
observation, and hearing stories from fugitives of
their deliverance by his aid, I began to think that
most of his stories might be true.

Fairfield was always ready to take money for his
services from the slaves if they had it to offer, but
if they did not he helped them all the same. Some-
times the slaves in the South had accumulated a
little money, which they gave gladly to any one who
would conduct them out of the house of bondage;
and sometimes the fugitives in the North gave their
little hoard to Fairfield, and begged- him to rescue
their relatives from slavery. Though always willing
to take money for his services, he was equally ready
to spend it in the same cause, and, if necessary,
would part with his last dollar to effect his object.
Fairfield had various methods of carrying out his

434

REMINISCENCES.

plans When he had obtained a list of the names
of the slaves he wished to bring away, together with
the names of their masters, and an exact knowledge
of the different localities he was to visit in various
parts of the South, he went to work without any
hesitation, relying on his intimate knowledge of
Southern customs to bear him safely through his
perilous mission, and on his ingenuity and daring
to extricate him from any difficulty he might fall
into. Sometimes he engaged in some trading busi-
ness and remained in the South six or twelve
months at a time, familiarizing himself with differ-
ent localities, making the acquaintance of the
slaves and maturing his plans. At other times he
would enter a neighborhood where he was an entire
stranger, represent himself as a slave-dealer, and
gain a knowledge of the slaves he wished to take
away. He would make known his plans to them
secretly, and some night they would leave their
homes, and intrust themselves to his guidance.
Fairfield would conduct them safely across the Ohio
River, and after placing tlTem on some branch of
the Underground Railroad, and seeing them started
toward Canada, he would return to the South,
assume another name, and enter another neighbor-
hood, to enact the same over again.

At one time he took a company of .slaves fror
the northwestern part of Kentucky, and to elud
pursuit made directly toward Nashville, Tennesse
The company consisted of able-bodied men, w/
were all well armed. They took horses belongi
to their masters, and rode as far as they could ^

JOHN FAIRFIELD'S WORK. 435

first night, then turned the horses loose and hid
themselves during the day. The next night they
took other horses, and so on, night after night,
until they reached the Ohio River, near Maysville,
Kentucky. Fairfield managed to get the men over
the river and started safely on their way to Canada,
then he returned to the South to continue his
adventurous business.

At one time when he went South he had a few
horses to sell, and took with him two able-bodied,
free, colored men, whom he treated as his slaves,
ordering them about in a peremptory manner.
These men were shrewd and intelligent, and under-
stood his plans. They ingratiated themselves with
the slaves Fairfield had come to rescue, gained their
confidence and ran off with them one dark night,
steering their course to Canada by the north star.
At other times Fairfield assumed to be returning
from Louisiana, where he had been with a drove of
slaves. He had with him, on such occasions, a body
servant whom he professed to treat with great
harshness, but who vMs really his confidant and
accomplice. Through this servant he gained access
to the slaves he wished to rescue.

Fairfield was several times betrayed and arrested,
in the South, and put in prison, but being a Free
Mason, high in the Order, he managed to get out
of prison without being tried. He broke jail once
or twice and escaped. He often had to endure
privation and hardship, but was ready to undergo
any suffering, for the sake of effecting his object.
He sometimes divided his clothing with a destitute

436

REMINISCENCES,

fugitive, and was willing to make any sacrifice of
personal comfort. We often heard of his arrival in
Canada with large companies of fugitives, whom he
had conducted thither by some line of the Under-
ground Railroad.

Fairfield was once betrayed and captured in
Bracken County, Kentucky, and put in prison,
where he remained through a winter of unusual
severity. Before the time for his trial came, he
escaped from jail by the aid of some of his friends,
and crossed the Ohio River to Ripley. At the
house of a noted abolitionist of that place, Fairfield
lay sick for two weeks, having taken a deep cold
while confined in jail. When he became well
enough to travel he came to Cincinnati, and stopped
at the house of a colored friend. I went to see him
and had a long talk with him. I again advised him,
to quit his hazardous work, in which he constantly
risked his life and liberty. I told him I had no
sympathy with his mode of operation, and urged
him strongly to go home to Canada, and never cross
Mason and Dixon's line again. He did not accept
my advice, but swore that he would liberate a slave
for every day that he had lain in prison. Although
a man of strong constitution he appeared to be
much broken in health by the hardships he had
undergone. After resting a few weeks and recruit-
ing his strength, he disappeared from the city, and
no one knew where he had gone.

The next news we had concerning him was that
he had crossed the Ohio River, near Lawrenceburg,
with a party of twenty-eight fugitives, from Ken-

JOHN FAIRFIELiyS WORK. 437

tucky. The story of this party I have previously
related. After that, we heard nothing more of
Fairfield for some time. The following autumn I
received a letter from George D. Baptist, of Detroit,
stating that Fairfield had just arrived there with a
company of thirty fugitives from the State of Mis-
souri.

Free colored people in the Northern States who
had relatives in slavery heard of Fairfield's success-
ful efforts, and applied to him to bring their friends
out of bondage, sometimes offering him several
hundred dollars. At one time I was told of one of
Fairfield's adventures up the Kanawha River, near
Charleston, Virginia. Several colored people in
Ohio, who had relatives in slavery at and near the
salt works, importuned Fairfield to bring them
away, and he at last yielded to their frequent solic-
itations, and promised to make the attempt. He
knew that it would require some time to accomplish
his object, as there were several slaves to be res-
cued, and he laid his plans accordingly. He chose
the early spring for the time of his action, as the
water was then flush in the Kanawha. Taking two
free colored men with him, whom he claimed as his
slaves, he went to the salt works on the Kanawha,
and professing to be from Louisville, Kentucky,
said that he had come to engage in the salt trade.
He contracted for the building of two boats and for
sail with which to load them when finished. These
arrangements afforded time for his colored men to
become acquainted with the slaves he wished to

438 REMINISCENCES.

rescue, p^ain their confidence, and mature the plans
for their escape.

Some of the slaves were good boatmen, as also
were Fairfield's men, and it was planned that when
the first boat was finished, one of the slaves and one
of Fairfield's men should get into it on Saturday
night, and float down the river a short distance to a
point agreed upon, and take in a company of slaves,
both men and women. They were then to take
advantage of the high water and swift current of the
Kanawha, and make all possible speed, to the Ohio
River. This plan was carried out successfully.
Search was made in the neighborhood on Sabbath
for some of the missing slaves, but no clue was
gained. The loss of the boat was not discovered
till Monday morning.

When Fairfield learned that one of his boats and
one of his men were gone, he affected to be much
enraged, and accused his other man of having some
knowledge of the affair, and threatened him with
severe punishment. The man denied having any
part in the plot, but Fairfield professed to doubt
him, and said that he should watch him closely.

When the owners of the missing slaves learned
that the boat was gone, they at once surmised that
their servants had made their escape by that means,
and as there was no steamboat going down the river
that day, they sent horsemen in pursuit, hoping thai
the boat might be intercepted at the mouth of the
river. But when the pursuers reached that point,
they found the new boat tied on the opposite side

JOHN FAIRFIELD'S WORK, ^^g

of the river; the fugitives were gone, and no clue
to their course could be obtained.

Fairfield remained at the salt works to await the
completion of his other boat, and to watch his
other negro servant, of whom he professed to be
\ ery distrustful. In a few days the boat was com-
pleted, and the next Saturday night it disappeared,
together with Fairfield's negro man and ten or
twelve slaves. Fairfield was now ruined ! Both his
boats and both his slaves were gone ; and the loss
of his property made him almost frantic. He
started in hot pursuit, accompanied by several men,
determined to capture the fugitives at any hazard.
When they reached the Ohio River they found the
boat tied to the bank on the Ohio side, but the
fugitives were gone.

The pursuers ferried across the river, and, ac-
cording to Fairfield's suggestion, divided company
and took different routes, with the understanding
that they were all to meet at a point designated.
But Fairfield never met them, and was never seen
at the salt works afterward. He well knew, how-
ever, where to meet the fugitives; all that had been
previously arranged. After the search was over,
he conducted them safely to Canada, via the Un-
derground Railroad.

Soon afterward Fairfield performed another dar-
ing feat, east of the mountains. There were a
number of fugitives in Canada, nearly white, who
had come from Maryland, the District of Columbia
and Virginia, and who had a number of relatives of
the same complexion in the localities they had left.

440

REMINISCENCES,

There were also some free people living in Detroit,

who had mulatto and quadroon relatives in the local-
ities mentioned. Fairfield had often been solicited
by these fugitives and free people to bring their
friends out of slavery, and he finally agreed to make
the attempt if a sum of money was raised for him,
sufficient to justify it. The amount was made up
and paid to him, and he went East on his hazardous
mission.

He spent some time making the acquaintance
of these mulattoes and quadroons in the different
neighborhoods, and maturing his plans for their
escape. Most of them were bright and intelligent,
and some of them had saved enough money to pay
their passage to Canada. After gaining their confi-
dence and making them acquainted with his plans,
Fairfield went to Philadelphia and bought wigs and
powder. These cost him eighty dollars — I after-
ward saw the bill. His first experiment with these
articles of disguise was made at Baltimore. Having
secretly collected the mulatto slaves of that city
and vicinity, whom he had arranged to conduct to
the North, he applied the powder and put on the
wigs. The effect was satisfactory ; the slaves looked
like white people.

Fairfield bought tickets for them and they took
the evening train to Harrisburg, where he had made
arrangements for another person to meet them,
who would accompany them to Cleveland and put
them aboard the boat for Detroit.

Fairfield, having seen this party safely on the
ivay, returned immediately to Washington City for

JOHN FAIRFIELD'S WORK.

441

another company, who, by the aid of wigs and
powder, passed for white people. He put these
fugitives on the train, and accompanied them to
Pittsburg. I received a letter from a friend in Cleve-
land, informing me of the arrival of both these par-
ties, through Fairfield's agency, which was the first
intelligence I had of his operations in the East.
From Pittsburg, Fairfield returned to Philadelphia,
and finding that he had not enough money to com-
plete his work, he applied to the abolition society of
that city for assistance, but, as he was a stranger to
them, they hesitated about granting his request.

He told them that Levi Coffin, of Cincinnati,
knew him well. George W. Taylor telegraphed
to me at once — "John Fairfield wants money; shall
we give it to him?"

I replied: "If John Fairfield needs money, give
it to him."

He was then furnished with the amount he called
for, and made his way at once into Virginia, near
Harper's Ferry, for the third company of slaves.
One of this company was too dark to be transformed
into a white person by means of a wig and powder,
and Fairfield was compelled to leave him behind.
He regretted to do so, but feared that his appear-
ance would betray the others. Fairfield got the
rest of the party to the railroad and took the
express train for Pittsburg, but they were soon
missed and the course they had taken was discov-
ered. Their pursuers engaged an engine and one
car, and followed the express train at full speed,
hoping to overtake it and capture them before they

442

REMINISCENCES,

reached Pittsburg. The engine overtook the train
just as it was entering Pittsburg, but before the
cars were fairly still, Fairfield and the fugitives
sprang out and scattered, and ran in various direc-
tions through the city. The pursuers spang out and
gave chase, but did not succeed in capturing any
of them. The fugitives soon found safe quarters
among the abolitionists, and lay still for several
days. Great eflbrts were made to find them, but
they were unsuccessful, and the pursuers finally
gave up the hunt and returned home. I received a
letter from a friend in Pittsburg giving me these par-
ticulars, and shortly after learned that the fugitives
had arrived in Cleveland. I also heard of their safe
arrival in Detroit. A friend in that city wrote me
that Fairfield had just reached there with the best
looking company of fugitives that had ever passed
through Detroit.

Thus, in numerous ways, John Fairfield was
instrumental in rescuing hundreds of slaves from
bondage, and in bringing together, in Canada, hus-
bands and wives, parents and children, who had
long been separated. He seemed to glory in the
work, much as a military commander would in a
victory over his enemies.

Although I could not sympathize with or encour-
age Fairfield's mode of operation, yet I often took
in the fugitives whom he aided to escape. Some he
brought himself; others traveled by his special
directions, secreting themselves on steamboats or
making the journey on foot. They generally
reached our house in a state of destitution and dis-

JOHN FAIRFIELUS WORK.

443

tress, and we were always ready to succor them.
In one instance John Fairfield came from a great
distance, bringing a company of fugitives. They
did encounter many dangers and hardships on the
way, and had suffered much from hunger and
exposure. Fairfield's money had all been expended,
and his clothes were ragged and dirty ; he looked
like a fugitive himself. I took him and his com-
pany in, and after the fugitives rested and were
fitted for the journey they were forwarded to
Canada, via the Underground Railroad.

Fairfield remained in the city to recruit his
strength and renew his clothing; he had left some
money and clothing here when on his way South.
The company referred to consisted of eight or ten
brave, intelligent-looking slaves, who had deter-
mined to reach a land of liberty under the leader-
ship of John Fairfield, or die in the attempt. Fair-
field had spent some time in their neighborhood,
buying eggs and chickens and shipping them to
some point on the river. This was his ostensible
business : his real errand was to get acquainted with
the slaves. He had private interviews with them
at night, in some secluded spot in the woods, and
made all the plans and arrangements for the journey.
Each one of the party he furnished with a revolver
and plenty of ammunition.

One of the most intelligent of the fugitives said
to me : *'I never saw such a man as Fairfield. He
told us he would take us out of slavery or die in
the attempt, if we would do our part, which we
promised to do. We all agreed to fight till we

^^^ REMINISCENCES.

died, rather than be captured. Fairfield said he
wanted no cowards in the company; if we were
attacked and one of us showed cowardice or started
to run, he would shoot him down."

They were attacked several times by patrolers,
and fired upon, but always succeeded in driving the
enemy and making their escape, keeping near their
leader and obeying his commands. Fairfield said
that they had a desperate battle one moonlight
night with a company of armed men. They had
been discovered by the patrolers, who had gathered
a party of men and waylaid them at a bridge.

Fairfield said : * * They were lying in ambush at
each end of the bridge, and when we got fairly on
the bridge they fired at us from each end. They
thought, no doubt, that this sudden attack would
intimidate us and that we would surrender, but in
this they were mistaken. I ordered my men to
charge to the front, and they did charge. We fired
as we went, and the men in ambush scattered and
ran like scared sheep."

** Was anybody hurt ? " I asked.

In reply Fairfield showed me several bullet holes
in his clothes, a slight flesh wound on one arm, and
a slight flesh wound on the leg of one of the fugi-
tives.

** You see,'* he said, '* we were in close quarters,
but my men were plucky. We shot to kill, and we
made the devils run."

I reproved him for trying to kill any one. I told
him it was better to suffer wrong than to do wrong,
and that we should love our enemies.

JOHN FAlRFlELUa WORK. 445

** Love the devil ! " he exclaimed. ** Slaveholders
are all devils, and it is no harm to kill the devil. I
do not intend to hurt people if they keep out of the
way, but if they step in between me and liberty,
they must take the consequences. When I under-
take to conduct slaves out of bondage I feel that it
is my duty to defend them, even to the last drop
of my blood."

I saw that it was useless to preach peace principles
to John Fairfield. He would fight for the fugitives
as long as his life lasted. When Fairfield left Cin-
cinnati I knew not where he went, and did not hear
any news of him until some time the next year. I
then learned that in the interval he had rescued slaves
from Louisiana, Alabama, Mississippi and Georgia,
who had been forwarded to Canada on the lines of
the Underground Railroad leading through Illinois
and Michigan, and that he had just arrived in Canada
himself with a company of fugitives from the State
of Missouri. Not long afterward Fairfield arrived
in Cincinnati, bringing with him a party of slaves
from Kentucky. He forwarded them on to Canada,
and remained in the city to have the benefit of
medical treatment. He had a hard cough, con-
tracted, no doubt, by exposure and hardship, and
his general health seemed shattered. I again urged
him to quit the perilous business he had been
^^'^gag^^ in, and he seemed inclined to accept my
advice. He bought a few goods and opened a small
store in Randolph County, Indiana, in the midst of a
large settlement of free colored people, where he
was well knoVn.

446 REMINISCENCES,

He remained here for a year or two, then closed
up his business and disappeared. It was thought
in that neighborhood that he had gone to Canada,
but we could never learn that he had been seen in
Canada afterward. We supposed that when he left
Indiana he went South. This was a short time
before the Rebellion in 1861, and from that time to
the present no news of Fairfield has been received
by any of his friends. The conjecture is that he
was killed in Tennessee, near the iron-works, on the
Cumberland River. It was reported through the
papers that there was an insurrectionary movement
among the slaves in that locality ; that a number of
them had obtained arms ; and an alarm started that
the negroes were about to rise. This was sufficient
to create great excitement in the whole neighbor-
hood, and to bring out a little army of armed
men to hunt ,the suspected negroes. Several
negroes who attempted to defend themselves were
shot ; others were captured and hung by the infu-
riated mob. It was reported that a white man,
supposed to be the instigator of the movement and
the leader of the negroes, was found among them,
and that he was killed. He was a stranger in that
neighborhood, and his name was not known. I have
ilways supposed that this man was John Fairfield,
and that in this way his strange career was ended by
a violent death. With all his faults and misguided
impulses, and wicked ways, he was a brave man ; he
never betrayed a trust that was reposed in him, and
he was a true friend to the oppressed and suffering
slave.

SCENES AT THE DEPOT

447

JOHN AND MARY.

There lived near Lexington, Kentucky, a slave man
of unusual intelligence, whose master was in the
habit of buying horses and mules and taking them
to Georgia and South Carolina to sell. The slave,
whom I will call John, was such a trusty servant
that he was always taken on the expeditions to the
South to aid his master, and was of great service on
such occasions. His master treated him kindly, and
allowed him some privileges of which slaves are
usually deprived.

John had a wife, an intelligent negro woman,
named Mary, who belonged to a man in the vicinity,
and hired her time of her master, as was sometimes
the custom. By this arrangement John and Mary
lived together in a snug little house on his master's
premises, which they had comfortably furnished by
means of their joint industry. They had everything
they could hope for in their station of life, and were
50 happily situated that it seemed they were not to
know the darker side of slavery. But their happi-
ness was rudely disturbed by the intelligence that
John's master had become involved in debt and had
concluded to sell him on the next trip South. This
news reached John shortly before the time fixed to
start, and he lost no time in communicating it to
Mary, and consulting with her as to what should be
done. They decided that they would make the
attempt to escape. John had some free colored
friends in Cincinnati — one of whom was on a visit to
that neighborhood at that time, and to him he com-

448 REMINISCENCES.

municated his resolve, requesting him when he
returned to Cincinnati to send some one who would
conduct them out of Kentucky and across the Ohio
River. He had saved some money, and authorized
his friend to offer fifty dollars to some suitable per-
son who would thus run the risk of aiding slaves^to
escape. The services of a young white man, who
was no stranger to the business, were secured, and
in due time he came into the neighborhood and
made himself known to them. Mary had been sick ;
she was just then recovering, and hardly able to
travel ; but not willing to jeopardize her husband's
safety by waiting any longer, she resolved to start
with them immediately.

They left their house in order; bed neatly made,
and everything arranged that no one might suspect
their real intentions in case their place was visited
shortly after their departure.

They traveled on foot all that night, and hid them-
selves during the following day in the thick bushes,
subsisting on the scanty food they carried with them.
They proceeded thus for nearly a week, traveling at
night and hiding as best they could in the daytime.
Their progress was slow, on account of Mary, who
was hardly able to walk. She became very weak,
and the last night she was so exhausted that hei
husband and the guide had to walk one on each side
of her, and support her. They reached the Ohio
River before daylight at a point where the guide had
arranged for a skiff to be placed, and in this they
crossed the river. Reaching Cincinnati, they went
to the house of their colored friends. I was sent

SCENES AT THE DEPOT.

449

for, and when I visited them I found Mary very ill
and weak, and unable to take any food. In the
evening I visited her again, and finding her no better,
I went to the office of Dr. W. H. Mussey, that noble
philanthropist, who was always ready to minister to
the needs of the poor fugitives. The doctor was out,
and I left a note requesting him to call at my resi-
dence as soon as he returned, at any hour of the
night, adding, in a postscript, ** None of my family
are ill." I knew that the doctor would understand,
for he had been called upon in such instances before.

Dr. Mussey came at midnight, and together we
went to see Mary, who seemed to be sinking fast.
The doctor remained with her some time that night,
and attended on her closely for more than a week,
doing everything in his power to relieve her. For
several days her recovery seemed doubtful, but we
at last had the satisfaction of seeing her improve.
At the end of two weeks she was so far restored as
to be able to be removed, and for greater safety was
brought to our house, where she received every care
and attention, and remained until strong enough to
travel.

I was going to Newport, Indiana, on business,
about that time, and concluded to travel in my
carriage that I might take John and Mary with me.
I said to my wife, **It is fa^ihionable to have a
colored driver, and nobody's business who sits on
the seat with me behind," so when the carriage was
brought around, John took the lines and I occupied
the back seat by the side of Mary, who was well
dressed and heavily vailed.

^50 REMINISCENCES.

We started about three o'clock in the afternoon,
and drove across Mt. Auburn, through Clifton, and
along the Winton road to Hamilton. We arrived
that night at a Friends* settlement at West Elkton,
and stopped at the house of 'Squire Stubbs, a well-
known abolitionist.

The next day being Sabbath, I attended Friends'
meeting, and remained till about three in the after-
noon. At that hour we pursued our journey by
way of Camden, taking a country road leading up
Paint Creek, and coming into the Darrtown and
Richmond pike, some distance below Boston, be-
fore dark. The moon afforded us light, and we
traveled on very pleasantly until about ten o'clock,
when we reached the house of my friend Daniel
Clark, who lived on Elkhorn, about five miles below
Richmond. We halted in the road opposite the
house, which stood a few rods back from the high-
way, and I hallooed to arouse the inmates. Clark's
son-in-law, T. Hill, came out into the yard, and,
not recognizing me, asked what was wanted.

I replied: '*I want to know if you take Under-
ground Railroad passengers here."

Daniel Clark had opened the window of his room,
which fronted the road, and recognizing my voice,
he cried out: '* Yes! drive in."

T. Hill opened the large gate, and I drove into
the yard. By this time Daniel had dressed and
came out to meet us ; we had a hearty welcome.
After some conversation and refreshment, we all
retired to rest, but before we got to sleep we heard
a knocking at the door. T. Hill rose and opened

SCENES AT THE DEPOT. 45 1

the door. I looked out of the window and saw a
wagon standing in the road, and heard the man at
the door ask for quarters for a company of fugitives.
As they had just received one company, Hill
tho'ight that they could not accommodate more,
and accompanied this party to the next house, a
few hundred yards ahead, where James Hay worth
then lived, in Daniel Clark's former residence. The
fugitives were comfortably quarteied here for the
night.

James Hayworth, having learned that I was at the
other house with a company of fugitives, came over
early the next morning to see me and inquire what
must be done with those at his house. He said
there were four in the company, three men and one
woman. I told him that I knew all about them. I
had forwarded them from my house in Cincinnati,
on this route, a night or two before I left home. I
supposed that they were ahead of me, but as I had
traveled part of the time in daytime, and they only
at night, I had got ahead of them. I said: '*They
left West Elkton night before last and were con-
veyed to Friend Brown's, on Paint Creek; he ac-
companied them last night to thy house. They are
valuable property, and good care must be taken of
them. I want thee to get thy carriage ready, and
take them on to Newport with me."

"Not in daytime !" he exclaimed.

"Yes," I said, "in daytime; I expect to start as
soon as breakfast is over, and I want thee to be
ready with thy carriage to go with us."

"But there are four in the company," he replied,

452

REMINISCENCES.

**and that will make an overload in my carriage."
"I will take one of them in my carriage," I said,
"which will make four in each."

After breakfast I drove on to James Hayworth's,
and found them all ready. I took one of the com-
pany in my carriage and led the way. When we
arrived at Richmond, James seemed reluctant to
pass through the main part, so we bore to the right
and passed through the eastern edge of the town,
by way of Moffat's mill, on the east fork of White-
water. The mill then belonged to William Ken-
worthy and Benjamin Fulghum, of Richmond, and
as we drew near it, I discovered them among a
company of men who were raising an addition to
the building, and noticed that their attention was
attracted to us. When we got opposite the com-
pany, perhaps fifty yards distant, I sang out at the
top of my voice the words of an old anti slavery
song,

** Ho ! the car Emancipation,
Moves majestic through the nation."

The men suspended work to cheer us in reply.
They recognized the President of the Underground
Railroad at work, and came out in a body to greet
us and wish us God-speed. They were mostly
Friends, and well known to me ; we felt no fear.
Pursuing our journey, we turned into the Newport
pike and soon came to a toll-gate, with the keeper
of which I was acquainted. I said to him: **I sup-
pose you allow the Underground Railroad cars to
pass free on this road."

SCENES Ji T THE DEPOT. 45 3

'*Yes/' he replied; so we passed on without
paying.

Just before reaching Newport we came to another
toll-gate, kept by an old man named Hockett, lately
from North Carolina. He had lately been placed
here as gate-keeper, and I was not acquainted with
him. I halted, and said to him: *'I suppose you
charge nothing for the cars of the Underground
Railroad that pass through this gate."

** Underground Railroad cars?" he drawled,
sleepily.

"Yes," I said; "didn't they give thee orders
when they placed thee here to let such cars pass
free?"

" No," he replied ; " they said nothing about it."

"Well, that's strange. Most of the stockholders
of this road are large stockholders in the Under-
ground Railroad, and we never charge anything on
that road. I am well acquainted with the president
of this road, and I know that he holds stock in our
road. I expect to see him to-day, and several of the
directors, and I shall report thee for charging Un-
derground Railroad passengers toll."

The gate-keeper seemed much confused, and said
that he knew nothing about the Underground Rail-
road.

"Why!" I exclaimed, with apparent surprise,
"what part of the world art thou from?"

"North Carliny," he drawled.

"I thought thee was from some dark corner of
the globe," I said, and handed him the money,
which I had been holding in my fingers during the

454

REMINISCENCES,

conversation, and which was but a trifle. I then
started on, but had not gone more than a few rods,
when the gate-keeper called to me, and asked: **Is
your name Levi Coffin?"

'*Yes," I replied, **that is my name," but did
not check my team, lest he should follow me and
give back the money. I had had my sport with
him, which was all I wanted. I think he always
knew me afterward. That day, in Newport, I met
David VVillcuts, who was the president of the road,
and reported the gate-keeper. We had a hearty
laugh over my interview with him.

I stopped with John and Mary at Daniel HufFs,
in Newport, and James Hayworth went on to Will-
iam Hough's, a short distance further, across the
creek. The latter place was a noted depot of the
Underground Railroad. The company of four fugi-
tives were considered to be in the greatest danger
of pursuit, so they were sent on toward Canada that
night by the Greenville route.

John and Mary were kept at Daniel Huff's until
next day, to wait for the Richmond and Winchester
stage, which generally changed horses at Huff's.
I had decided to forward them to Winchester by the
stage if there were no suspicious passengers aboard.
I made out a regular bill of lading to a mercantile
firm in Winchester, with the members of which I
was well acquainted, and whom I knew to be stanch
abolitionists. The bill read thus:

''Shipped in good order and well conditioned,
two baboons,* of fine stock and very valuable.

*In reference to the views of some slaveholders, who thought
that negroes had no souls but were a species of baboon.

SCENES AT THE DEPOT.

455

Please receive and forward the same to George D.
Baptist, Detroit, Michigan, by way of Camden and
Fort Wayne ; I consider that to be the safest route.
Take special care of them; do not allow them to
run at large. They are quite tame, but bloodhounds
sometimes get on their track, and might injure
them. They are male and female; the female is not
very stout at present, having just recovered from a
spell of sickness. Please give them a warm dry
place in which to lie, while at Winchester, and do
not let them be too much exposed to idle spec-
tators, as it might annoy them. They will be of
little trouble about feeding, as they eat the same
kind of food that human beings do, and seem to
thrive on it. Put them in charge of a good con-
ductor, who will take special care of them. Your
prompt attention to this matter will much oblige
your friend, Levi Coffin."

I sealed this and gave it to John, and told him
that when the stage stopped at the tavern at Win-
chester, he and Mary must go directly across the
street to the store on the opposite side, and hand
that letter to the person they would see behind the
counter: they would be taken care of at once.
They followed my directions. Dr. Woody, who
had formerly been salesman in my store in New-
port, happened to be in the store, and the letter
was handed to him. He read it, and at once took
charge of the mentioned property. The next day
I received a letter from this firm, acknowledging the
receipt of the property in good order and well con-
ditioned. The letter further said that the old car

456 REMINISCENCES,

Emancipation, Number One, was standing ready
with steam up, and that my consignment was put
in charge of a special agent and forwarded accord-
ing to my directions, without delay; and notified
me that similar consignments would always receive
prompt attention.

I had inclosed a short note to 'Squire Hopkins,
of Camden, Jay County, the next depot, which was
delivered to him by the agent who conducted John
and Mary to that place from Winchester. In a short
time I received a note from him, acknowledging the
receipt of my consignment, stating that car Eman-
cipation, Number Two, was standing ready, and
that the freight was forwarded at once according to
my directions, in charge of a special agent. The
writer said he hoped I would favor him with more
such consignments.

I received intelligence of the safe arrival of John
and Mary in Detroit, and afterward had news of
their arrival in Canada. They told their friends
there that they had no idea there were such white
people in the world as those who had so kindly be-
friended them in their hour of need.

All they had ever known of humanity was ex-
hibited in the tender mercies of the slaveholder.

In this case and many others I have mentioned,
there seems to have been no close pursuit; but
in many instances the fugitives narrowly escaped
capture after they had reached Cincinnati. I will
relate two or three incidents of this kind.

SCENES AT THE DEPOT

NARROW ESCAPE OF A SLAVE WOMAN.

457

A slave woman escaped from the vicinity of
Maysville, Kentucky, with her two children, made
her way to Cincinnati, and went t3 a long tenement
house on East Alley, where several colored families
lived. In about a week her master arrived in search
of her, and having learned of her whereabouts —
through the treachery, it is supposed of a negro man
who betrayed her hiding-place — he obtained a writ,
placed it in the hands of officers, and, with a posse,
went to capture her and her children. A colored
woman, occupying a separate apartment of the ten-
ement house, was just starting down street when
she saw the officers coming, and, divining their
object, ran quickly round a back way, gave the
alarm, and succeeded in getting the woman and two
children secreted and locked up, in her part of the
house, just as the party arrived. They searched the
rooms that the fugitive had just left, but found no
traces of her, and began to hunt in some of the
neighboring buildings. The woman who had given
the alarm, in the meantime locked her door, and
slipping out a back way, came to our house and
related her story with much excitement. While she
was yet talking, two more colored women came to
tell the same story, and ask advice.

I told them all to go back, one by one, and show
no alarm. To the first one I gave a large market
basket containing a full suit of men's clothing —
including an overcoat, as it was then cool spring
weather — directing her to disguise the slave woman

458 REMINISCENCES,

and send her out by some by-way to the comer of
Fifth and Central Avenue, where some one would
be waiting whom she would recognize. She was to
follow the person at some distance, and would be
conducted to our house. Then the children were
to be disguised and taken out, one at a time, accom-
panied by a single person, and brought in a round-
about way to the same place.

These directions were followed, and by 1 1 a. m. —
the alarm had been given early in the morning —
they were all safe at our house. The next night
they were conveyed on the Underground Railroad,
thirty miles out of the city, in the care of a trusty
conductor, and in a few days were beyond the reach
of pursuers. Her master and the officers watched
around the place she had left for more than a week
after she was safe in Canada.

ANOTHER NARROW ESCAPE.

A man and wife escaped from Louisville and
reached Cincinnati by aid of the chamber-maid on
the regular packet, who secreted them during the
passage and fed them. They were acquainted with
a free colored woman, a washerwoman, who had
formerly lived in Louisville, and on their arrival in
Cincinnati made their way to her room, which was
in the basement of a building on Third Street, near
Walnut. She secreted them, and they remained
with her several davs. A colored woman, a friend
of hers — living across the canal — learned of the fugi-
fives* hiding-place, and was very uneasy lest they
should be discovered. One night she became so

SCENES AT THE DEPOT. 459

troubled concerning them that she could not rest,
and about ten o'clock made ner way to our house,
and told me the story of the fugitives, and related
her premonition of danger. I told her that the
place where the slaves were hiding was very unsafe
and they must come away immediately ; that time
enough had elapsed since their flight for their
master to come in pursuit of them, and that their
hiding-place would probably be the first place
searched, as the master knew of their acquaint-
ance with the free colored woman. I told her
to conduct me to the place, directing her to walk
ahead, and explaining that I would follow a short
distance behind. We reached the place about
eleven o'clock. The woman with whom they were
stopping knew me, and introduced me to the fugi-
tives. I told them that they must leave immedi-
ately, directed them to get ready at once, and to
leave the house in a manner which I explained. I
then went out and in a short time the slave man
followed. Turning to the left he saw me on the
corner of Third and Walnut Streets, and walking
some distance behind me, he reached my house in
safety. The slave woman was disguised in a dress
and vail belonging to her friend, and, accompanied
by the woman who had conducted me to the place,
walked out of the house, turned to the right and
went up Main Street. In a short time they reached
the corner of Franklin and Broadway — where we
then resided — and the fugitives were secreted.
. Twenty minutes after they had left the house of the
washerwoman, a posse of men entered it, some at the

46o REMINISCENCES.

front, others at the rear entrance. A short search
convinced them that their prey had escaped, and
they were much enraged to find themselves foiled.
The fugitives remained quiet several days, until the
search in the city seemed to be over, and were then
forwarded via the Underground Railroad to Canada.

A HAIRBREADTH ESCAPE.

A slave man who had made his escape from Ken-
tucky, and reached Cincinnati in safety, took refuge
among the colored people living on Sixth Street,
near Broadway. He remained here several days,
without my knowledge, and it was only at the last
moment that I learned of his presence and was
able to warn him of his danger. I was informed
one evening by a white man that a company of
slave-hunters were in the city, in pursuit of a slave
man — that they had employed spies who had been
prowling around the colored settlements all day,
under pretense of business that concealed their
real errand. My informer was not known as an
abolitionist, but was friendly to fugitives; being a
business man, he kept his anti-slavery principles in
the dark as a matter of policy. Knowing my prin-
ciples, he divulged to me the intelligence that had
been confided to him, and inquired if I knew of such
a fugitive in the city. I told him I did not, but that
I would inquire of some of the colored people and
put them on their guard.

That night I called at Lloyd Lewis', a colored
family, with whom fugitives often stopped, and
inquired If they knew of a runaway slave lying in

SCENES AT THE DEPOT, ^gi

concealment somewhere in the city. Louis' wife

said that she knew of a fugitive at 's, on Sixth

Street, below Broadway. I wient immediately to
the place, and found the fugitive and the man of the
house, sitting out in the yard, enjoymg the cool
evening breeze, which was quite refreshing after the
warm day. They had no suspicion of danger, but
I soon alarmed them by telling them that there
were slave-hunters in the city looking after such a
man. I told the fugitive that he was in great
danger, and must change his quarters without a
moment's delay. It was then about nine o'clock at
night. He was conducted, at once, to a certain
point on Mount Auburn, at the head of Sycamore
Street, where I sent my horse and carriage to
meet him and conduct him to the next depot of the
Underground Railroad.

I was informed the next day that in less than ten
minutes after the fugitive left, the house was entered
by his master and a posse of men, who had pre-
viously discovered his whereabouts. They searched
the house thoroughly, but they were too late ; they
soon realized that their prey had escaped. I might
relate many similar instances that occurred in the
city. Fugitives were often spirited away when all
the preparations for their capture had been made,
and their foiled and baffled pursuers continued to
search for them after they had safely reached Can-
ada by way of the Underground Railroad.

462 REMINISCENCES.

CHAPTER XIII.

A PRO-SLAVERY MAN TURNS ABOLITIONIST — FOURTEEN
FUGITIVES CROSS ON THE ICE — SLAVE CHILDREN
PLACED IN OUR CHARGE — THE CASE OF WILLIAM
THOMPSON.

THE merchant to whom I allude, in the follow-
ing story, was connected with a large commis-
sion house on Walnut Street, below Second. The
principal business of the firm was with the South.
They received large quantities of sugar, molasses,
and cotton from the slaveholders, and filled the
orders of their Southern customers for provisions
of various kinds, and other articles. The planters
and Southern merchants regarded this firm as all
right on the slavery question, otherwise they would
not have patronized them and intrusted them with
their business. One of the customers of this house
lived in Virginia, but owned a large cotton planta-
tion in Mississippi, where he spent a part of his
time. On one occasion he was taking a company
of slaves, which he had purchased in Virginia, to
his plantation in Mississippi. He shipped them at
Wheeling, and intended to keep a sharp watch on
them as the boat passed down the Ohio River, lest

SCENES AT THE DEPOT. 463

they should attempt to escape. The boat arrived
at Cincinnati in the night, and lay at the wharf till
morning, discharging freight. The slaves were kept
in the back part of the boat, and closely guarded,
but one of them, a strong active man, managed to
spring on to another boat that Jay alongside the
wharf, and slip ashore under cover of darkness
without being discovered. He made his way
through the city, and concealed himself among
the hills on the northern limit.

When the planter discovered that one of his men
had escaped, he resolved to remain a few days and
endeavor to capture him ; expecting that his friends
in Cincinnati would, of course, give him all the
assistance in their power. He could not think of
losing so valuable a piece of property without
making every exertion to recover it. But it would
not do to detain the boat and run the risk of losing
other slaves, so he sent an agent to take charge of
his slaves, and the boat went on. He went imme-
diately to the mercantile house, of which I have
spoken, to tell his grievances, and get assistance
and advice. He described his negro's personal ap-
pearance very particularly to the members of the
firm; but they were too busy to hunt runaway
slaves, and referred him to the police. The master
related his story to the police and put them on the
alert ; he also employed others to make a thorough
search among the various colored settlements in the
city. But no discovery was made that day, and the
master continued to mourn the loss of his valuable
slave.

464

REMINISCENCES.

The fugitive, whom I will call Jack, lay concealed
all that day and the following night among the hills
noith of the city. Being unacquainted with the
locality he knew not what direction to take, and
feared to venture into the city to look for people of
his own color. •The weather was mild, and his
hiding-place among the woods and ravines on Vine
Street Hill was not uncomfortable to one who had
known the hardships and sufferings of slavery.

Jack supposed that his master would not stay
long in the city to hunt for him, and concluded to
lie still until the search was over. But he had no
food, and the second morning he was suffering with
hunger. After debating in his mind regarding the
best course of action, he decided to venture out
and inquire for work at the few houses he saw not
far off, and beg for something to eat. Now, it so
happened that his hiding-place was near the resi-
dence of the merchant of whom I have spoken, who
lived on the top of Vine Street Hill, and Jack made
his way to this house, little thinking that the owner
was his master's friend.

The merchant had his horse and buggy at the
gate and was about to start to his place of business,
when Jack walked up and inquired for work, saying
that he had been hunting work, but had not found
any, and concluded by begging for something to
eat. The merchant instantly recognized him, from
the description given by his master of his runaway
slave, and accused him of being the negro who had
made his escape from the boat a short time before.

Jack confessed that he was, but plead earnestly

SCENES A T THE DEPOT,

465

with the gentleman not to betray him, and begged
pitifully not to be taken back to slavery. The mer-
chant professed no anti-slavery or abolition senti-
ments, but as he saw the hunted, famished fugitive
pleading before him, his humanity gained the
ascendency, and he promised Jack that he would not
betray him. His next thought was, "What shall
I do with him?" He had heard of the Under-
ground Railroad but knew nothing of its practical
workings, and knew not where to apply for advice
and assistance. He stood for some minutes in
thought, while poor Jack eagerly scanned his face,
longing to know if he was to be sent back to
slavery, yet dreading to ask.

The merchant finally decided what he should do
next. He had some victuals put into a tin bucket,
which he gave to Jack, and told him to go down a
steep ravine, about one hundred and fifty yards
north of the house, and hide himself in a cleft or
small cave in the rocks — which he pointed out to
him — and remain there till some arrangement for
securing his freedom could be made.

A great load was lifted from poor Jack's heart.
He said: ** Thank you, massa! God bless you,
massa," and did as he had been directed. Then the
merchant stepped into his buggy and proceeded on
his way down town, much perplexed concerning his
charge. He had resolved to secure Jack's freedom
if possible, but knew not how to get him to a safe
place, or how*to start him on that mysterious road
leading to Canada. Instead of going directly to his
oflSce, he called at the business house of a wholesale

466 REMINISCENCES,

grocery firm on Columbia Street, east of Main. He
wished to see one of the firm whom he knew to be
an abolitionist. Finding the gentleman in the office,
he took him to one side, and said in a low tone: **I
have a secret I would like to divulge to you, but do
not know whether or not it will be safe. I have got
myself into a predicament, and know not how to
get out of it."

The other replied: "You need feel no diffidence
or fear about divulging any thing to me ; what you
say will be kept in confidence."

Thus assured, the merchant related the circum-
stances that had occurred that morning, and asked
for counsel and assistance.

His confidant laughed and replied: **I can help
you out of that difficulty easily enough. I can take
you to a man who knows all about the Under-
ground Railroad, and who will help you out of that
dilemma."

The merchant then went to his office, but soon
returned, and his friend stepped into the buggy with
him and they drove to my store. The grocery
merchant, with whom I was acquainted, came into
my counting-room, and told me that there was a
gentleman waiting in his buggy outside, who wished
to see me on some special business. I walked out
with him to the buggy and he introduced me to his
friend. I knew the merchant at sight, but had no
personal acquaintance with him. He related the
whole circumstance to me, and seemed to regard
it as a very serious afiair. I laughed, for I was
used to such cases and was amused to see how

SCENES AT THE DEPOT. 467

he regarded it. I told him there need be no
difficulty in the matter, and recommended him to
go to John Hatfield, a trusty colored man who was
used to such business, and relate the circumstance
to him. He would go out and take charge of the
fugitive and conduct him to some safe place where
he could remain until the train of the Underground
Railroad was ready to start for Canada. The mer-
chant said he was not acquainted with Hatfield ; he
wished I would go myself and tell him about the
fugitive. He then undertook to describe the place
where the fugitive was hid, but I told him that I
was not acquainted in that locality, and could not
describe it to Hatfield so that he could find it.

"Well, then," replied the merchant, "just step
into my buggy and I will drive out and show you
where he is hid."

So I took my seat by him in the buggy, and the
other gentleman returned to his store. We drove
hastily out to the top of Vine Street Hill, and
stopped in front of my companion's residence.
Hitching the horse at the gate, we walked through
the garden and down the hill to the place where the
fugitive was trying to conceal himself among the
rocks. I saw his head, as he peeped out at us,
while we were yet several rods distant. As we
neared his place of concealment I called out, com-
mandingly, "Come out of there. Jack; what are
you doing among the rocks?" He crawled out,
looking much alarmed ; he evidently supposed that
the merchant had been to get help and had come to
take him. I then spoke kindly to him, telling him

468 REMINISCENCES.

not to be alarmed, that we were his friends, and
ended by cordially shaking hands with him. His
countenance brightened, and he seemed to feel that
all was right.

A consultation was then held,, and it was decided
that he must be removed immediately. The place
did not afford secure concealment, for people often
passed over the hills hunting birds and other
small game. I said: '* There are plenty of safe
places in the city if we can only get him to them
safely."

The merchant replied: **My buggy is at your
service ; take him where you please.*'

'*Not so fast, my friend,'* I answered; "that
would not do at all. Thy buggy and horse are
well known, and so am I. It would not do for me
to appear in open daylight with a fugitive slave in
thy buggy ; we might meet Jack's hunters in the
street. It would probably lead to his capture, and
bring both thee and me into trouble.

A plan for getting Jack into the city was finally
agreed upon. Bordering on the west line of the
merchant's premises was a strip of woods which
opened near the head of Elm Street. A path led
down this ravine, by a stone quarry, where some
men were at work, near the road, quarrying out
stone. These surroundings suggested and aided
our plan. According to our directions, Jack took
off his coat, rolled up his sleeves, hung his coat on
his arm and took the tin bucket in his hand, thus

•

presenting the appearance of a laborer. It was
then gardening time in spring, and several people

SCENES AT THE DEPOT. ^Qg

were at work in sight. We made our way into
the merchant's garden and passed slowly through
it, looking at the vegetable beds and appearing
to direct Jack where to work, then crossing the
adjoining garden which belonged to the merchant's
mother-in-law, we made our way into the strip of
woods. Here I directed the merchant and the
fugitive to remain until I reached the road, about
a hundred yards ahead, that led down the ravine,
then Jack was to follow me keeping his eye on
me and stopping when he saw me stop. I remarked
to the merchant as I started, **It is nobody's
business who travels the same road that I do.**
Looking back in a few minutes I saw Jack fol-
lowing me, and the merchant standing in the
woods, anxiously watching us as we passed the
men working in the stone quarry. When he saw us
pass them without being molested, he went back to
his buggy, feeling much relieved. I walked on
leisurely, arid Jack followed at a short distance.
Reaching the head of Elm Street, I proceeded on
my way down that street till I came to the house
of Edward Harwood, that ever faithful friend to the
slave. His good wife met me on the porch and
invited me into the house. To her invitation I
replied: "Not yet; I will wait for a friend who is
near by." Jack had now arrived at the gate. He
halted there and stood irresolutely, as if fearing to
enter. I said: '*Come in, there is no danger," and
Harwood's wife, a meet companion for her husband
in all benevolent impulses and actions, also invited
him in. It is no wonder that Jack was fearful and

470 REMINISCENCES.

•

distrustful ; a fugitive always suspected danger, not
knowing but that the plans made to secure his
safety were schemes to betray him.

The family were at the table in the dining-room,
having just completed their noon repast. We
walked into this room, and when Harwood rose to
welcome us, I said : * * Edward, here is a stranger, a
man seeking liberty ; I want thee to take care of
him till he is called for. He is hungry — feed him,
and keep him safely for awhile, for he is sought
after."

Harwood extended a hearty welcome to the fugi-
tive, and in his good-humored manner of talking,
said: '*Sit down right here, and eat your fill, and
if any one comes in and attempts to molest you
while eating, pick up that chair and knock him
down."

**Stop, my friend," I said; **I did not tell thee
to fight, but to keep him safe till called for." The
family had many similar cases in their experience,
and did not need further explanation. The fugitive
remained with them several days, when a suitable
opportunity occurred for his removal from the city.
William Beard, a prominent abolitionist from Union
County, Indiana, came to town with market stuff in
a two-horse wagon, and arrangements were made
with him. When he went out of town, he had a
negro driver who was dressed in good clothes and
wore a white hat, and who bore little resem-
blance in personal appearance to the half-starved
negro who had hidden in the ravines and hills at the
head of Vine Street. William Beard took him to

scem::s at the depot.

471

Union County, Indiana, where he tarried a few
days, and then took passage for Canada, via the old
reliable road.

FOURTEEN FUGITIVES CROSS ON THE ICE.

The Ohio River was a great barrier to fugitive
slaves. They often escaped from their masters and
made their way to the river, but not being able to
find any means of crossing, they were overtaken
and captured by their pursuers, sometimes being
detected while looking for a skiff or some other
craft which they could break loose from its fasten-
ing and appropriate to their own use. The slaves
who lived some distance from the river generally
Icnew nothing about managing a skiff, and if they
could find one, they were afraid to venture into it
and attempt the passage of the river alone. Some-
times they made a confidant of some colored person
living near the river, who would help them across.
In the winter, however, when an unusually cold
spell of weather stopped navigation and bridged the
river over with ice, the main obstacle in the way of
the slaves who wished to reach Ohio was removed.
At such times we always expected a stampede of
fugitives from Kentucky. Large companies some-
times got together and crossed the same night, so
that the Underground Railroad did a lively busi-
ness while this natural bridge lasted.

During one of these cold spells, when the river
was frozen over and the crossing was good, a num-
ber of slaves, who lived a short distance back of
Newport, Kentucky, concluded that it was a favor-

472

REMINISCENCES,

able time for them to get out of slavery. They had
been contemplating such a movement for some
time — consulting together and preparing themselves
for the attempt to gain their liberty by flight.
Some of them had friends and acquaintances amcng
the colored people in Cincinnati, and one of the
company ventured to come over on the ice one
night, and inform these colored people of the plan
their slave friends had made.

The night for commencing the flight was ap-
pointed, and it was arranged that some of their
colored friends should meet the fugitives at the
river and conduct them to places of safety. The
company was to divide and land at three separate
points, that they might not attract attention an<f
arouse suspicion, by their numbers. This was the
plan I suggested when the friends of the fugitives
applied to me for advice, and assistance. I also
suggested that teams should be in readiness to meet
them at these points in order to convey them that
night to the next depot of the Underground Rail-
road. My team and two others were accordingly
put in readiness.

Dr. Blunt, of Darke County, Ohio, who often
stopped with me when he came to the city on busi-
ness, happened to be in the city that day, and came
to my house in the evening. After supper, he said:
**Mr. Coffin, 1 wish that some of your Underground
Railroad passengers would come along to-night. I
have never had the pleasure of seeing a fugitive
slave, and I would like to see one. There have
been a few in our neighborhood, and I have con-

SCENES AT THE DEPOT, 473

tributed to help them on their way, but I did not
see them."

** Doctor/* I replied, " thou hast come just at the
right time ; I can initiate thee into the work to-
night. Fourteen fugitives are to cross on the ice at
twelve o'clock, and we have three teams and drivers
ready to meet them at separate points, and take
them out of the city by different roads to a place
beyond Mt. Auburn. I expect to see them stowed
into the wagons, if they succeed in crossing the
river, and then I must see that they all get together
safely on top of the hill. That will probably con-
sume the most of the night ; dost thou think thou
can stand such a jaunt as that ?'*

**I think I can endure as much as you," he re-
plied, **and I am ready for the adventure."

About eleven o'clock we went to the house of
Thomas Dorum, one of the fugitives* colored
friends, and where part of the company were to
be brought. About midnight we had the pleasure
of seeing the expected fugitives arrive, and soon
saw them and the other two companies stowed in
the wagons, and started on their separate routes. I
directed them where to meet, on the top of the hill
beyond Mt. Auburn.

The doctor and I then went up Sycamore Street
to the place appointed for them to meet, and had
the pleasure of seeing them all together. They were
able-bodied, good looking men and women — two
or three of the men had their wives with them.
The men were armed and provided with plenty of
ammunition ; they seemed determined never to be
40

^74 REMINISCENCES,

captured. Dr. Blunt's deepest interest was aroused,
and he became quite enthusiastic.

** That's right," said he to the iTien when he saw
their weapons ; *'let your watchword be liberty or
death. Die in your tracks, boys, rather than be
taken back to slavery." He directed them to load
their revolvers and keep them in readiness.

I told them that my advice was to throw away
their revolvers, and look to a higher power for pro-
tection, and gave them my views in regard to carry-
ing weapons in a few words, for we had but little
time to talk.

The doctor still encouraged them to fight for
their liberty, if necessary, and gave them all the
money he had with him to help them on their way,
retaining only what he thought he would need for
his expenses home. I do not remember the amount
he gave them, but it was several dollars.

This was a few years before the rebellion. The
doctor moved to Kansas soon after this occurrence,
and after the war broke out, and I heard that he
was made General, and was at the head of an army,
I said, when I read accounts in the papers of his
victories : ' * They have one General who will fight
for liberty or die, and if slaves come inside his lines,
they will never be given up to their masters, even
if they are claimed by men professing to be loyal."

SLAVE CHILDREN PLACED IN OUR CHARGE.

In addition to our labors for the fugitives, we
often had the care of slave children who were
brought from the South by their white fathers, or

EMANCIPATINO SLA VES.

475

by agents, for the purpose of being educated, and
placed in our charge. Besides the care and respon-
sibility thus placed upon us, the children often
proved troublesome and expensive. I will refer to
a few cases. ^^ ^

A prominent lawyer in Tenneslbe sent two slave
boys — his own children — to Cincinnati in the care
of an agent. On their arrival in this city the agent
inquired for an abolitionist, saying that the master
of the boys wished him to place them in the charge
of some reliable anti-slavery man who would put
them in a good school and look after their interests.
He was referred to me and came to my store, bring-
ing the boys with him. When he made known his
business to me, I declined, at first, to assume the
responsibility. I told him that I was experienced
in such cases and had often found the charge
a troublesome one ; besides, 1 had much business on
my hands, and my time and attention were fully
occupied. I recommended him to take the boys to
the Union Literary Institute, in Indiana, a chartered
institution, established for the benefit of colored
people. It was a well-managed and cheap board
ing-school about ninety miles distant ; but he plead
several excuses — he was a stranger in the country,
the limited time of his stay in Ohio would not
admit of his going with them, etc., and begged and
insisted that 1 should take charge of the boys, until
I finally promised to do so. He left money enough
to defray their expenses for the first term at school,
and assured me that more would be sent from time
to time, to meet further expenses, and to pay me

^y^ REMINISCENCES,

well for my trouble. I placed the boys at school,
but when the sum was expended I had to advance
money to defray their expenses, and never suc-
ceeded in getting it refunded.

Another case«'^as that of a slave girl who utis
brought from Mississippi to this city by her father.
She was a handsome girl of about sixteen, as whrte
in appearance as any of our children. She had no
education, and her master wished her to attend a
good school. He stopped at a hotel, made known
his errand, and wsfs referred to me. He came to
see me, but I refused to take charge of the girl
and recommended other persons to him. He went
to see them, but they also refused to accept the
charge, and he returned to my house, bringing the
girl with him. He laid the case before my wife, and
finally succeeded in getting her consent to receive
the girl. He left seventy-five dollars to be used in
defraying the school and boarding expenses of his
slave daughter, and gave me his address, promising
to remit more money soon after his return, to pay
her board and buy clothing. We at once sent the
girl to the Ninth Street public school, and as she
was white in appearance no objection was made to
her presence there. She had been brought up
under the evil influences of slavery, but had not
been harshly treated. She was averse to study and
unwilling to go to school, and gave us much trouble
on that account. Coming from a milder climate
than ours, the clothing that had been provided for
her was not suitable for winter, and we had to pur*
chase some at once.

EMA NCIPA TING SLA VES. 477

Her expenses soon consumed the seventy-five
dollars left by her master. I wrote to him several
times, inclosing a bill of her expenses, and at last
received a reply from him. The letter contained no
money, and was couched in abusive language. He
said that if the abolitionists were too mean to school
the girl, they could send her back to slavery, where
she would be better cared for ; he would be at no
further expense on her account. We kept the girl
at school as long as we could prevail upon her to
attend. Our counsels and admonitions could not
counteract the influences of her early life. She
quit school and fell into bad company among the
colored people, but finally married a respectable
colored man, and withdrew from all improper asso-
ciations.

In other instances we were more fortunate,
though such a charge always brought heavy respon-
sibility and care. Old Judge Cage, a wealthy planter
of Louisiana, living several miles distant from New
Orleans, had an interest in mercantile business,
conducted by his brother in the city. Both were
slaveholders. The brother living in the city pur-
chased a light mulatto woman to whom he was
much attached, and kept her as his wife. The law
did not recognize such bonds, and the children of
such marriages followed the condition of the mother
and were slaves. This couple had a family of eight
children, nearly white. They were brought up as
other wealthy gentlemen's children in the South, and
had slaves to wait on them. They had good educa-
tional advantages in their childhood, and when they

^78 REMINISCENCES,

grew up, the three eldest children — two sons and a
daughter — were sent East to complete their educa-
tion. The five younger children were still at hon?e
when their parents died, their father leaving no will.
According to the law they were part of the estate
and were liable to be sold, but in the settlement.
Judge Cage managed to get them as a part of his
share of his brother's estate, so they became his
property. But he did not intend to make slaves
of them. One of them, a boy twelve or fourteen
years old, the judge wished to send to Ohio to be
educated, and he wrote to Judge Matthews, of Cin-
cinnati, concerning the matter. Matthews recom-
mended him to put the boy under my care. The
first I knew of the case, the boy was sent to me
from New Orleans with a letter from Judge Cage,
requesting me to take charge of the bearer, and
place him in some good school. The writer
informed me that he had sent a draft to Judge
Matthews to defray expenses, and that all bills
would be promptly paid.

I took charge of the boy and placed him at school
at the Union Literary Institute, where I kept him
for three or four years. All his bills were promptly
settled by Judge Cage. A few years before the
war, old Judge Cage died, and the settling of his
estate devolved upon his son, Duncan S. Cage.
The children of his uncle that still remained in the
South — four daughters — came into his possession as
part of the estate, but he had no wish to enslave his
cousins. Shortly before the rebellion, I received
a letter from him, stating that he had shipped the

EMASC7PA TtSO SLA VES, ^jg

four girls to my care at Gncinnati, and wished me
to take charge of them on the arn\'al of the boat, and
place them at a school at Oberlin. He inclosed a
draft for five hundred dollars, and said that all bills
would be promptly paid. He requested me to
address him at Baton Rouge, as he was then a
member of the Louisiana Legislature, which met at
that place. On the arrival of the boat I met the
girls at the river, and conveyed them to our house.
They remained with us several weeks, until I could
correspond with the proper authorities at Oberlin,
and make proper arrangements for boarding, and
until we could provide the girls with clothing suit-
able for this climate. They were well supplied with
fine clothes adapted for a Southern climate, but had
few articles of dress warm enough for service here.
It was autumn when they arrived, and it was neces-
sary to purchase winter clothing. The oldest girl,
a young woman of twenty-one, who had been kept
by a merchant of New Orleans, according to South-
em custom, and well furnished with rich dresses and
jewelry, seemed unwilling to go to school. She
said she did not wish to come away from New
Orleans, but Mr. Cage would have her come with
her sisters. She wanted to go back to the life
she had left. I tried to reason with her, and prevail
upon her to change her course of life entirely. I
endeavored to impress upon her mind a sense of
the sinfulness of living in such a way; I told her
that the ^nerchant who kept her as his wife was not
her husband legally, that he could not be in Louis-
iana, and probably had no intention of making her

4,-8

BEMiyiSCEXCES.

. 1.

-rc'.v UP. thf three eldest children-
V. crc sent Kast to co
The five vounc^er childr
Alun llu ir parents died. the»
A. «. "riling to the law the
.;!'^i V. I re liable to be s
Jr.lL;e Cai^e managed '
>]^Lre of his brother*
i)r«»;)ertv. But he

i * •>

<^f them. One '

.1 his

icr in

n;m. ?s.c
.ic was dcttr-
' live the life of a
a glinip>e into ihc
.rals that existed in the

>tars old, the i -^ demoralizing influences oi

educated, anr'

cinnati, cor ..e necessary arrangements were made,

mended ^ ,• riir^e >istcrs to (')bcrlin, and deposited

first I ' ^. ;rcM>"rcr .if ihe c«>Hf^e cnou-'h rn^.ncy to

from '• "^/ic-ir ntce>siry cxiK-nscs. All bills ir.cjrrcd
•I *

req« -'^^-r *k'C<"*""^ ^^^'^'^' pi'-mp^b' J^t-tiled by Di:r.cMn

pi •' -j.^c. ""til the war cut off communication be-

V" ^''"^""'•"^*'^ *'^"^^ ^^'^^' ^^rlcans. This gcnikman

j^^^n officer in tlic rebel army, and I learned t'nat

jariti^ the uar he In>i not only his slaves but all

j/,e rest of h.is properly. Xi.» money was received

ffotn him after the war c<»mmenced. and when the

nicans on hand were exhausted, the girls w ere left

withoat sa])p«>rt. I was obliged to bring them from

Oberlin to my huuse and look for situati-^ns for

them. f'»r tluir only alternative now was to sup-o.-rr

themselves by their own labor. They were no:

accustt»nuil to hoasework ; they could use the

ne^vile l>retl\' well, iuit had not been used to ha:d

w.»rk t»f .mv ki:u:, >«» that I found it difficult t.^ "ct

situation:* fur liiem. 1 succeeded finally, however,

KM A ycirA TJXQ SLA \ 7X ^S I

')laccd in ^ood homes, where they

ni cared for. They are now all

*^o be doing well. They were

young women, and fair

•- "i^.., -^i ave children, from the

; '^.^^ '^' emancipated by their white

^"'^ ider our care while they were

' v.ation. They attended school for

, making our house their home during

vals. They were nearly white, and were

aally bright and handsome children. They

^otained a good education, grew up, and married

respectably.

Thus it seemed to fall to our lot to have such
cares upon us, the most of the time, for nearly
twenty years after our removal to Cincinnati. It
was perhaps attributable, in part, to the fact that
my wife and I had been favored to overcome preju-
dice against color or caste.

THE CASE OF WILLIAM THOMPSON.

My attention was often called to other cases of
emancipated slaves. Families of slaves were fre-
quently brought to Cincinnati by their white fathers
who wished to emancipate them and locate them
somewhere in Ohio. I was often called upon for
advice in regard to suitable localities, where land
could be obtained on reasonable terms, etc.

Among the many cases to which my attention was
called, was that of William Thompson, a planter
from Mississippi, of whom some account has pre-

48o

REMINISCENCES,

his wife by coming North, where their bond could
be legalized. If he was honest and sincere in his
profession of love for her, he would come to her in
the North; while if she returned to him in the
South, she would be liable to be enslaved.

But she received letters and money from him, and
turned a deaf ear to my counsel. She was deter-
mined to go back, and returned to live the life of a
concubine. This case gives us a glimpse into the
customs and state of morals that existed in the
South, and shows the demoralizing influences of
slavery.

When all the necessary arrangements were made,
I took the three sisters to Oberlin, and deposited
with the treasurer of the college enough money to
defray their necessary expenses. All bills incurred
on their account were promptly settled by Duncan
S. Cage, until the war cut off communication be-
tween Cincinnati and New Orleans. This gentleman
was an officer in the rebel army, and I learned that
during the war he lost not only his slaves but all
the rest of his property. No money was received
from him after the war commenced, and when the
means on hand were exhausted, the girls were left
without support. I was obliged to bring them from
Oberlin to my house and look for situations for
them, for their only alternative now was to support
themselves by their own labor. They were not
accustomed to housework ; they could use the
needle pretty well, but had not been used to hard
work of any kind, so that I found it difficult to get
situations for them. I succeeded finally, however,

EMANCIPA TJNO SLA VES. 48 1

in getting them placed in good homes, where they
were looked after and cared for. They are now all
married, and are said to be doing well. They were
amiable and beautiful young women, and fair
scholars.

At another time, three slave children, from the
State of Kentucky, were emancipated by their white
father and placed under our care while they were
obtaining an education. They attended school for
several years, making our house their home during
the intervals. They were nearly white, and were
unusually bright and handsome children. They
obtained a good education, grew up, and married
respectably.

THE CASE OF WILLIAM THOMPSON.

Among the many cases to which my attention was
called, was that of William Thompson, a planter
from Mississippi, of whom some account has pre-

482 REMINISCENCES.

viously been given. He owned two cotton plan-
tations in that State, and about forty slaves.
Wishing to emancipate some of his human prop-
erty, he came to Cincinnati, bringing with him
fourteen slaves, whom he designed to settle on a
farm in this State. They traveled all the way
by land, in a common road wagon, with a team
of four mules, and on their arrival in this city
stopped at the Black Bear tavern, on Ninth Street,
where there was a good wagon yard. Thompson
had sold one of his farms to enable him to settle
this family of fourteen in a free State, and intended
the next year to sell bis other farm and bring the
rest of his slaves to Ohio, He was a man over
fifty years old, very ignorant and illiterate, and an
entire stranger in this part of the country. He was
at the mercy of unscrupulous, designing people,
and had fallen into the hands of such persons before
I knew anything about him.

Those to whom he made known his business in-
troduced him to J. F , a well known pro-slavery

lawyer, who had been Judge of the Criminal Court,
and had won an unenviable notoriety by deciding
several fugitive cases that were brought before him
in favor of slavery — in direct violation of law of the
State of Ohio. He lost his position as judge when
the Criminal Court was abolished by an act of the
legislature. When he learned that Thompson had
money with him to the amount of several thousand
dollars and was informed of his intentions, he began
to plan to get the money into his own hands. He
said to Thompson : "As you are a stranger here.

EMANCTPATINO SLA VES, 483

and have but little knowledge of the quality and
value of land in this State, I would advise you to
rent a house in the city for your people at present,
and employ an agent, some responsible person, to
purchase land for you, and settle your people on it.
Then you can return at once to Mississippi, and
attend to your business there, and make prepara-
tions for bringing the rest of your people to the
North next year. I am well acquainted in the
country, and will act as your agent here, if you will
place your money in my hands."

All this looked plausible, and Thompson seemed

inclined to accept the offer. J. F returned to

his office and drew up a contract constituting him-
self agent for Thompson, with full power to invest
Thompson's money and locate his people, at his
own discretion." Thompson deferred signing the
article until the next day, wishing a little time to
consider the matter before signing the contract.

Somebody had whispered in his car that J. F

was not a responsible man, and that he drank too
much whisky. This caused Thompson some un-
easiness, and he went out among the merchants to
make some inquiry. Several of them advised him
to have nothing to do with J. F , and recom-
mended him to come to me, and to act according to
my advice. Next morning, a respectable merchant
came to my store, and said : * * I wish that you

would get that Mississippi man out of J. F *s

hands."

**What Mississippi man?" I asked, for I had
heard nothing of Thompson.

484 REMINISCENCES,

The merchant then told me who he was, what
constituted his business in Cincinnati, and gave an

account of J. F 's endeavors to get hold of his

money.

I replied: **I had not heard of such a man being
in the city, but if I were to see him, I would advise
him to attend to his own business."

While we were talking, another prominent mer-
chant entered my store in company with Thompson,
whom he introduced to me. He said '*that he had
met with Thompson that morning, and advised him
to come to me for advice in regard to setling his
slaves in Ohio. He was about to make an agent of

J. F ; he has an article of agreement written by

J. F , but I advised him not to sign it, and

assured him that he could rely upon your advice.
I will now leave him in your hands.'* He then re-
turned to his place of business.

I asked Thompson some questions, in order to
inform myself regarding his intentions, and, after
answering them, he handed me J. F 's docu-
ment to read.

I advised him not to sign it, or to make an agent
of any person, but to attend to the business him-
self; to go into the country where he could buy
land on reasonable terms and make his own pu^
chases. I mentioned several colored settlements
that afforded the advantages of schools, and told
him that I would give him letters of introduction to
men in those neighborhoods, who would assist him
in selecting a suitable location for his people, and
whose advice and judgment he could rely upon.

EMANClPArtNO SLAVES. 485

Thompson's only knowledge of business related to
raising and selling cotton, and buying negroes; in
regard to money matters he was quite ignorant. I
found that he had several thousand dollars in South-
ern paper with him, which was at a small discount
here, and advised him to deposit it in bank at
what it was worth, so that he could draw it
out, as he had need, in our currency, I in-
formed him that he could not purchase land in
the country with Southern money. He had,
besides, several hundred dollars in gold, which I
advised him to take with him. He appeared to
have no knowledge of banking business, and it
seemed difficult for him to understand anything
about it. I told him that I would go with him
to the bank where I kept my deposits, and assist
him in this matter, charging him nothing for my
trouble, but he appeared confused and reluctant.
I referred him to two or three prominent business
men, telling him that he could consult with them
and return to my store at one o'clock, when I
would give him further directions about locating
his people, and furnish him with letters of intro-
duction. He returned at that hour, seeming
more cheerful, and settled in his mind. He said
that he wanted me to act as his ag^ent, to take
charge of his people and locate them ; he would
place all his money in my hands except enough to
take him home. I told him that I could not assume
the responsibility — that he ought not to put his
money into another person's hands, but to keep it
in his own and attend to it himself He then urged

486

REMINISCENCES.

me to go with him to the country and assist him to
find a suitable location, offering to pay me well for
my time and trouble. I told him that I could not
leave my business, and that it was unnecessary for
him to incur additional expense. I advised him to
settle his people in Darke County, Ohio, near the
Union Literary Institute, which was situated near
the State line, dividing Ohio and Indiana. This
institution, as I have mentioned before, was estab-
lished for the benefit of colored children ; it had a
charter granted by the Indiana Legislature. I told
Thompson that there were large settlements of col-
ored people on both sides of the State line, land
Cuuld be purchased on reasonable terms, and I
considered the locality in every way a suitable one.
I said that I would give him a letter to a friend of
mine living near there, w-ho was an abolitionist ana
a good man in every sense of the word, and who
would take an interest in his people, and assist him
in finding a good location. I examined his paper
money, and again advised him to deposit it in bank
at its worth, as it was not current in the country,
and would not be taken at par value for land. By
his request I went with him to the bank to deposit
his money, but I could not prevail on him to get a
bank book and deposit the money in his own name;
he insisted on having it deposited in my name. I
finally consented to this arrangement and gave him
my check for the amount. I gave him a letter to
Nathan Thomas, made out a map of the road he was
to travel, and gave him all necessary directious. I
went with him that afternoon to the wagon-yard,

EMANCrPA TINQ SLA VES. ^7

where his slaves were staying, and to my surprise 1
found that, with the exception of one old woman,
all had complexions that showed they were related
to the white race. Thompson informed me that the
whole family were children or grandchildren of the
old negro woman, with the exception of one young
woman, who was the wife of her oldest son.

This daughter-in-law, who had several small chil-
dren, Thompson had bought, that she might accom-
pany her husband. I next inquired about the father
of the family, and Thompson confessed that he was
their father. Two or three of his sons were grown
to manhood.

J F , the lawyer, came while we were

talking, and appeared much disappointed when
Thompson stated his conclusions, and refused to
sig^ the document which the lawyer had drawn
up, constituting himself Thompson's agent. He
said that his charge for writing the document was
five dollars ; Thompson paid it and appeared glad to
get rid of him so easily.

The next morning the party started on their
way to Darke County, according to my directions.
Thompson delivered my letter to Nathan Thomas,
who went with him to look for a farm, as I
requested. They soon found a suitable farm on
the Ohio side of the State line, near Union Literary
Institute. Thompson purchased it and settled his
family on it. In a few weeks he returned to Cin-
cinnati, bringing one of his yellow sons with him.
He purchased a carriage here and harnessing to it

48g REMISISCEN<XS.

two good mules, which he had brought with him, be
started back to Mississippi.

In the autumn of the next year, 'tfter seUing his
remaining farm and his crop of cotton, he fitted out
another team and brought to Ohio all the rest of
his slaves, with the exception of one man, whose
wife and children belonged to another master, and
who preferred to remain with them in slavery.
Thompson sold this man to his wife's owner.

This latter company of slaves numbered twenty-
six, including women and children. Among them
was a woman of between twenty-five and thirty
years of age, who had several mulatto children.
Thompson confessed that these were his own chil-
dren. Their mother had lived on the farm which
he had just sold ; so it appeared that he kept a
slave wife on each of his plantations. Yet Thomp-
son was a professor of religion, according to his
own representations, and a member of the Baptist
Church.

Such personal histories as this show the demoial*
izing and corrupting influences of slavery.

Thompson wished to buy land for each family and
for his sons. I advised him to deposit his money-
most of which was in Southern paper — in the bank,
and to draw it out whenever he found a tract (^
land that he could purchase at low rates for cash.
This plan suited him in regard to buying land, but
he wished to leave his money with me, and draw
me instead of on the bank. He said he dc.
deposit ten thousand dollars with mc. and
to loan it out for him. I said that I did r

EUASaPATINO SLAVES. 485

take the responsibility, and advised him not to loan
the money just then; opportunities might soon
offer for purchasing land on good terms for cash,
and he had better deposit his money so that he
could draw it at any time. He seemed to place
much confidence in me, and still insisted that I
should take charge of his money. Knowing that
he was ignorant of business matters in this part of
the country, and might easily be defrauded by such

men as J. F , I at last consented to assume the

responsibility and receive his money. He placed
ten thousand dollars in my hands, which I deposited
in bank, subject to his order at any time, and for
which I gave him my individual obligation.

Thompson went to the locality where he had set-
tled his first company of staves, and soon found
opportunities to purchase several tracts of land. He
drew his money, bought the land, and located his
people on it. He remained in that settlement,
making his home with his first family.

490

JtEMJNJSCENCE&

CHAPTER XIV.

MAJOR PHILLIPS — A SLAVEHOLDER'S COLORED FAMILY —
MY TRIP WITH THE MAJOR DOWN THE RIVER —
INCIDENTS OF THE JOURNEY — DISCUSSIONS WITH
SLAVEHOLDERS — INSIGHTS INTO SOUTHERN SOCIAL
LIFE — ^A WHIPPING ON BOARD A BOAT.

A FEW years after my experience with Thomp-
son, I was called to assume another trouble-
some and responsible charge. As it involved
experiences of varied characters, and gave an
insight into some of the internal workings of
slavery, I will give it at some length. The prin-
cipal personage in the case was Major Phillips, an
old gentleman nearly eighty years of age, who,
when I first knew him, lived on Broadway, in this
city, in a fine residence nearly opposite the Presby-
terian church. He had moved to this city from a
large cotton plantation in Mississippi, near Yazoo
City. Having engaged extensively in cotton plant-
ing, there he had accumulated a large fortune, part
of which was invested in slaves ; he owned a hun-
dred and forty at one time. Before coming to Cin-
cinnati he sold the greater part of his real estate
and most of his slaves, bringing to this city sev*

EMANCIPA TING SLA VES, 491

eral of his favorite servants, whom he emancipated.
Among these was a mulatto woman, with four or
five small children, nearly white, whom he claimed
as his own. He also brought with him one of his
grandsons, a boy about fifteen years old, the son
of his daughter, who was dead. He had two or
three white sons whom he had settled in business
in New Orleans, some years before he moved to
Ohio, giving them a large estate.

They had every advantage, but proved to be
reckless and dissipated ; they soon squandered their
property, and caused their father much trouble and
anxiety. Major Phillips lost his wife several years
before he left the South. She was said to have
been a woman of much natural ability and culture ;
was an excellent wife, and a kind and indulgent
mistress. The major was a man of more than
ordinary talent. He had once been president of a
bank in New Orleans, and was several times elected
to the State Legislature. In the war of 181 2 he
was a major under General Jackson. He possessed
a high reputation and much influence in that part
of the South where he was known, and was
regarded as a man of honor and respectability.
There were many excellent qualities in his char-
acter. He was a kind master, and would not allow
his overseers to whip his slaves cruelly, or other-
wise abuse them. He and his first wife — a short
time before her death — came tu the conclusion to
liberate all their slaves, and made out deeds of
emancipation for them. The Legislature of Miss-

492 REMINISCENCES.

issippi was then in session, and passed a law pro-
hibiting the liberation of slaves in that State.

Major Phillips and his .wife went to the county
seat to acknowledge the deeds and have them
recorded, but when they arrived in town they heard
of the law that had just been passed, and were
obliged to abandon their good intentions. Phillips
had the reputation of being kind to the poor, and
in several instances instituted lawsuits to secure
the rights of orphan children, who were being
defrauded of them, and succeeded in his benevo-
lent efforts, at a heavy expense to himself.

This information was given me by one of his
neighbors, who added that he thought no other
man could have succeeded in such cases, but the
major had great influence and was very benevolent.
After his first wife died, the major remained a wid-
ower for several years, then contracted a second
marriage, which, unfortunately, did not prove to
be a happy one. His wife was unfaithful to her
marriage vows, and he put her away, treating her,
however, with kindness and consideration.

The two entered into a legal contract of separa-
tion, in which they bound themselves to live unmar-
ried the rest of their lives. The major gave her
one of his cotton farms, besides other property,
and allowed her to retain her own servants. To
aid her in cultivating the plantation, he left thirteen
of his own slaves on it. He gave her no title to
these slaves, and it was understood that they should
only remain there until he called for them.

Soon after this separation, the major bought from

EMANCIPA TINO SLA VES. 4^3

a drove of slaves offered for sale in Yazoo City, a
young mulatto girl, who was recommended to be a
good house servant, and who proved to be a most
excellent one. A short time afterward the major
had a stroke of paralysis, and was rendered almost
entirely helpless for several months. He lost the
use of his right arm, and his power of speech was
for a time impaired. He never recovered the use
of his right arm, and ever afterward signed his
name with his left hand. During his illness, the
new house servant was very kind to him, and
nursed him tenderly through all his suffering. He
became much attached to her, and afterward kept
her as his wife. She became the mother of several
children. After his stroke of paralysis, Major
Phillips was not able to carry on the business of his
plantation, and he resolved to sell out and come
to the North, in order to educate his little yellow
children, to whom he was much attached, and have
them brought up in a free State. He had given
his profligate sons about seventy-five thousand dol-
lars and they had squandered most of it ; he now
wished to secure the rest of his estate to his young
children.

He sold his plantation, with more than one hun-
dred slaves on it, to a wealthy planter, binding the
purchaser not to separate families, and then moved
to Cincinnati, bringing with him his yellow chil-
dren, their mother, and a few favorite servants, as I
have before mentioned. The mulatto woman he
now professed to keep as a hired servant — but she

494 REMINISCENCES.

dressed richly, and her extravagant expenditures
showed that she was not a mere servant.

The major's house was large and well furnished.
He kept a span of horses and a fine carriage, and
he and his grandson often rode out to take the fresh
air. He employed an intelligent colored woman,
nearly white, to act as matron in his establishment,
and her daughter, who was a fine scholar, a gradu-
ate of Oberlin College, to teach his yellow children.
This young woman was a good pianist, and the
major bought a fine piano for her use in teaching
his grandson and elder children music.

On his arrival in Cincinnati, Major Phillips depos-
ited in the Trust Company Bank ten thousand dol-
lars, a similar amount in Ellis and Company's bank,
and a third ten thousand in Smead's bank, besides
paying eleven thousand dollars for his house. He
also loaned several thousand dollars to a merchant
who had managed to gain his confidence. This man
appeared to be a person of wealth ; he lived in a
good house, on which he gave Phillips a mortgage,
and sold Phillips other property which he professed
to own — receiving cash for it, and making the deeds
in the name of Phillips' children, as he requested.
The major was old, and not being able on account
of his failing strength to attend to his business, he
intrusted the care of it largely to his friend, the
merchant, whom he supposed to be perfectly hon-
est. Among other things, the major intrusted
Wilcox, the merchant, with making deposits for
him in bank, collecting checks, and drawing the
interest for him on his deposits in bank. At one

EMANClPATiSQ SLAVES. ^^

time, when Phillips was ill, he sent for Wilcox, and
told him that he wished his illegitimate children
and their mother to have the benefit of his money
in bank; he wished real estate to be purchased for
them, and gave other directions for the disposition
of his money, in case he should not live.

Wilcox agreed to attend to the business and
carry out his wishes, but told him that he must
sign some blank checks in order that he — Wilcox —
could draw the money. He said to the major: "if
you should not live I will fill them out, draw the
money and carry out your wishes, but if you re-
cover, 1 will return the checks to you, blank."

The old man was very feeble, and evidently not
in his right mind, and after signing one blank check
on the Trust Company Bank with much difBculty,
he seemed to lose his consciousness, and signed no
other — very fortunately for him, as it afterward
proved. After a tedious spell of sickness he recov-
ered his usual health, but had no recollection of
signing the blank check. When informed of it by
his matron, or housekeeper, he sent immediately
for Wilcox, to inquire about the check and have it
returned.

Wilcox said : "I destroyed it, when I found that
you were getting well."

Phillips now began to lose confidence in Wilcox,
iuid in another shrewd man who had managed to
gain his confidence so far as to be appointed his
agent to go to New Orleans and Yazoo City, and
other places in the South, to collect money for him.
This man had also transacted some business for him

496

REMINISCENCES.

here. Phillips believed that both of these men
were dishonest, and that they had deceived him.

One morning a messenger from the major came
to my store, and said that he requested that I
should come to see him, as he had some special
business about which he wished to talk with me
that morning.

He had lived in Cincinnati several years, but I
had had no acquaintance with him. I had fre-
quently seen him passing along the street in his car-
riage, but had never spoken to him. My knowledge
of him had been confined to what I heard from
others concerning him — that he had brought sqmc
slaves to Ohio and had liberated them, and that he
had some colored children — which was not very
reputable ir] this State, but I concluded to go and
see what special business he had with me — an entire
stranger. When I arrived at his house, I found the
old man quite feeble; he was just recovering from a
spell of sickness. He appeared to be very much
of a gentleman in his manners, and impressed me
favorably. He told me of his troubles — how he
had been deceived by dishonest men since he had
been paralyzed and not able to attend to his own
business. He said: ** I know you by reputation,
Mr. Coffin, but have never had the pleasure of a
personal acquaintance. I have several times been
advised to call on you and consult with you about
my business." He then went on to mention his
deposits in different banks, and said that he wished
me to draw the interest for him at the Trust Com-
pany Bank, where he had ten thousand dollars

EMANCIPA TING SLA VES. ^j

deposited. I a^eed to do this, and taking his
bank-book and check, went to the bank and told
the cashier that I wished to draw the interest due
on Major Phillips' deposit.

He said : ** Major Phillips has no funds here."

I spoke with surprise, and said: **He told me
that he had ten thousand dollars here.**

"He did have," replied the cashier, **but Wilcox
drew it all out, both principal and interest."

"When?" I asked.

He turned to his books, and said: "Last Au-
gust." It was now December.

When I returned and informed Major Phillips that
he had no money in the bank, that Wilcox had
taken it all out on his check, he seemed astounded,
and was veryangry. He sent for Wilcox immedi-
ately, and begged me to remain until he came,
which I did. Wilcox stepped in, but seemed to be
in great haste and would not be seated. He said
he had but a moment to spare, that he had left
some men at his store who had special business with
him, and he must return immediately. Phillips
inquired about the money.

\Vilcox acknowledged that he had drawn it, and
said, hurriedly, "I will make it all right, but can't
stop to talk now."

Then without giving any satisfaction, but promis-
ing to call again soon, he stepped out. I was sent
for again to meet Wilcox at Major Phillips' house,
but he failed to make his appearance, and failed in
all his promises to secure Phillips from loss.

Suit was entered against him, but his property
42

498 REMINISCENCES.

proved to be covered with mortgages and nothing
could be realized from it, to reimburse the major.
There were judgments of older date against the
property on which the major held a mortgage, and
the property which Wilcox had sold to the major
for his children was covered with mortgages.

Altogether, Major Phillips lost by him *>vcr
eighteen thousand dollars. After this the avcjor
seldom transacted any business without conf.alt:ng
me. He seemed destined to sustain heavy lo /,es.
A money panic came; several banks faileJ, and
stopped payment, among them Goodman iind Com-
pany's and Smead and Company's bauks, where
his money was deposited. He made a ecm^romise
with Goodman and Company, agreeing f.o take half
of the amount of his deposit, which t)*< y paid him.
Smead and Company secured him in iuli, by giving
him good notes for the principal, ard paying the
interest in gold.

By failures in New Orleans Phillips lost about
forty thousand dollars. Thus his means seemed to
be fast diminishing, and no properly was secured to
his yellow children and their mother. Knowing
that they were illegal heirs and could not inherit
their portion of his estate wheti he was gone, I
advised Phillips to buy real estate and have the title
made in their names. He agreed to do this, and
hearing of a valuable farm for sale in Shelby
County, Ohio — near Sidney, the county seat — he
visited that place and bought the farm, having the
title made to his children. He then sold his prop-
erty in Cincinnati and purchased a valuable house

EMANCIPATING SLAVES.

499

and lot in Sidney for his own residence, the title
of which he also secured to his colored children,
and another house and lot for their mother, the
mulatto woman, making the title to her. He then
removed to Sidney, and there spent the remainder
of his days. I had much to do in these transac-
tions, feeh'ng an interest in these helpless children,
and being anxious that they should be provided for
and their rights secured while the old man Jived.

Before Major Phillips moved to Sidney, he ex-
pressed a wish to get from Mississippi the thirteen
slaves whom he had left there with his wife, from
whom he had separated, and bring them to Ohio
and emancipate them. I encouraged him to act in
this matter at once, and to secure their liberty with-
out delay. I wrote letters from him to his attorney
at Yazoo City, who had charge of his business in
Mississippi, and whom Phillips represented to be a
worthy man and his particular friend. This attor-
ney had previously informed him that his former
wife had married a reckless young man, contrary
to law and to their contract, and that he could
legally take possession of the slaves.

It was advisable that the major should be there
in person to take possession of them, and he asked
me to go with him and assist him in bringing the
company to Ohio. He said he had many warm
friends at Yazoo and in the neighborhood of his
former home, but they were slaveholders, and
might oppose his bringing the slaves to a free State.

The major was quite feeble, and having lost the
use of his right arm from the effects of paralysis in

$00

REMINISCENCES.

that side, he had to have a servant to wait on him
and to dress and undress him, consequently he
could not have the oversight of the thirteen
slaves on their journey up the river, and he
wished me to see that they were properly cared
for on their way to Cincinnati. I agreed to accom-
pany him, and we made the journey down the river
together. I had some business in New Orleans
which I wished to attend to, and the major also
had some business matters there, which he wished
me to look after for him, as he expected to be
detained at Yazoo City a week or two, having other
business to engage his attention, besides getting
possession of his slaves. So we parted at Vicks-
burg; I went on to New Orleans and Phillips to
Yazoo City, where he was to await my return.

I had a power of attorney to enable me to transact
the major's business in New Orleans, and at other
points on the river. I expected to be detained two
or three weeks, and the major thought that he
could have his business transacted at Yazoo City
and his negroes in readiness by the time I returned.

At Vicksburg, several passengers were added
to our company, among whom was a gentleman
who lived on a cotton plantation near that place,
and had another plantation in Louisiana. He
owned a large number of slaves. Our list of pas«
sengers represented almost every class of society.
The boat was a large and popular steamer, and
passengers had come aboard at nearly all the prin-
cipal towns on the Mississippi River. They were
all strangers to me, and being nearly all Southern

EMAKCIPATINO SLAVES.

501

slaveholders were not congenial companions for me.
There was much drinking, card-playing and loud,
profane talking in the cabin, and I frequently seated
myself out on the guard-deck where it was more
pleasant, and took out my pocket Bible, my daily
companion. Here I could read, undisturbed, and
be away from the smell of whisky, and the sound
of the card-players' profane language.

Several passengers having often noticed me sit-
ting alone, reading my Bible, introduced themselves
to me, professing to be religionists. They said
they inferred from my dress and address, that I was
a Quaker, and they wished to make my acquaint-
ance, I told them that I was a member of the
religious Society of Friends, called Quakers — a
name given in derision by our persecutors in thq.
early rise of the society. The name Quaker did not
appear on our records. They asked many ques-
tions in regard to Friends. I endeavored to explain
our principles and testimonies, dwelling most on
our testimony against slavery. I told them that
a Friend could not own a slave anywhere, and
retain his right of membership in our society.
This generally brought on a discussion about
slavery, I discussed the subject miidly but can*
didly, and they treated me with much kindness and
respect ; often telling me, however, that if I lived
in the South, I would change my notions about
slavery.

I informed them that I had been brought 1
the South, in the midst of slavery; that .
acquainted with the system, and its <

lat if I lived
lotions about ^^

•rought iQrijj^^l
at 1 w^^^^H
s dck^^^^H

502 REMINISCENCES,

effects and influences. Quite a company had gath-
ered around to listen to the conversation, and
though I spoke freely of my abhorrence of slavery,
I u«ed mild and respectful language, and no one
appeared to be offended.

After this interview I was treated with marked
respect by several of the professors of religion who
had taken part in the conversation. They seemed
to want to know more about the Quakers, and made
many inquiries concerning them. I answered their
questions to the best of my ability, and endeavored
to explain Friends' testimonies on the subject of
war and spirituous liquors, our manner of worship,
our views in regard to outward forms and ceremo-
nies, types and shadows of Christ, the substance,
jitc. , and generally ended by referring to slavery as
contrary to the teachings of the gospel which they
professed to believe.

One day the cotton planter, who lived near
Vicksburg, came and took a seat by me, and com-
menced talking on the subject of slavery. He said
he was a member of the Methodist Church, and he
believed there was not much difference between the
Methodists and Quakers on doctrinal matters, ex-
cept on the subject of slavery; then he undeitook
to justify slavery by the Bible, referring to the Jew-
ish servitude, and quoting many passages from the
Old Testament in support of his views.

I heard him through patiently, and then replied
that Methodists differed on that subject. John
Wesley was an anti-slavery man, and some of the
Methodists in the North had strong an ti slavery

EMANCIPATINO SLAVES. 503

sentiments. I told him that the Bible was the best
anti-slavery book we had, and turning to it, I read
several passages to him, and asked him how he
could reconcile slavery with them.

He seemed confused and evaded direct answers
to my questions, saying **Ah, Brother Coffin, if
you lived in the South you would soon change your
opinions about slavery."

I told him that the longer I lived in the South
the stronger were my convictions of the sin of
slavery, and then referred to the separation of hus-
bands and wives, parents and children, and other
evils contrary to the teachings of the gospel.

The planter replied that he thought it was wrong
to separate husbands and wives. He owned a good
many slaves, but had tried to keep husband and
wife together. *'But sometimes," said he, **they
separate of their own accord. I have a man and
his wife who had lived together many years, but
some time ago they quarreled; the man became
jealous of his wife and refused to live with her. I
took them out into my orchard, and cut two bun-
dles of peach-tree sprouts, and made them wear
them out on each other. They both got severely
whipped, and it cured them ; they lived together
very peaceably after that. " He laughed heartily at
the recollection.

I said: ** Perhaps the woman was innocent. I
have known instances where the master or the
overseer was the guilty one. A slave woman has
no power to protect herself; according to your
law, her body belongs, not to herself, but to some

504 REMINISCENCES.

one else, and is subject to the will of the master or
overseer. It may be that thou hast punished the
innocent. This good book which I hold in my
hand says that we should do to others as we would
have others do to us. Now, suppose that thou and
thy wife should have some difficulty of the kind,
and I had it in my power to compel you to whip
each other in the same way — wouldst thou not
think that I was a cruel tyrant?"

He said again: *' Ah, Brother Coffin, if you were
to come down South and live there a few years, you
would soon get over these tender notions."

'*Yes," I replied, "and deny the teachings of
this precious book — a result to which slavery leads."

He replied: "I see that we do not agree on the
subject of slavery," and left me, but continued to
be friendly as long as we traveled together. He left
the boat, some distance above New Orleans, oppo-
site his plantation.

Before reaching New Orleans, I inquired of some
of the passengers with whom I had become ac-
quainted, whether there was a temperance house
of entertainment in the city, saying that if there
was, I wished to patronize it, as I intended to stay
a week or two. One gentleman said that there
was a respectable boarding-house, called the Farm-
er's Hotel, where there was no bar, a place. where
country merchants often stopped, and which was
kept by a worthy man. He gave me the num-
ber and street, and on my arrival in the city I went
directly to that house. Finding it to be a comfort-

TRIP TO NEW ORLEANS.

505

able house, I took my quarters there during my
stay in New Orleans.

I had c6rresponded with Judge Cage, the gentle-
man previously mentioned, who had sent a colored
boy to my care, some years before, and had in-
formed him of my prospect of being in New Orleans
some time that spring. He lived some distance from
the city, but desiring to see me in regard to the
boy, and other matters concerning the rest of his
brother's children, he requested me, as soon as I
arrived in the city, to call on his nephew, a lawyer,
whose address he gave me. This nephew, he said,
would inform him at once, and he would come to
the city to see me.

Accordingly, I called at the lawyer's office, and
gave him his uncle's — the judge's — letter to read.
He appeared pleased to see me, and treated me
with much cordiality and kindness. He said that
he had often heard me spoken of, and knew that his
uncle was very anxious to see me, and would come
to the city as soon as he learned of my arrival. He
then introduced me to several gentlemen, prominent
citizens of New Orleans, and kindly tendered his
services in looking after Major Phillips' business. I
availed myself of this offer, and received much aid
from him. Having to examine the records of the
court, in regard to some of Major Phillips' business,
he accompanied me to the Court-House, introduced
me to the clerk and other officers of the court. All
of these gentlemen treated me with kindness and
respect, so that I felt at home among them. This
state of things was quite different from that which

5o6 REMINISCENCES.

my friends in Cincinnati had pictured for me, when
they heard of my intended trip to New Orleans.
They had tried to discourage me from going down
the river with Major PhilHps, saying that it would
be at the risk of my life. I was extensively knou'n
in the South as a notorious abolitionist, and I might
be taken by a mob and shot or hanged to a tree —
as the slaveholders had often threatened to hang
abolitionists. I told these foreboders of danger
that I was not troubled with fears on that score — I
was a Southern man and understood Southern char-
acter. I had always traveled in the South, or in
any other section of the country where I had tangi-
ble business, without fear, and had always been
kindly treated. I never carried weapons, and never
visited saloons or theaters, but associated with the
better class of people, who would not allow a man
of peace to be maltreated. I told them that my
wife had not tried to discourage me from going to
New Orleans. This was no new advice ; I had often
been cautioned about going South, but when duty
or business called me, I never hesitated, and though
in all my travels in the Southern States, I had
spoken my mind freely on the subject of slavery, I
had endeavored to speak in the spirit of love and
kindness, and had never been molested.

As soon as Judge Cage received information of my
arrival at New Orleans, he came to see me. This
was our first meeting. I found the old man to be
noble looking, and a perfect gentleman in his man-
ners. He was a man of wealth and high standing
in that part of the country. He manifested a great

TRIP TO NEW ORLEANS.

S07

deal of interest in the boy he had sent to me some
years before, to be educated, and spoke of the rest
of the family of his unfortunate brother, as he called
him.

This brother had died some years before, leaving
a large family of children, who were slaves, accord-
ing to the law of Louisiana. They followed the
condition of their mother who, though nearly white,
and a perfect lady, was a slave. I have referred to
this case previously. The judge told me that his
brother, who had been his partner in business, left
a considerable estate when he died, which he
wished his children to have. As they were not
legal heirs in Louisiana, and could not inherit his
property there, he had intended to send them
to the North, have them educated, and buy prop-
erty for them there. He intended to have his sons
taught trades, and had sent the older ones to the
East before he died. The whole family came into
the judge's hands as property when their father
died, and he told me he intended to carry out the
wishes of his brother.

The younger girls were then in school in New
Orleans. The judge furnished me some means
to continue the boy, in my care, at school, and
requested me to put him to a trade when he came
out of school. After our business was finished,
the judge introduced me to several of his friends,
bankers and other prominent business men.

While in New Orleans I called at the banking-
house of old Jacob Barker, and introduced myself
to that well-known financier and remarkable man,

5o8

REMINISCEN CES.

having had some knowledge of his reputation and
history. He was formerly of Nantucket, but had
lived a number of years in the city of New York,
where he was engaged in an extensive trading and
shipping business — owning a fleet of trading vessels.

He accumulated an immense fortune, and during
the war of 1812 he loaned to the Government a
large sum of money. He met with some reverses,
and having in some of his trading operations taken
a large tract of land in Louisiana, to secure a debt,
he moved to that State and settled in New Orleans,
in the year 1834. He had lived there twenty-four
years, when I visited him.

On learning that my name was Coffin, and that I
was of Nantucket descent, he seemed much pleased
to meet me, and invited me to his house. He was
quite an old man, but full of life and activity, being
blessed with the preservation of his mental and
physical faculties to a greater degree than is
usually accorded to persons of his age. He was
still engaged in banking business. He owned a
number of slaves and had tried various experiences
with them — had settled some on his lands and had
several families living in houses that he owned in
the city — yet he professed to be opposed to the
system of of slavery. He had sent several of his
slaves to the East to be educated, and two to
Europe — one to England and one to Germany.
The law of Louisiana would not permit slaves
to be educated in that State. Barker took me to
visit several families of his slaves, who lived in com*

TRIP TO NEW ORLEAyS. 509

fortable houses provided with all the furniture- nec-
essary.

They all appeared glad to see the old man. He
told me that he had bought many of his slaves, out
of pity, and with a hope of bettering their condi-
tion.

Barker was thoroughly versed in the law, and
had rescued several slaves that were illegally held
in bondage, but notwithstanding his kindness and
humane endeavors, I could not sanction his holding
property in human beings, and advised him to
secure their liberty to them while he lived. I do not
know that he acted on my advice, but he and all
other slaveholders were relieved of responsibility
in the matter, a few years later, by the proclama-
tion of President Lincoln.

One morning Jacob Barker took me to the slave
pen, or auction room, where a large drove of slaves
were to be sold thit day. There were men and
women, of various shades, from the complexion of
ebony black with woolly hair, flat nose and thick
lips, to the fair complexion, with light wavy hair
and delicate features. Several handsome young
women were in the company, and these were
arranged on raised benches to show to the best
advantage.

The auction had not yet commenced, but a num-
ber of men who wished to purchase were examining
the stock. They selected such slaves as they
thought would suit them, and took them through a
close and critical examination — as I would a horse
which I wished to purchase. Their limbs, bodies,

5IO

REMINISCENCES.

and teeth were examined, and many questions were
asked in regard to the quality of the article under
notice. The purchasers gave utterance to many
profane and indecent expressions, plainly evincing
that their natures were rough and coarse and low —
that they had lost the higher and more refined sen-
timents of humanity. This company of slaves — I
was inforniied — were from Virginia and Kentucky,
and were considered quite valuable, as they all had
the appearance of being sound and healthy. Their
countenances were sad, and while they were under
examination, they looked with expressions of aver-
sion and dread upon those who wished to buy
them. Many of them, no doubt, had been sepa-
rated from wives or husbands or children, and were
now to be sold and taken to rice swamps or cotton
fields or cane plantations, there to toil beneath the
lash of a cruel task-master, until life left their suf-
fering bodies. When I gazed upon them and pic-
tured to myself the fate in store for them, I longed
to give them passage on the Underground Railroad
to Canada. I turned from the scene in sorrow and
disgust, before the bidding commenced, and made
my way back to my boarding-house. There I again
met my Methodist friend, the planter from Vicks-
burg, who had stopped at his plantation, some
distance up the river. After completing his busi-
ness there, he had come on to New Orleans, and
had taken quarters in the house where I was stay-
ing. He accosted me as an old acquaintance, call-
ing me "Brother Coffin," and seemed to be glad
to meet me again. He introduced me to a mer-

TRIP TO MEW ORLEANS,

chant from Arkansas — who was stopping in the
same house — as Brother Coffin, of Cincinnati, who
also was a merchant and produce dealer, but who
would not deal in negroes. He added that I was a
Quaker and opposed to slavery.

I replied: ''That is true — I have been opposed
to slavery from my childhood to the present day.
I was brought up in the South in the midst of
slavery, and when I was a little boy learned to
hate it. I saw a coffle of slaves driven past my
fatlier*s premises on their way to the South, to be
sold hke cattle in the public market, and my child-
ish sympathy and indignation were aroused. Just
such a scene have I witnessed in the slave market
in this city to-day.'*

I then described what I had seen, and told how
it operated on my feelings to see human beings —
the image of God — chattelized and sold like brutes,
or put upon the -auction block and sold as common
articles of merchandise, and added : ** I can not see
that any one who professes to be a Christian can
sanction such things."

My Methodist friend, addressing himself to the
Arkansas merchant, said: ''Brother Coffin and I
do not read the Bible alike. As we came down
the river I tried to convince him that the Bible
sanctioned slavery, but he does not appear to be
convinced. "

The merchant said: "The Quakers are good
honest folks; I like to deal with them. I go to
Philadelphia every spring to buy goods — have just
now returned from there, and come here to buy

512

REMINISCENCES.

sugar and molasses. I tell you, Mr. Compton,
they are good folks, but they have queer notions
about slavery. I don't agree with them about
that, but think they are nice people. I like to
hear them say 'thee' and *thou.' I can tell a
Quaker by his dress, and I always love to meet
one. The Quaker women, Mr. Compton, wore
the prettiest bonnets I ever saw — the young women
wore silk bonnets without any feathers or flowers
about them, and they looked so nice and plain. I
really think I would like to have a Quaker woman
for a wife. I have lost my wife since I moved to
Arkansas — I want another one, and think that a
Quaker woman would make a good mistress over
my negroes.'*

I said: ** Quaker women are generally abolition-
ists and opposed to slavery, and if one is worth
having for a wife, she would not marry a slave-
holder."

**0h, they would soon lose their notions about
slavery if they lived down here," the merchant
replied, then went on to say that he had formerly
lived in South Carolina, and had known some Yan-
kee girls who came down there to teach. They
were abolitionists in sentiment, but soon lost that
notion and married slaveholders and made first-rate
mistresses."

I became tired of his palaver and turned the con-
versation to business matters, then soon withdrew.
That afternoon I went into a large commission store
or warehouse, where I had some business. This
firm received large consignments of produce from

TRIP TO NEW ORLEANS.

S13

up the river, and also sold large quantities of cotton
for the planters. While I was in the office a
country planter, who appeared to be one of their
customers, came in. It seemed that he had been
at the slave auction, for as soon as he entered one
of the firm said:

"Well, Mr. S , did you buy all the women

you wanteds"

"No," he replied, *'I intended to buy five, but
I bought only three. I have five men who have no
wives, and I intended to purchase a wife apiece for

them, but the women sold so d d high, I bought

only three."

"You ought to have bought one apiece for your
men," rejoined the merchant.

"I intend to get two more," replied the planter;
"but I think I can do better nearer home."

The next day while I was alone in the sitting-
room of my boarding-house, reading, my friend the
Vicksburg planter, accompanied by his friend the
merchant, came in, and, seating themselves near me,
broached the subject of slavery again. They spoke
in a friendly, persuasive manner as if they wished
to convince me of my error of opinion, and repre-
sented the happy condition of the slaves, saying
that all their wants were provided for by their
masters — they were fed and clothed, doctored when
sick, and had no care assigned to them. "Yes," I
said; "they even have wives assigned to them by
their kind master, whether they want them or not.
It is a matter of profit to the master, and the slave
can have no choice in the matter ; he must take the

5 1 4 REMINISCENCES,

woman assigned to him." I then related what I had
heard the day before, of the planter buying wives
for his men, and went on to say: **No doubt these
five men, whom the planter had recently bought
out of a drove of slaves, from Virginia or Ken-
tucky, had been sold away from their wives and
children, whom they loved, and the women he
bought for them had probably been ibrced away
from husbands and children that were near and dear
to them. While their hearts were weighed down
with grief, they were brought to this market and
sold for wives for men whom they had never seen
or heard of, and for whom they could not possibly
have any affection. How can these men and
women fix- their affections upon each other under
such circumstances? But it is not a question of
choice with them ; they are doomed by their mas-
ter's will to live together in violation of their own
feelings and of God's command — to live in a state of
adultery, for marriages among slaves are not legal-
ized. To whom will this sin be charged ? " They
evaded the question but seemed to feel the force
of my argument. I continued to speak of the hor-
rors and evils of slavery, giving instances that had
come under my observation, while living in a slave
State, speaking of the separation of families, etc.
This phase of slavery they admitted to be wrongs
but still justified the system. Notwithstanding pui
discussion of the subject from different standpoints,
these two slaveholders manifested kind feeling
toward me as long as we continued together, fre-
quently introducing me to others as their Quakei

TRIP TO NEW ORLEANS.

friend. Thus, instead of being mobbed or hung, as
some of my friends had feared, I was treated with
kindness and respect by all with whom I came in
contact — although I often expressed my sentiments
freely on the subject of slavery.

After closing my business in New Orleans, I took
passage up the river, stopping at Baton Rouge,
Natches and Vicksburg, to attend to business for
Major Phillips. At Vicksburg I took boat up the
Yazoo River to Yazoo City, one hundred and
twenty miles distant, where I was to join Major
Phillips.

On my arrival in Yazoo City I went to the hotel
where I expected to meet the major, but to my
surprise found that he was gone, and learned that
the thirteen slaves he had come to take away were
in jail, awaiting a decision of the court. Major
Phillips had left a note with the hotel-keeper,
directing me to call on his attorney, who would
give me all necessary directions regarding his busi-
ness. I went immediately to the office of the
attorney, who received me very cordially and said
that he was glad I had arrived. He had been anx-
iously looking for me, hoping that I would come in
time to take possession of the major*s slaves- as soon
as the decision was made in court — which decision
he had no doubt would be in the major's favor.
He then gave me an account of what had occurred.

The major's former wife, as has already been
mentioned, had married again — a reckless young
man, whose object, no doubt, was to get pos-
session of her property. When the major arrived

5i6

REMINISCENCES,

in Yazoo, and sent out an order for the thirteen
slaves he had left on her plantation, she and the
young man she called her husband refused to give
them up, although they had no right or title to
them, and the young man swore that he would kill
any person who attempted to take them away.

Then Major Phillips got out a writ of replevin for
his property. This was placed in the hands of
the sheriff, who took a posse of men, went out to
the farm — several miles distant — and brought the
slaves into Yazoo City, and put them into jail for
safe-keeping.

The young man who claimed the slaves as the
property of himself and wife followed them into
town, and employed lawyers to defend his claim.
He was a desperate fellow, was in the habit of
drinking freely, and, on this occasion, raved about
the streets, displaying his pistols, and threatening
to shoot Major Phillips the moment he got sight
of him. Knowing the character of this desperate
fellow, and knowing also that the major was brave
and could not be intimidated, the major's friends
managed to keep him out of sight, for they were
sure somebody would be killed if the two came in
contact. Hearing that this young man had been
hunting for Phillips >all day, with intent to shoot
him, and that in the evening he had gathered a
posse of ruffians, they feared that he intended to
mob the house where Phillips was stopping and
kill the old man, so they contrived to get the major
away privately. He went to Vicksburg, and would
await my arrival there, with the negroes. He left

TRIP TO NEW ORLEANS. 517

an order for the sheriff to deliver the slaves to me.

The day after I arrived in Yazoo City, the case
of the right of property in the negroes was brought
before court. The lawyers employed by the young
man to oppose Phillips' claim picked a flaw in the
proceedings. The sheriff had neglected to do his
duty; the writ had not been served in due time,
according to law. It was returnable, according to
date, the day before it was served, therefore it
was. out. of date when served. This caused a
long debate between the lawyers. Major Phillips'
lawyers contended warmly against the quibble
raised by the other lawyers, but the judge decided
that the sheriff had neglected his duty and that the
proceedings were illegal. He then dismissed the
case.

Phillips was gone, and there was no one to renew
the writ, so the slaves were brought out of jail and
delivered to that wicked young man who claimed
to own them. They looked sad «ind disappointed ;
they had hoped to go to Ohio and be free, but
found themselves doomed to return to bondage.
The man mounted his horse, cracked his whip, and
started them back to the farm, as though he were
driving a drove of cattle. I felt sorry for them, and
regretted that it was not in my power to rescue
them from the hands of that tyrant. I now felt
anxious to leave Yazoo City, which was said to be
one of the worst sinks of iniquity in the State of
Mississippi, but there was no boat. The Vicksburg
packet had passed up the river that day and I must
await its return, the next morning, so I reluctantly

5i8

REMINISCENCES.

made up my mind to pass another nig^ht in the
midst of the drinking, swearing, and dissipation of
every kind that abounded.

That evening, while sitting on the sidewalk,
under the awning, talking to the hotel-keeper, two
colored ladies passed by us, dressed in rich silks,
and adorned with jewelry. I said to the hotel-
keeper: ** I suppose that those persons are free?"

**No," he replied, **they are both slaves, but are
kept as mistresses by two of our wealthy mer-
chants."

I asked: *'Is such a state of society permitted
here?"

He answered, '*Oh, yes; most of our merchants,
and other gentlemen of wealth and high standing,
keep such women. The practice is quite common
in our community."

He then spoke of a wealthy gentleman living a
few miles out of town, who had a wife and a family
of children. He owned several plantations, and on
one of them he kept a black wife, who had several
children.

'* And does his white wife know it?" I asked.

"Yes," was the reply, "but she can't help it,
and I don't think she makes any fuss about it
One of his colored sons is his carriage driver. That
gentleman stands fair in this community."

I spoke of the demoralizing effect of such exam«
pies upon the lower classes and upon the young.
I felt depressed in spirit when I reflected upon such
a state of society and the wickedness that abounded
in the South. It appeared to me that the cup of

TRIP TO NEW ORLRANS,

519

iniquity was about full ; that a dark cloud was hang-
ing over that land and must soon burst.

I was anxious to get away from that Sodom of
debauchery. It was known in Yazoo City that I
was there as the major's agent to take possession
of his slaves, if the court decided in his favor, and
conduct them to Cincinnati. I had been treated
with kindness and respect by the officers of the
court and all others with whom I came in contact,
but as the mob spirit had been manifested toward
Major Phillips, I knew not what the feeling of his
enemies might be toward his agent, or what demon-
stration might be made against me.

I was favored, however, to rest quietly and peace-
fully through the night, and the next morning I
took passage on the Vicksburg packet. There
were several passengers who had come aboard at
other points up the river, among them a Baptist
minister who introduced himself to me. He said he
always liked to meet a Quaker, and asked many
questions, which I answered briefly. He informed
me that he was a Baptist clergyman, and said that
he was always glad to meet with a professor of relig-
ion. I told him th^t I was also glad to meet with
such, but I had seen very little of the fruits of true
religion in that part of the country. He admitted
that the fruit was not very abundant. The boat
was delayed an hour or more after I went aboard,
taking on bales of cotton and other freight. The
deck-hands were all slaves, and the mate was hurry-
ing them and swearing at them at a fearful rate,

520

REMINISCENCES,

though they appeared to be doing all that they
could.

The preacher and I were sitting on the guard-
deck in front of the cabin, and I said to him that
the mate appeared to be a cruel tyrant.

He replied: **0h, those lazy niggers must be
hurried."

When the freight was nearly all aboard and a
number of passengers had come, one of the deck-
hands, a slave man who lived in that town, asked
the mate to let him run up to his house and get a
clean shirt, as the one he wore was torn and very
dirty. He said that he would be gone only a few
minutes, but the mate cursed him and refused to
let him go. Shortly afterward the mate went on the
boat with some of the hands to move some of the
freight, and while he was aboard, the slave man
started on a run to his house to get his shirt. The
mate saw him and hallooed to him to come back,
making use of dreadful oaths and threats. The
man replied that he would return in a few minutes
and ran on toward his home. The mate rushed
after him, calling on some of his acquaintances
among the passengers for assistance. They sprang
out and joined in the chase.

The slave reached the hut where his wife and
children lived, but before he had time to get bis
shirt, he was knocked down by the mate, who
had a club in his hand, and was bound. He was
brought back to the boat with his arms tied behind
him and a rope around his neck, while the blood
trickled over his body from a gash that had been

TRIP TO NEW ORLEANS, 521

cut in his head when he was knocked down. The
mate had picked up a piece of barrel hoop with
which he struck him at nearly every step, using at
the same time the most abusive language in reply
to the begging and crying of the poor slave. It
was, to me, a most.heart-sickening spectacle.

The mate was a younger man than the slave he
was beating so cruelly, but what of that? The
negro was a poor chattel whom no law protected ;
he had no rights that a white man was bound to
respect. The mate and his company dragged the
poor fellow aboard and tied him to a post on the
lower deck.

The freight and passengers were now all on board,
and the boat started down the river.

All seemed quiet for a mile or two, until we had
got fairly under headway, then I discovered that
the cabin passengers were all in a stir and going
down stairs to the lower deck. I asked the Baptist
minister what was going on, and he replied :

*'0h, nothing; only that nigger is to be whipped
and they are going down to see the fun. Will you
go down?'*

*'No, indeed," I replied; *'it is the mate that
ought to be punished, and I hope that he will not
be allowed to punish that poor man any more."

** He needs a good thrashing for his impudence,"
said the preacher; **he even tried to resist, and
they had to drag him on the boat."

He then fo'.lowed to see the fun, as he called it,
leaving me alone in the men's part of the cabin;
a few ladies remained in the ladies' apartment.

522

BEMINISGENCE&

The whipping soon commenced and continued for —
what seemed to me — a long tim^. I could hear the
blows but was too much agitated to count them,
for the cries of the poor slave pierced my ears and
stirred every feeling of humanity in my breast.
Toward the last his cries and moans became faint
and weak. I could not sit still, nor get out of hear-
ing of the dreadful sounds, and in my agitation I
walked tlie room, thinking: **How long, O Lord,
how long will such cruelty be permitted on the
earth?" Soon after the whipping was over, dinner
was announced, but my feelings were so wrought
upon that I could taste little. I retired to my room
and sought comfort in prayer. I had often been in
the South, but n^ver before had been so sensible of
the Egyptian darkness that overhung the land. I
was deeply impressed with the belief that the day
was not far distant when the fetters of slavery
would be broken.

Some time in the afternoon the boat stopped to
take on wood, and th^ deck-hands were hurried
ashore. The poor, tortured slave was driven out,
among them, and my heart bled afresh in sym-
pathy. His shirt was soaked with blood all over
his back, and he appeared weak and exhausted ;
it was with difficulty that he could carry a stick
of wood. I learned that his shirt had been
taken off before the whipping, and that his back
had been gashed and cut to pieces, then washed
with salt and water. The Baptist preacher was
a slaveholder, and justified the whipping; he said
that slaves must be made to obey, otherwise

TRIP TO NEW ORLEANS.

523

there was no managing them. I protested against
5uch inhumanity and cruelty, but felt that it was
most prudent to avoid entering into a discussion on
the subject of slavery. I felt no freedom in con-
versation with any one on board, and was truly
thankful when we reached Vicksburg, and I was
able to get out of hearing of the profane language
to which I had been obliged to listen on that boat.
Major Phillips was much chagrined with the way
matters had terminated in Yazoo City, and seemed
determined to renew his efforts to get possession
of his slaves and bring them to Ohio. We took
passage on a boat for Memphis, where we stopped
one day, as I had some business to attend to, and
then went aboard the Memphis and Cincinnati
packet. I reached home in safety, and I was thank-
ful that I was permitted to breathe again the free
air of Ohio. Major Phillips made further efforts,
through his attorneys at Yazoo City, to obtain his
slaves, but he grew more feeble, and died before it
was accomplished.

524 REMINISCENCES,

CHAPTER XV.

THE MOB SPIRIT IN CINCINNATI — DESTRUCTION OF THE
PHILANTHROPIST PRESS IN 1 836 — DEMONSTRATION
OF PRO-SLAVERY FEELING IN 184I — A DISGRACE-
FUL RIOT — THE SCANLAN MOB.

THE mobs caused by the pro-slavery element
in Cincinnati occurred before I moved to the
city, but the following accounts of them are com-
piled from authentic records and narratives.

I first refer to the demonstration of the mob
spirit, exhibited when the office of the Philanthro-
pist was broken into by a crowd of men, and the
press destroyed.

"The 'Philanthropist* was the organ of the Ohio Anti-Slavery
Society, and was edited by James G. Birney, a stanch abolitionist.
It was first published at New Richmond, twenty miles from Cin-
cinnati, but in April, 1836, after a few numbers had been issued,
the establishment wjis removed to Cincinnati.

"The pro-slavery spirit was strong in the city, but no demon-
stration was made against the paper at first. The subscription list
of the * Philanthropist ' numbered 1,700, and was rapidly increas-
ing at the time of the disturbance. Testimony was given almost
daily of the fair and manly and respectful conduct of it. From
the time of its removal to Cincinnati, there was not the least show
of molestation till the 12th of July. At midnight a band of men,
amounting to thirty or forty in number, including those who stood
as sentries at different points of the street, made an assault on the

CmCINNAtl MOBS.

525

premises of AcKilles Pugh, the printer, scaled a high wall by
which the lot was inclosed, and with the aid of a ladder and plank
mounted the roof of the press office. They then made their way
through a window on the roof into the room below — intimidated
into silence, by threats of bodily violence, a boy who was asleep
there — covered his head with the bed-clothes to prevent him from
seeing who were the perpetrators — tore up the paper that was
prepared for that week's number of the ' Philanthropist,' as well
as a larger part of the impression of an omitted number that had
not yet been mailed, destroyed the ink, dismantled the press and
carried away many of its principal parts. Whilst the depredation
was going on within doors, a watch of the confederates was sta-
tioned in the street, near the door of Achilles Pugh's dwelling-
house, to prevent him from giving the alarm. A remarkable
feature in the transaction is this — notwithstanding so long time
(nearly or quite two hours) was occupied in doing the mischief,
and that Pugh's premises lay on one of the principal streets of the
city, and that the noise and confusion made by the rioters were
loud enough to wake many of the neighbors (who were mysteri-
ously admonished to be quiet), still no interference was offered by
the night watch of the city to prevent the outrage.

" Although the names of the actors in this scene were not ascer-
tained sufficiently to authorize their publication, yet there is
reason to believe that some of the leaders were persons of wealth
and reputed respectability who would never, before this, have
been suspected of engaging in such a transaction. The work was
done, as it is supposed, by their dependents and hirelings. Next
morning, as soon as the damages could be repaired, the business
of the office went on as usual. Whatever the character and de-
signs of those committing the trespass were, it was plainly to be
discerned that there was a plan to intimidate those concerned in
the press."

This act of depredation seemed to be the expres-
sion of a state of popular feeling existing in the city.
Placards were posted on the corners of the streets
warning the abolitionists to beware, and several
of the city papers expressed the sanne sentiments,
though in more guarded terms. The excitement

526 REMINISCENCES.

appeared to increase, instead of diminishing, and
many threats of violence were made against the
editor and publisher of the PliilantltropisL

A public meeting was held at the Lower Market
House, and a series of re^lutions was adopted
expressing abhorrence of the principles advocated
by the abolitionists, and warning those connected
with the Pliilanthtopist to desist from publishing it
in the city of Cincinnati. These resolutions were
formally presented to the Executive Committee
of the Ohio Ant i- Slavery Society, and the mem-
bers composing that committee returned a formal
answer, stating their resolve to continue the pub-
lication of their paper, and giving their reasons.

This answer appeared in the city papers on the
morning of July 30. The following account from
the Cincinnati Gazette relates the disturbances that
took place that night.

"DESTRUCTION OF PROPERTY.

"On Saturday night, July 30, very soon after dark, a con-
course of citizens assembled at the corner of Main and Seventh
Streets, in this city, and, upon a short consultation, broke open
the printing-office of the * Philanthropist,' the abolition paper, scat-
tered the type into the streets, tore down the presses and com-
pletely dismantled the office. It was owned by Achilles Pugh, a
peaceable and orderly printer, who published the 'Philanthropist'
for the Anti-Slavery Society of Ohio. From the printing-office the
crowd went to the house of Achilles Pugh, where they supposed
there were other printing materials, but found none, nor offered
any violence. Then to the Messrs. Donaldsons, where ladies only
were at home. The residence of Mr. Bimey, the editor, was
then visited ; no person was at home but a youth, upon whose
explanations the house was left undisturbed. A shout was raised
for Dr. Colby's, and the concourse returned to Main Street,
proposing to pile up the contents of the office in the street, and

CtSClSSATI MOBS.

527

BMke a bonfire of them. Joseph Graham mounted the pile and
advised against burning it, lest the houses near might take fire.
A portion of the press was then dragged down Main Street,
broken up and thrown into the river. The * Exchange ' was then
visited and refreshments taken; after which the concourse again
went up Main Street to about opposite the * Gazette ' office. Some
suggestions were hinted that it should be demolished, but the hint
was overruled. An attack was then made on the residences of
some blacks in Church Alley; two guns were fired upon the
&»sailants, and they recoiled. It was supposed that one man was
wounded, but that was not the case. It was some time before a
rally could be again made, several voices declaring that they did
not wish to endanger themselves. A second attack was made, the
houses were found empty, and their interior contents destroyed.
It was now about midnight, when the party parading down Main
Street was addressed by the Mayor, who had been a silent specta-
tor of the destruction of the printing-office. He told them that
they might a9 well now disperse. A dispersion to a considerable
extent followed ; but various other disturbances took place
through the night, of the magnitude and particulars of which
we are not advised."

There were some demonstrations of the public
feeling next day — Sabbath — but no serious disturb-
ances.

Several mobs collected on Monday night, but
were prevented from violence and dispersed by the
city authorities, and the volunteer companies acting
under their orders.

The excitement died out without any more
serious demonstrations. The publication of the
Philanthropist was afterward resumed and contin-
ued for many years.

THE MOB OF 1 84 1.

The next outbreak of violence, which disgraced
the city of Cincinnati, occurred in the early part of

528 REMINISCEHCES.

of September, 1841. The Dai/y Gazette, of Septem-
ber 6, gives the following account of it :

"This city has been in a most alarming condition for several
days, and from about eight o*clock on Friday evening until
about three o'clock yesterday morning, almost entirely at the
mercy of a lawless mob, ranging in number from two to fifteen
hundred.

** On Tuesday evening last, a quarrel took place near the comer
of Sixth Street and Broadway, between a party of Irishmen and
some negroes, in which blows were exchanged and other weapons,
if not fire-arms, used. Some two or three of each party were
wounded.

** On Wednesday night the quarrel was renewed in some way,
and some time after midnight a party of excited men, armed with
clubs, etc., attacked a house occupied as a negro boarding-house,
on McAlister Street, demanding the surrender of a negro who
they said had fled into the house and was there secreted, and
uttering the most violent threats against the house and the
negroes in general. Several of the adjoining houses were occn-
pied by negro families, including women and children. The
violence increased and was resisted by those in or about the
houses. An engagement took place, several were wounded on
each side, and some say guns and pistols were discharged from the
house. The interference of some gentlemen in the neighborhood
succeeded in restoring quiet, after about three-quarters of an hour,
when a watchman appeared. But it is singular that this violent
street disturbance elicited no report to the police, no arrest-
indeed, that the Mayor remained ignorant of the affair until late
in the day, when he casually heard of it.

**On Thursday night another rencounter took place in the
neighborhood of the Lower Market, between some young men
and boys, and some negroes, in which one or two boys were badly
wounded, as it was supposed, with knives.

" On Friday, during the day there was considerable excitement,
threats of violence and lawless outbreaking w^ere indicated in
various ways, and came to the ears of the police and of the
negroes. Attacks were expected upon the negro residences in
McAlister, Sixth and New Streets. The negroes armed them-
selves, and the knowledge of this increased the excitement

CINCINNA TI MOBS. 5 29

But we do not know that it produced any known measure of
precaution on the part of the police to prefierve the peace of the
city.

** Before eight o'clock in the evening, a mob, the principal
organization of which, we understand, was arranged in Kentucky,
openly assembled in Fifth Street Market, unmolested by the police
or citizens. The number of this mob, as they deliberately marched
from their rendezvous toward Broadway and Sixth Street, is
variously estimated, but the number increased as they progressed.
They were armed with clubs, stones, etc. Reaching the scene
of operations, with shouts and blasphemous imprecations, they
attacked a negro confectionary on Broadway, and demolished the
doors and windows. This attracted an immense crowd. Savage
yells were uttered to encourage the mob onward to the general
attack upon the negroes. About this time the Mayor came up
and addressed the people, exhorting them to peace and obedience
to law. The savage yell was instantly raised, * Down with him.*
'Run him off,' was shouted, intermixed with horrid imprecations,
and Exhortations to the mob to move onward.

"They advanced to the attack with stones, etc., and were
i^peatedly fired upon by the negroes. The mob scattered, but
immediately rallied again, and again were in like manner,
repulsed. Men were wounded on both sides and carried off, and
many reported dead. The negroes rallied several times, advanced
upon the crowd, and most unjustifiably fired down the street into
it, causing a great rush in various directions. These things were
repeated until past one o'clock, when a party procured an iron
six-pounder from near the river, loaded it with boiler punchings,
etc., and hauled it to the ground, against the exhortations of the
Mayor and others. It was posted on Broadway, and pointed
down Sixth Street. The yells continued, but there was a partial
cessation of firing. Many of the negroes had fled to the hills.
The attack upon houses was recommenced with firing of guns
on both sides, which continued during most of the night, and
exaggerated rumors of the killed and wounded filled the streets.
The cannon was discharged several times. About two o'clock a
portion of the military, upon the call of the Mayor, proceeded to
the scene of disorder and succeeded in keeping the mob at bay.
In the morning, and throughout the day, several blocks, including
the battle-ground, were surrounded by sentinels, and kept undef

530 REMINISCENCES.

martial law — keeping within the negroes there, and adding to
them such as were brought during the day, seized without partic-
ular charge, by parties who scoured the city, assuming the author-
ity of the law.

** A meeting of citizens was held at the Court-Housc, on Satur-
day morning, at which the Mayor presided. This meeting was
addressed by the Mayor, Judge Reed, Mr. Piatt, Sheriff Avery
and Mr. Hart. They resolved to observe the law, to discounle-
nance mobs, invoked the aid of the authorities to stay the vio-
lence, and pledged themselves to exertion in aid of the civil
authority to arrest and place within reach of the law the negroes
who wounded the two white boys on Columbia Street; that the
Township Trustees enforce the law of 1807, requiring security of
negroes, pledging themselves to enforce it to the very letter, until
the city is relieved of the effect of 'modern abolitionism,' assuring
our * Southern brethren' to carry out that act in good faith -and
to deliver • up, under the law of Congress, forthwith' every negro
who escapes from his master and comes within our borders. They
requested the Mayor, Sheriff, and the civil authorities to proceed
at once to the dwellings of the blacks and disarm them of all
offensive weapons — and recommended search for offenders against
the laws, immediate legal proceedings against them, and an effi-
cient patrol to protect the persons and property of the blacks,
during the existence of the present excitement, and until they
give the bonds required by the act of 1807, or leave the city.
They requested the parents and guardians of boys to keep them
at home, or away from the scene of excitement. They resolved,
*That we view with abhorrence the proceedings of the abolition-
ists in our city, and that we repudiate their doctrines, and believe
it to be the duty of every good citizen, by all lawful means, to
discountenance ever man who lends them his assistance.* These
resolutions adopted unanimously, and signed by the Mayor. They
were afterward printed in handbills and posted in all parts of the
city.

"The City Council also held a special session and passed reso-
lutions invoking the united exertions of orderly citizens to the
aid of the authorities to put down the violent commotion existing
in the city, to preserve order and vindicate the law against the
violence of an excited and lawless mob— requesting all officers,
watchmen and firemen to unite for the arrest of the rioters aad

CINOINKATI MOBS.

S3I

violators of law, and the Marshal to increase his deputies to any
number required — not exceeding five hundred — to preserve life and
protect property ; requiring the Mayor and Marshal to call in the
aid of the county militia to preserve order, and the captain of the
watch to increase his force. These proceedings were posted in
handbills. Intense excitement continued during the day, the
mob and the leaders boldly occupying the streets without arrest,
or any effort to arrest them, so far as we have heard.

**The negroes held a meeting in a church, and respectfully
assured the Mayor and the citizens that they would use every
effort to conduct themselves as orderly, industrious and peace-
able people — to suppress any imprudent conduct among their
population, and to ferret out all violation of order and law.
They deprecated the practice of carrying about their persons any
dangerous weapons, pledged themselves not to carry or keep any
about their persons or houses, and expressed their readiness to
surrender all such. They expressed their readiness to conform to
the law of 1807, and give bond, or to leave within a specified
time, and tendered their thanks to the Mayor, watch officers and
gentlemen of the city, for the efforts made to save their property,
their lives, their wives and their children.

"At three o'clock in the afternoon the Mayor, Sheriff, Marshal,
and a portion of the police proceeded to the battle-ground and
there, under the protection of the military, though in the pres-
ence of the mob, and so far controlled by them as to prevent the
taking away of any negroes, upon their complying with the law,
several negroes gave bond, and obtained the permission of the
authorities to go away with sureties —some of our most respect-
able citizens — but were headed even within the military sentinels,
and compelled to return within the ground. It was resolved to
embody the male negroes and march them to jail for security,
under the protection of the military and civil authorities.

'* From two hundred and fifty to three hundred negroes, includ-
ing sound and maimed, were with some difficulty marched off to
jail, surrounded by the military and officers; and a dense mass
of men, women and boys, confounding all distinction between the
orderly and disorderly, accompanied with deafening yells.

"They were safely lodged, and still remained in prison,
separated from their families. The crowd was in that way
dispersed. Some then supposed that we should have a quiet

532

REMINISCENCES.

night, but others, more observing, discovered that the law-
less mob had determined on farther violence, to be enacted
immediately after nightfall. Citizens disposed to aid the &athor*
ities were invited to assemble, enroll themselves, and organize
for action. The military were ordered out, firemen were out,
clothed with authority as a police band. About eighty citi<
zens enrolled themselves as assistants of the Marshal, and acted
during the night under his direction, in connection with Judge
Torrence, who was selected by themselves. A portion of this
force was mounted, and a troop of horse and several compa-
nies of volunteer infantry continued on duty till near midnight.
Some were then discharged to sleep upon their arms; others
remained on duty till morning, guarding the jail, etc. As was
anticipated, the mob, efficiently oiganized, early commenced
operations, dividing their force and making attacks at different
points, thus distracting the attention of the police. The first
successful onset was made upon the printing establishment of
the 'Philanthropist.' They succeeded in entering the establish'
ment, breaking up the press, and running with it, amid savage
yells, down through Main Street to the river, into which it was
thrown.

** The military appeared in the alley near the office, interrupt-
ing the mob for a short time. They escaped through by-ways,
and, when the military retired, returned to their work of destruc-
tion in the office, which they completed. Several houses were
broken open in different parts of the city, occupied by negroes,
and the windows, doors and furniture totally destroyed. From this
work they were driven by the police, and finally dispersed from
mere exhaustion, whether to remain quiet or to recruit their
strength for renewed assault, we may know before this paper is
circulated.

** Mortifying as is the declaration, trutii requires us to acknowl-
edge, that our city has been in a complete anarchy, controlled
mostly by a lawless and violent mob for twenty-four hours, tramp*
ling all law and authority under foot. We feel this degradation
deeply— but so it is. It is impossible to learn the precise number
killed and wounded, either of whites or among the negroes; prob-
ably several were killed on both sides, and some twenty or thirty
variously wounded, though but few dangerously.

** The authorities succeeded in arresting and securing about

CINCINNATI MOBS.

533

forty of the mob, who are now in prison. Others were arrested,
but were rescued or made their escape otherwise.

«« Monday morning, three A. M. -No disturbances have occurred
in our city during the night. The different military companies
were stationed at various points through the city. Captain Tay-
lor's troop of horse, together with a large number of citizens,
formed themselves into companies of about thirty each, and kept
up a patrol until about two o'clock, when the citizens generally
retired, leaving the military on duty.

" Governor Corwin issued a proclamation on the 5th of Septem-
ber (the day on which the mob demonstrated), calling upon and
commanding all people who might be in the city, to yield prompt
obedience to the civil authorities engaged in the preservation of
the peace, and enjoining upon all persons to abstain from all
unlawful assemblages, or any act of violence against the persons
or property of the citizens.

** There was no further disturbance ; and thus ended the dis-
graceful outbreak."

Some particulars not given in this account may be
mentioned here. While these demonstrations were
in progress it was reported that a number of negroes
had fled to Walnut Hills, and were concealed at
Lane Seminary. The mob expressed their intention
to ferret them out, and breathed many threats
against those who protected them. The students
of Lane Seminary heard of this, and began prepara-
tions for defense. They formed a military company,
under command of E. M. Gregory, and collected all
the available weapons in the neighborhood. Gov-
ernor Corwin, hearing of their organization, sent
them a supply of fire-arms from the State Arsenal.
The mob mustered a company two hundred strong,
and started to make an attack on the **d d abo-
lition hole," as they called the seminary, but hear-
ing of the warlike preparation of the students, they

534 REMINISCENCES.

concluded that prudence was the better part of
valor, and relinquished their purpose.

THE SCANLAN MOB.

Slaveholders from the South often brought their
families to the North to spend the summer months,
and the vicinity of this city was a favorite stopping
place. In the summer of 1843, ^ ^*^^ from New
Orleans, named Scanlan, was spending the time
here with his brother-in-law, whose name was Haw-
kins. He had with him his family, part of which
consisted of a slave girl, nine or ten years old,
named Lavinia. The mother of this girl, who was
a slave in New Orleans, knew that, according to the
law of Ohio, a slave brought to this State by his
master was free as soon as he touched. the soil; and
she vvanted her daughter to profit by this law. She
told Lavinia to make her escape while in Ohio, and
go to some of the Northern people who would pro-
tect her, adding that she would whip her severely
if she allowed the opportunity to pass and came
back to New Orleans with her master. She said
that she intended to escape herself some time, and
in order to identify her daughter, if the two should
meet, years afterward, in Canada, the mother put
around Lavinia*s neck a small gold chain, with a
pendant ornament, which she superstitiously re-
garded as a charm, and gave her other little keep-
sakes. Lavinia remembered all her mother's advice
when she reached Ohio, and looked wistfully into
the face of every stranger, longing to find some one
who ** looked kind," to whom she could apply for

CINCINNATI MOBS.

535

help in makings her escape. She soon made the
acquaintance of a colored man and woman who
lived near the place where the Scanlans were stay-
ing, and to them she confided her hopes and fears,
and asked their assistance. They promised to aid
her, and one night they dressed her in a suit of
clothes belonging to one of their sons, and took her
to the house of Samuel Reynolds, a Quaker, who
lived at the head of what was then called Spring
Street, near the foot of Sycamore hill.

Here she was concealed and remained several
days undiscovered, though Scanlan had offered a
reward and a strict search was made.

The wife of Edward Harwood, whose residence
was near Reynolds*, called one day, and being in-
terested in Lavinia took her home with her. All
the members of Harwood's family, including, then,
John H. Coleman and his wife, were strong aboli-
tionists, and they were ready, in case of danger, to
defend the slave girl to the last. The rest of the
story shall be told in the graphic language of Mrs.
Elizabeth Coleman, who was a participant in the
scenes that followed :

**We kept Lavinia closely in the house all day,
but at dusk we let her out to play in the yard, for
exercise and fresh air. There was a steep grade of
perhaps twenty feet in front of the house, so that
the street below was entirely hidden from our view,
and we could not see any one approaching until he
reached the top of the stone steps that led 'up from
below. On the sides and in the rear, however, the
house cculd be easily approached, as the land was

536 REMINISCENCES.

high and sloped directly to the back part of the
house. At night when the lamps were lit, any per-
son concealed outside could see directly into the
house.

"One night as Lavinia was playing in the yard,
the big watch dog, Swamp, kept growling as though
there were intruders on the premises. Mr. Har-
wood and Mr. Coleman went out several times to
examine, but could see no one. They .«?aid : * That
child had better come in, there may be parties
about watching for her.' So I put my head out of
the window and called, *Come in, Lavinia, some
one might see you.' She came in, and we heard no
more growling from Swamp that night.

'*The next day she was not very well, and at
dinner time was lying asleep up stairs, so we did
not call her to come down. Shortly after dinner,
when we were sitting in the front room with the
doors and windows open, a man suddenly appeared
at the top of the steps leading from the street, and
without any ceremony walked right into the house,
Mr. Harwood and Mr. Coleman had gone down
town, and there was no one there but Mrs. Har-
wood, myself, and a gentleman who was an invalid.
We thought at once that the intruder was Scan-
Ian, looking for Lavinia. He looked round hur-
riedly, and exclaimed in an excited manner:
* Where's my child ? I want my child 1 '

"I replied: * Your child is not here.*

"He turned toward me and exclaimed 'She is
here, my slave girl Lavinia. I saw her last night,
and if it hadn't been for you and that cursed dog I

CINCINNATI MOBS.

537

would have got her. I had my hand almost on her
shoulder when you called her in. Where is she ? I
want her ! ' The flight of stairs descended into the
sitting-room, and the stair-door stood open. He
went to it, saying, * If my child hears my voice she
will answer,* and he called, *Lavinia, Lavinia!* I
trembled lest she should wake suddenly out of sleep
and answer him, but, as soon as she recognized his
voice, she crawled between the beds and hid her-
self.

**Mr. Scanlan raved round the room awhile,
threatening divers things if his property was not
delivered to him, and finally said: ' I'm going down
town to get a warrant to search this house, and I'll
set a guard to watch you while I am gone ;' then
stepping to the door, he said : * Mr. Hawkins, come
in here,* and a man whom we had not seen — Mr.
Scanlan*s brother-in-law, we afterward learned —
appeared at the top of the steps and came into the
house. 'Just guard this family while I am gone,'
and Mr. Hawkins took a seat in the room, looking
embarrassed and ill at ease, while Mr. Scanlan
started down town. Half way down the hill he
recognized Mr. Harwood coming up in his buggy,
and, beckoning to him to stop, he informed him in
a few words that he was in search of his slave whom
he knew to be then concealed at his (Mr. H.*s)
house ; that he had left a guard there to await his
return, and was going for a search warrant, thinking
to intimidate Mr. Harwood, and force him to give
up the girl. Mr. Harwood replied, with some
warmth, that he would have no one guarding his

538

REMINISCENCES.

house, and, leaving Scanlan, he drove on quickly,
and, reaching the house, accosted Mr. Hawkins: *!
understand that you are here to guard my family;
we need no such service and can dispense with your
presence ; leave my house immediately, or I will
pitch you over that bank. Leave, sir!' • Mr. Haw-
kins stood not upon the order of his going, but
went.

** Scanlan in the meantime had proceeded on his
way down town, breathing out threatenings and
slaughter, and going to the ** Alhambra,'* then a
popular saloon on Third Street, gathered a crowd
of roughs around him, gave orders for an open
bar, and, after dispensing liquor freely to all, made
a speech to them relating his grievances. He then
invited them all up to the hill that evening, to help
him obtain his slave and to see the *fun.' A great
many promised to support him, and the excitement
ran high, as they exchanged threats against the
nigger thieves.

**Mr. Harwood went down town to alarm our
friends, telling us to allow no one to enter whom
we did not know.

**A strong, trusty person — a stone-cutter in the
marble yard of Mr. Coleman — started up to the
house as soon as he heard of the state of affairs,
and on the way noticed numerous small flags stuck
up at intervals to * blaze the way* for the mob.
He threw them down wherever he found them. By
the time Mr. Coleman arrived, a crowd of people
had collected in the street below, and he saw
among them an officer who was notorious foi his

CINCINNA TI MOBS. 5 39

sympathy with slave-hunters, and his willingness to
send fugitives back to bondage for the sake of a
few dollars. Mr. Coleman went up to him, said,
• How do you do, O'Neal?* and shook hands with
him, then said, * I understand that you have a war-
rant to search my house.' ' Is this your house, Mr.
Coleman?* 'Yes, sir, I live here and claim this as
my home, and wish to see what kind of a paper
authorizes you to search my house.* He knew that
no warrant to search the house could be legally
issued, for only in case of murder or stolen prop-
erty could a house be searched, and the law of Ohio
did not recognize human beings as property. * Oh,
there's some mistake, Mr. Coleman, I did not un-
derstand the nature of the case,' said the other,
apologetically. 'Let me see the paper, sir.* 'No,'
said the other, backing away, 'it is of no conse-
quence,' and went off down town, looking cowed
and ashamed.

"Mr. Harwood returned with some friends, and
saw an increasing throng in the street. No one had
yet tried to enter the house, though several had
started up the steps. Mr. Harwood stood at the
top, with his big dog by his side, and when any one
started up the steps, he said, 'Watch him, Swamp,'
and the brute growled and showed his teeth till
those below returned.

"Mr. Coleman, premising that there would be
trouble that night, went, accompanied by young
Alf. Burnet, to a Dutch armory near by, and pro-
cured powder, shot, and an arm-load of guns. The
weapons were rusty with disuse and had to be

540 REMINISCENCES,

cleaned before they could be used. We took up
the carpets in the parlor, and gave that room to the
men for their preparations. Mrs. Harwood and I
bundled our valuables — silver, papers, etc. — ^and
sent them to a neighbor's. All this time the crowd
grew larger, and there were howls and oaths and
cries to bring out the girl. One ruffian kept ex-
claiming: *If my property was in there, I'd have
it or I'd have those villains' heart's blood.*

**Alf. Burnet went and came frequently to and
from town, and reported matters from there. He
said Scanlan was still making speeches, the liquor
was flowing freely at the saloons, and new recruits
were joining the mob, though some said, 'They
have shooting irons up there, and we are not going.'
Earlier in the day Mr. Coleman had apphed to the
Sheriff to protect his house, but received the reply :
* If you make yourself obnoxious to your neighbors
you must suffer the consequences.* Toward even-
ing the street was packed with a howling mob, but
they had no leader, had no interests at stake, and
were too cowardly to make any attempt that would
place themselves in danger, for they knew that
those in the house were armed, and that they were
determined.

** Between thirty and forty abolitionists, about all
there were in the city at that time, had gathered to
our aid, and a council was held as to what should
be done with the girl. It was decided that she must
be taken away from the house. The suit of boy's
clothes that she wore when she escaped were put
on her, and Mr. Harwood, Mr. Coleman, Albert

CJNCINNA TI MOBS. 541

Lewis, and others, conducted her out of the house
without arousing the suspicion of the mob. She
was taken to the house of Mr. Emery, at the foot
of the hill. The mob remained some time longer,
without, however, making any attempt to enter the
house, overawed by the preparations for defense
they saw. An armed guard marched at the top of
the steps, and strangely enough the crowd never
thought of obtaining access to the building by any
other way.

**The mob afterward went to the house of Mr.
Burnet, Alf Burnetts father, on Fifth Street, and
stoned it, breaking in all the windows and damaging
the whole front of the building. Mr. Burnet col-
lected all the stones in barrels, and kept them for
years as specimens of pro-slavery arguments.

**Scanlan detailed his grievances in notices printed
in the city papers, but could not, forcibly or other-
wise, gain possession of his slave girl, and, hearing
that he was to be arrested for trespassing, left sud-
denly and returned to New Orleans.

"Lavinia remained at Mr. Emery's a week or
two, then, dressed in the suit of boy's clothes she
had worn before, she followed some boys who drove
cows out of town to pasture on the hills, and was
conducted by them to the house of a trusty friend.
She was afterward sent to Oberlin, where she re-
ceived a good education, and proving to be a
woman of good ability and much intelligence, she
was sent as missionary to Medina mission in Africa.
A few years since she came back on a visit to see
her friends, and, while in Cincinnati, she was taken
sick and died."

542

REMINISCENCES.

CHAPTER XVI.

TRIALS UNDER THE FUGITIVE SLAVE LAW — THE WASH.
MCQUERRY CASE — THE SERVICES OF JOHN JOL-
LIFFE — ESCAPE FROM A COURT-ROOM — ^THE RO-
SETTA CASE — MARGARET GARNER — THE STORY OF
A HAT.

THE first fugitive case that occurred in this
district, after the passage of the fugitive slave
law of 1850, was tried before Judge McLean, of the
Supreme Court of the United States, on the i6th
and 17th of August, 1853. The following account
is culled from reports of the trial :

"The fugitive, Wash. McQuerry, was a bright mulatto, about
twenty-eight years old, well-built and intelligent looking. Four
years befor'e he and three other slave *boys,* had escaped from
their master, Henry Miller, who lived about fifty miles back of
Louisville, in Washington County, Kentucky. Their flight was
soon discovered, and they were closely pursued. One of the four was
captured in Louisville, but afterward made his escape ; the other
three, including Wash., crossed the Ohio River just above Louis-
ville, in the night. They found a skiff tied to a raft and took it;
there were no oars, but they managed to row across with pieces of
bark. After getting into Ohio, they traveled by night and lay
concealed during the day. One of them had two or three dollars
with him, which was used to purchase food. They would watch
until the men had left the farm-houses for their daily work, then
go in and buy something to eat from the women. Whethef

A FaOITIVE SLA VE LA W CASE.

543

Wash.s' companions went on to Canada or settled in this State 1
do not know ; Wash, himself, thinking, no doubt, that he would
be safe here, settled near Troy, Miami County, Ohio. He was
industrious and upright, and was well respected in the neighbor-
hood. He married a free colored woman and became the father
of one or two children. His prospects for the future were
bright. He had escaped from the thralldom and curse of slavery,
and, in the enjoyment of those * inalienable rights,* liberty and
the pursuit of happiness, he felt the dignity of manhood — felt
that he was no longer on a level with the brutes. He was a
peaceable and law-abiding citizen, and in every way proved him-
self worthy of the boon of freedom. But this state of tranquillity
aiid happiness did not last long ; Wash, was destined to be torn'
from his family and dragged back to slavery, and that not surrep-
titiously, but with the sanction of the law of the United States,
as pronounced by one of its highest officers. A white man
named John Russell, living not far from Piqua, learned in some
way that McQuerry was a fugitive, and having also ascertained
the name and locality of his master, basely, and perhaps actuated
by a desire for gain, wrote to Miller, informing him where his
slave could be found. Miller had offered a reward of one hun-
dred dollars each for the four slaves when they escaped, and
Russell no doubt expected to receive this amount as his reward
for betraying McQuerry to his master.

** As soon as he received this information, Miller, accompanied
by four other Kentuckians, came to Miami County, and, having
engaged the services of an officer, sought McQuerry, who was at
work on a canal boat, arrested him and conveyed him to Dayton,
where he was placed in the hands of Deputy United States
Marshal Trader. A writ of habeas corpus was taken out against
the sheriff of Montgomery County, but the judge of the Probate
Court, before whom the case was brought, decided that the col-
ored man was in the custody of the United States Deputy Marshal.
This officer had McQuerry ironed and brought him to this city.

*• The party took quarters at the Gait House, about which a
large crowd of colored people soon collected, having heard of the
case of the fugitive. They made some demonstrations of their
sympathy with McQuerry, but were held in check by the police
force. At two o'clock in the morning an application was made
by Peter H. Clark, a prominent colored man of this city, to Judge

544 REMINISCENCES,

McLean for a writ of habeas corpus requiring those persons who
held McQuerry in custody to bring them before him — the judge —
and show cause why they deprived him of his liberty. This appli-
cation was carried to the residence of Judge McLean, in Clifton,
some three miles from the city, and he granted the writ, and
appointed ten o'clock A. M. for the hearing of the same. In the
meantime Miller, the claimant of the fugitive, made application to
S. S. Carpenter, United States Commissioner, who appointed
seven o'clock A. M. for a hearing. The fugitive was brought
before the Commissioner in irons, which he humanely ordered to
be taken off. At that hearing the Commissioner postponed
further proceedings until two P. M. at the Criminal Court-room,
and ordered the United States Marshal to receive the fugitive
into his custody and safely keep him until discharged by due
course of law.

«« At ten o'clock, the time appointed by Judge McLean to hear
evidence on the habeas corpus writ. Deputy Marshal Black, to
whom the writ had been directed, made return that McQuerry was
not in his custody, and informed the judge that he had been taken
by the claimant and Deputy Marshal from Dayton, before
United States Commissioner Carpenter, who had postponed the
hearing of the case before him until two P. M., at the Criminal
Court-room, until which time he had committed him to jail.
Upon which the case was referred to the Commissioner to proceed
with, but he, inasmuch as the matter had thus come before Judge
McLean, and as it was the first case under the fugitive slave law
in Ohio, said that he was willing and would prefer that the heai^
ing should proceed before him (Judge McLean) as it was import-
ant as a precedent that it should be determined by the highest
authority. Judge McLean thereupon ordered the two Deputy
Marshals, Black and Trader, to bring the prisoner before him at
two o'clock P. M., at the Criminal Court-room, as appointed by
the Commissioner.

** At the lime appointed, the court-room was crowded by whites
and blacks, the jury box being filled by ladies. The Mayor was
present, and had ordered a large police force to station themselves
in and around the Court-House.

** T. C. Ware appeared for the claimant, and Messrs. Jolliffe and
Birney for McQuerry. The testimony for the claimant went to
prove that the prisoner was his property, and was a < fugitive from

A FUGITIVE SLA YE LA W CASE, 5^5

service and labor/ due to him as his master. The counsel for the
prisoner moved for a continuance of the case until absent wit-
nesses could be produced to prove that he had resided for more
than four years in Ohio, during which time he had been reputed
and taken by his neighbors to be a free man and had borne an
irreproachable character, but as the counsel for the claimant was
willing to admit all that, the judge ordered the case to proceed.
When the testimony closed. Ware opened the argument, very
brl<ny, for the plaintiff. He said that when be came into the
court-room he had no doubt but that he should be able to prove,
as he had done, that the man Wash. McQuerry was the fugitive
property of his client. * We have proved,* said he, * that
he and his mother before him were the slaves of Mr. Miller —
that the whole family belonged to Miller. It is in evidence
that he was always well treated, and it is probable that the
good character he has proved in this State is the result of
his good training by Mr. Miller. May it please the Court, \
am free to say that aside from our constitutional obligations,
as an abstract question, I can agree with the counsel for the
defense, as to the abstract rights of his client and the wrong of
slavery. But I came up here to assist in supporting the constitu-
tion and the laws — to do this peaceably and with dignity, and
without the excitement of the natural sympathies.' He then
alluded briefly to the admission made by McQuerry that he ran
away from Miller, and waived further argument for the present.

**Mr. JoUiffe followed for the defense. He concurred entirely
with the opposite counsel in loyalty to the constitution and readi-
ness to support it. But not alone the constitution, not alone the
lawf;. Human justice and human right were also to be regarded.

***Our only evidence,' said he, * is that of the hunters of this
man, that he has been four years a resident of this State; that he
has been a sober industrious man, a good husband, a respected
neighbor. Four years in Ohio, and reputed to be a free man.
But now comes a man from the State of Kentucky, demanding a
process by which this defendant — this intelligent and upright
human being— may be dragged from his home, from the wife of
his bosom, from the graves of his children, and, bound hand and
foot, hurried forever away from them and from all he holds dear,
into a bondage by the side of which Egyptian ihralldom was a
mercy I Nor is his home to be in the Kentucky of his youth.

546 REMINISCENCES,

Already the wielder of irresponsible power — the awful power
over a human soul— has warned the heart-broken husband that he
is to be sold; the last drop of his blood may be scourged out on
far Southern plantations, till his soul is freed by the Great Eman-
cipator and goes to its God.

•**The question upon which your Honor is now to pass is one
of extraordinary interest ; it is the first time it has been brought
before so distinguished a tribunal. The question is still open ; it
has not yet been decided by any binding authority.' Mr. Jolliflfe
then proceeded to a powerful constitutional argument, taking the
broad ground that the fugitive slave law of 1850 was unconstitu-
tional and void. On this point the defense rested. Why was it
assumed that Washington McQuerry was a slave ? What was the
evidence that Miller had a right to his body, which God made,
and to his soul, for which Christ died? No statute of Kentucky
could be found to establish that right. He quoted a number of
authorities to support his position, and asked the consent of the
Court for a friend — Dr. Brisbane, of South Carolina — to read an
argument on the point, which he had adopted as his own. The
request was granted. After Dr. Brisbane had read an elaborate
argument, Mr. Jolliffe concluded his own by a powerful review
of the fundamental principles of human law, and the nature of
human rights. There was a difference between rightful legisla-
tion and tyranny ; was not that legislation which struck down all
the rights of a man tyranny ? Suppose one man should be placed
aside, and all the millions of earth's population passed by him, and
as they passed, each one cast a vote that this one man should be a
slave -would that divest him of a single natural right? There
was no such thing as constitutional slavery in the United States.
The one fact that the slave act of 1850 denies the right of trial by
jury made it unconstitutional.

** Mr, Birney, the other counsel for the fugitive, deferred his
argument until the next morning and the court adjourned. On
the return of the prisoner to the jail, strongly guarded by the
police, some demonstrations were made by the crowd of colored
people, but they were checked by the police.

** The next morning Mr. Birney made an able argument in behalf
of the fugitive. He was followed by Mr. Ware for the claimant,
after which the judge gave his decision. After reviewing the
evidence, he referred to the law bearing on such cases and said.

A FU&ITtVE SLA VE LA W CASE.

547

* I can not here be governed by sympathy ; I have to look to the
Iaw and be governed by the law, and to guard myself with more
than usual caution in such a case, when judgment might be
warped by sympathy. ♦ • * » This is not a case
for sympathy ; the evidence certainly is complete, that the fugi-
tive had a kind master; of this matter we on the north bank of
the Ohio River have no concern. The law has been enacted by
the highest power — that none is higher is acknowledged by all
men. Sooner or later a disregard for the law would bring chaos,
anarchy and widespread ruin ; the law must be enforced. Let
those who think differently go to the people who make the laws.
I can not turn aside from the sacred duties of my office to regard
aught but the law. By the force of all the testimony and the law
I am bound to remand the fugitive to his master.'

"After this decision, Mr. Jolliffe moved for a writ of certiorari
to the Supreme Court. The Court said that there could be no
appeal from the decision of a judge of the Supreme Court of the
United States made at chambers. The point had, he was quite
certain, been decided by the Supreme Court. He was willing,
however, to give any reasonable time for counsel to investigate
the question. At the suggestion of the Court it was finally
arranged that the claimant, Mr. Miller, should enter into a
bond for two thousand dollars, conditioned upon his returning
McQuerry to this State in case it should be decided that the case
could be taken to the Supreme Court.

** At the conclusion of his argument, Mr. Ware stated that Mr.
Miller would emancipate his slave for the sum of one thousand
two hundred dollars, and donate fifty dollars himself toward that
purpose, or he was willing to take the appraisement of disinter-
ested parties in Lexington.

«* Wash. McQuerry was then delivered up to his claimant by the
United States Deputy Marshal, and was at once taken across to
Covington on his way back to slavery.

Those of us who were deeply interested in the
fugitive's case made zealous efforts to raise the sum
required by his master and to buy his freedom.
Money was sent in by various individuals, and a

548 REMimscEmES,

number of subscriptions were obtained, but we did
not succeed in raising the amount required.

THE SERVICES OF JOHN JOLLIFFE.

In connection with the cases tried under the Fugi-
tive Slave law in this city, that noble anti-slavery
lawyer — ^John Joliifle — was especially prominent.
He has gone to his reward, but the record he left is
imperishable. His heart was quick to respond to
the needs of the fugitives, and no sacrifice of time,
strength, talent, or business reputation was too
great to be willingly and cheerfully rendered in
behalf of the oppressed. He pleaded the cause of
the fugitive slaves with all his skill as a lawyer and
all his eloquence as an orator. In those days when
to be an abolitionist or in sympathy with the hap-
less victims of bondage was to*be shunned and to
lose one's reputation and chances of success in one's
business or profession, it required a heart true to
the principles of right, a self-forgetful devotion to
the cause of humanity, to pursue the course fol-
lowed by John Jolliffe. The talents and the knowl-
edge of law that might have won for him a wide and
richly remunerative practice, he devoted to an un-
popular cause, receiving for his services no reward
but the plaudits of his own conscience, and the
highest respect and esteem of all who were not
blinded by prejudice.

ESCAPE FROM A COURT -ROOM.

A slave man, named Louis, escaped from the in-
terior of Kentucky, and came to Cincinnati, where

A FUGITIVE SLA VE LA W CASE. 54^

he found employment, and remained for some time,
but finally made his way to the neighborhood of
Columbus. After he had lived there several years,
his master learned of his whereabouts and went in
pursuit of him. A writ was obtained and placed in
the hands of the marshal of Columbus, who arrested
Louis and brought him to Cincinnati, on his way
back to slavery. In the meantime friends of Louis
at Columbus telegraphed to Lawyer JoUiffe, notify-
ing him of the case. He at once came to see me,
and we immediately got out a writ to arrest the
master for kidnapping. The sheriff of Cincinnati
awaited the party from Columbus at the Little
Miami Railroad depot, and when the train arrived,
he took the slaveholder in custody.

Law>er Hays united with Jolliffe in defending the
fugitive. They endeavored to prove that Louis had
formerly accompanied his master to this State to aid
him in driving a drove of horses back to Kentucky,
and that under the law of Ohio, which liberated
every slave who came into the State by his master's
consent, Louis was free. The slaveholder was al-
lowed to go home to get evidence and secure wit-
nesses that Louis was his property, and the negro
was placed in jail to await his trial. The case was
tried before Commissioner Carpenter, and as it was
among the first in this district that came under the
Fugitive Slave law of 1850, it attracted much atten-
tion. The trial lasted several days, and after all the
evidence had been given . and the lawyers closed
their arguments, the Commissioner deferred judg-
ment until next day at two o'clock, wishing to

5 so

REMINISCENCES,

deliberate on the case. When the time set for the
decision arrived, the court-room was crowded with
interested listeners, white and black. It was during
the building of the new Court-House, and the court
was held in the second story of Wilson's building
on Court Street. The room was long and had a
table or counter through the center. On the west
side of this there was a crowd of colored people,
standing; the judge and lawyers were sitting at the
table. Opposite them sat the slave, between his
master and the marshal of Columbus, and just be-
hind him stood a crowd of white people, composed
of friends of the slave, and others who had been
drawn to the spot by matters of curiosity. The
judge was slow and tedious in reviewing the evi-
dence, and as he spoke in a low tone, and the audi-
tors were anxious to hear they leaned forward much
absorbed, trying to catch every word, as they ex-
pected every moment to hear the negro consigned
to slavery.

Louis was crowded, and to gain more room, slip-
ped his chair back a little way. Neither his master
nor the marshal noticed the movement, as they
were intently listening to the judge, and he slipped
his chair again, until he was back of them. I was
standing close behind him and saw every movement.
Next he rose quietly to his feet and took a step
backward. Some abolitionist, friendly to his cause,
gave him an encouraging touch on the foot, and he
stepped farther back. Then a good hat was placed
on his head by some one behind, and he quietly and
cautiously made his way around the south end of

A FUGITIVE SLA VE LA W CASE, 551

the room, into the crowd of colored people on the
west side, and, through it, toward the door. I and
several other abolitionists had our eyes on him, and
our hearts throbbed with suppressed excitement
and anxiety lest he should be discovered. The
door and passage were crowded with Germans,
through whom Louis made his way, and passing
down stairs gained the street. He was well ac-
quainted with the different streets, and made his
way quickly, though with not enough haste to at-
tract attention, through an alley, across the canal,
through the German settlement, and by an indirect
route to Avondale, where he knew the sexton of
the colored burying ground. About five minutes
after he left the court-room his absence was discov-
ered, and created a great sensation. The marshal
cried, ** Louis is gone!" and made a rush for the
door and down stairs, followed by his supporters to
search for the fugitive who had slipped through
their fingers. Louis' friends were all delighted, of
course, and there was an extensive display of grin-
ning ivories among the crowd of colored people.
The Commissioner adjourned court till the following
Tuesday (but it has never been convened from that
day to this), and the crowd dispersed, some jubilant
over the unexpected course things had taken, some
equally chagrined. A vigorous search was made for
Louis by the marshal and the pro-slavery party, but
he could not be found.

I, and other abolitionists, learning of his where-
abouts, decided that he was not safe on the out-
skirts of the city, and the following night we dis-

552

REMINISCENCES.

guised him in woman*s apparel, brought him into
the city, and took him to the house of one of his
colored friends, on Broadway, near Sixth Street.
He was placed in an upper room and the door
locked, and here he remained about a week. Only
two or three persons knew of his hiding-place, but
as several policemen were seen frequently in the
vicinity, we feared that he was in danger, and for
greater safety decided to remove him.

I had an interview with the trustees of a popular
church known to be friends to the slave, and ar-
rangements were made for Louis* removal. He was
again dressed in woman's apparel, and, obeying
directions previously given him, he walked down
Broadway, one Sabbath evening, to the corner of
Eighth Street, when he saw me. I passed on to
Vine Street and joined the throng of people going
to evening service. Louis followed, at a short dis-
tance, and was conducted to the church previously
mentioned. I passed in at a side gate and went into
the basement of the church. Louis followed me
and was soon safely secreted in one of the com-
mittee rooms, where he remained for several weeks.
The officers of the law made vigorous efforts to find
him, but gained no clue to his hiding-place. It was
said that the Columbus marshal disguised himself as
a Friend, and went among the Friends* settlements
in Ohio, under a fictitious name, inquiring for Louis.
He professed to feel great anxiety and concern for
Louis' safety, as there was so much search for him,
but he gained no intelligence of the fugitive.

To mislead his pursuers, a telegram was sent to

A FUGITIVE SLAVE LA W CASE. 553

Cincinnati from Columbws, and published in the
Gazette, saying that Louis had passed there on the
train bound for Cleveland, and another dispatch
from Cleveland, saying he had arrived there and
taken the boat for Detroit. All this time, Louis
remained in his comfortable quarters in the com-
mittee room, where he heard the preaching every
Sabbath, in the room above. Finally, a Presby-
terian minister and his wife, who were in Cincinnati
for a short time, with their horse and carriage,
offered to convey him out of the city. Arrange-
ments were accordingly made, and they drove to
the church door one morning about nine o'clock.
Louis, disguised as a woman with a vail over his
face, entered the carriage and sat on the back seat
by the lady. They took him about thirty miles out
of the city, that day, to a noted depot of the Un-
derground Railroad, and he was duly shipped to
Sandusky, where he arrived in safety and took the
boat for Canada.

There afterward appeared an ironical article in a
Cincinnati paper, giving the intelligence that all the
time Louis' pursuers were searching for him, he was
comfortably ensconced in the committee rooms of a
popular church, and inquiring *'WHat is to become
of the rights of slaveholders, and the divinely ap-
pointed institution, if ministers will connive at such
plans to defraud owners of their property?'*

Louis' master claimed his full value — one thou-
sand dollars — from the marshal of Columbus, who
had him in charge at the time of his escape, and
who was responsible for his safekeeping, but it was

554 REMINISCENCES.

reported that the marshal effected a compromise
with him, and closed the case satisfactorily to the
claimant, by paying eight hundred dollars.

The whole occurrence excited much attention and
was widely commented upon at the time. It is
probably the only instance on record of a prisoner
escaping from a court-room in broad daylight, and
eluding the grasp of a watchful marshal, and the sur-
veillance of the officers of the court. As soon as
court adjourned several persons came into my store,
which was in the adjoining building, laughing and
appearing much pleased with what had happened,
and asked me if I had a trap-door by which I could
let fugitives down to the Underground Railroad. I
replied, ''Yes," and showed them the hatch-way
into the cellar.

I afterward asked Commissioner Carpenter what
his decision in the case would have been. He said
that he had decided that the Fugitive Slave Act
conferred, or purported to confer, powers of a judi-
cial character on him as Commissioner, which, in his
opinion, he could not constitutionally exercise. The
case of Louis occurred in October, 1853. In the
following June, Carpenter resigned his office as
Commissioner, giving his reasons for doing so in an
able and lengthy article that appeared in the Cincin-
nati Gazette,

THE ROSETTA ARMSTEAD CASE.

The Rosetta case, or the trial of the slave girl
Rosetta Armstead, created much excitement in this
city at the time, on account of sympathy with the

A FOOITIVE SLA VE LA W CASE. 555

girl, and attracted much attention on account of the
principles involved. It occurred in March, 1855.
The outlines of the case are as follows :

" Rosetta, a light muiaiio girl of sixieen, was the proper ty of
Rev. Henrji Dennison, of Louisville, Kenlucky, who had owned
her all her life. The family had formerly lived in Wheeling, Vir-
ginia, and had removed to Louiiiville about three years before the
opening of our story. Dennison placed Rosetta in the care of one
Miller, one of his friends, to take her back lu Wheeling. Miller
started by river, but on account of heavy ice running could pro-
ceed no farther than Cincinnati. Here he left the river, intend-
ing to go straight through by rail, but finally decided to pay a
visit to some friends in Columbus. He went to that city, taking
Rosetta with him. By this act of Miller's— acting as agent for
the master — Rosetta was made free, but she did not know the law
governing such cases, and probably would not have taken advant-
age of the facts iu the case, had not the colored people of Colum-
bus interested themselves in her behalf and informed her that she
was now free. She was taken from the custody of Miller by a
writ of habeas corpuii, and brought before the Probate Court of
Columbus for a hearing. She was declared free, and being a
minor, a guardian was appointed to look after her rights, Louis
Van Slyke, Esq., of Columbus. A paper of that city says; 'The
Rev. Mr. Dennison, of Louisville, the owner of the girl Rosetta
Armstead, arrived in this city yesterday, and held an interview
with her at the house of Mr. Van Slyke, to whose care she was
committed by the court. Mr. Dennison told the girl that he had
come for the purpose of taking her home with him if she wished
to return, but a.i she was in a free Stale, she had the liberty of
going or remaining at her option. The girl, after deliberating
about a minute, said she .'ihould prefer remaining in a free State,
rather than return to slavery. Mr. Dennison baile her good-by,
shook hands with her and parted, evidently much grieved at (he
loss of a favorite servant. The girl is now in the employ of Dr.
Coulter, at whose house she will doubtless meet with the kindest
treatment.'

"Dennison, the master, was not satisfied, and thinking that he
still might obtain possession of the girl, got a warrant for her
arrest and placed it in the hand of the United Stales Marshal, for

556 Reminiscences.

the Southern District of Ohio, who brought Rosetta t^ Cincin
nati, intending to have her tried before Commissioner Pcndcry,
under the Fugitive Slave law. Van Slyke accompanied her to
look after her rights. Before she could be brought before Com-
missioner Pendery, a writ of habeas corpus was sued out by her
friends, and she was brought before Judge Parker to show cause
for detention. The judge decided that she was free, that the war-
rant for her arrest was defective, and that the marshal had no
right to hold her in custody.

**In the meantime Dennison had made an affidavit before Com-
missioner Pendery, that Rosella was a fugitive from labor and
service, and the case was set to be tried before the Commissioner.
S. P. Chase, who was counsel for Rosetla's guardian, before
Judge Parker, feared that she would be rearrested to go before
Pendery, and asked that she might be protected to a place of
safety ; he wished the Court to grant an order authorizing the
sheriff to conduct her to a place of safety before delivering her
out of his hands. The sheriff asked her guardian where he
wished Rosetta delivered to him, and Van Slyke said : * At the
Woodruff House.*

"This was accordingly done, but as soon as she was released
from the custody of the sheriff, Robinson, the United States Mar-
shal, who brought her from Columbus, stepped in and presented
a warrant for rearrest. Van Slyke complained to the Court before
which the case had just been decided, and Judge Parker issued
a summons to United States Marshal Robinson, to answer foe
contempt, for rearresting Rosetta after the Court had pronounced
her free, and the warrant defective.

** We will not follow this side issue, as it involved only technical
points of law, but turn to Rosetta again.

** F. Ball appeared for Rosetta, and after the testimony had
proved that she had been placed in Miller's charge by Dennison,
and that Miller, acting as his agent, had brought her into a free
State, he plead that she was entitled to her freedom — that such an
act made her free — that Dennison's offering her her choice to stay
or return (when in Columbus), amounted to tacit manumission,
and that she had already been pronounced free by two courts of
law. The claimants refused to recognize the jurisdiction of those
courts in the premises, and claimed the right to take her as a.
fugitive from service and labor, under the Fugitive Slave law.

A FVatTtVE SLA VE LA JK CASE.

557

<*Rosetta's counsel claimed that she could not be returned
under the Fugitive Slave law, for that only provided for the escape
of a slave from a slave State to a free State, and Rosetta had done
nothing of the kind, she had been brought here. After argument
Dy opposing counsel, the Commissioner deferred decision until the
following Tuesday — this was on Saturday. The marshal took
Rosetta to the county jail for safe keeping during the interval.
A large concourse of people who wtre interested in the case fol-
lowed them along the street to the jail.

•• On the following Tuesday, the Commissioner decided that the
claimant, Dennison, was bound by the act of his agent Miller;
that there was no escape on Rosetta's part ; that bringing her to
Columbus and there offering her her freedom was equivalent to
emancipating her. lie then declared Rosetta free.

** Hearty demonstrations of applause followed this announce-
ment. Van Slyke received many congratulations on the issue of
the trial, then, with Rosetta in his charge, he took carriage for
the railroad depot, and returned to Columbus. A deep interest
there had been felt in the trial, and a concourse of five hundred
people met them at the depot.

MARGARET GARNER.

Perhaps no case that came under my notice, while
engaged in aiding fugitive slaves, attracted more
attention and aroused deeper interest and sympathy
than the case of Margaret Garner, the slave mother,
who killed her child rather than see it taken back to
slavery. This happened in the latter part of Janu-
ary, 1856. The Ohio River was frozen over at the
time, and the opportunity thus offered for escaping
to a free State was embraced by a number of slaves
living in Kentucky, several miles back from the
river. A party of seventeen, belonging to different
masters in the same neighborhood, made arrange-
ments to escape together. There was snow on the
ground and the roads were smooth, so the plan of

558 REMINISCENCES.

going to the river on a sled naturally suggested
itself. The time fixed for their flight was Sabbath
night, and having managed to get a large sled and
two good horses, belonging to one of their masters,
the party of seventeen crowded into the sled and
started on their hazardous journey in the latter part
of the night. They drove the horses at full speed,
and at daylight reached the river below Covington,
opposite Western Row. They left the sled and
horses here, and as quickly as possible crossed the
river on foot. It was now broad daylight, and peo-
ple were beginning to pass about the streets, and
the fugitives divided their company that they might
not attract so much notice.

An old slave man named Simon, and his wife
Mary, together with their son Robert and his wife
Margaret Garner and four children, made their way
to the house of a colored man named Kite, who had
formerly lived in their neighborhood and had been
purchased from slavery by his father, Joe Kite.
They had to make several inquiries in order to find
Kite's house, which was below Mill Creek, in the
lower part of the city. This afterward led to their
discovery ; they had been seen by a number of per-
sons on their way to Kite's, and were easily traced
by pursuers. The other nine fugitives were more
fortunate. They made their way up town and found
friends who conducted them to safe hiding-places,
where they remained until night. They were then
put on the Underground Railroad, and went safely
through to Canada.

Kite felt alarmed for the safety of the party that

A FUGITIVE SLA VE LA W CASE. 55^

had arrived at his house, and as soon as breakfast
was over, he came to my store, at the corner of
Sixth and Elm Streets, to ask counsel regarding
them. I told him that they were in a very unsafe
place and must be removed at once. I directed him
how to conduct them from his house to the outskirts
of the city, up Mill Creek, to a settlement of col-
ored people in the western part of the city, where
fugitives were often harbored. I would make ar-
rangements to forward them northward, that night,
on the Underground Railroad. Kite returned to
his house at once, according to my directions, but
he was too late; in a few minutes after his return,
the house was surrounded by pursuers — the masters
of the fugitives, with officers and a posse of men.
The door and windows were barred, and those inside
refused to give admittance. The fugitives were de-
termined to fight, and to die, rather than to be taken
back to slavery. Margaret, the mother of the four
children, declared that she would kill herself and
her children before she would return to bondage.
The slave men were armed and fought bravely.
The window was first battered down with a stick of
wood, and one of the deputy marshals attempted to
enter, but a pistol shot from within made a flesh
wound on his arm and caused him to abandon the
attempt. The pursuers then battered down the
door with some timberand rushed in. The husband
of Margaret fired several shots, and wounded one
of the officers, but was soon overpowered and drag-
ged out of the house. At this moment, Margaret
Garner, seeing that their hopes of freedom were

56o REAflN/SCENCES.

vain seized a butcher knife that lay on the table,
and with one stroke cut the throat of her little
daui;hter, whom she probably loved the best. She
then attempted to take the life ot the other children
and to kill herself, but she was overpowered and
hampered before she could complete her desperate
work. The whole party was then arrested and
lodged in jail.

The trial lasted two weeks, drawing crowds to the
court-room every day. Colonel Chambers, of this
city, and two lawyers from Covington — Wall and
Tinnell — appeared for the claimants, and Messrs.
JollifTe and Getchell for the slaves. The counsel for
the defense brought witnesses to prove that the
fugitives had been permitted to visit the city at
various times previously. It was claimed that Mar-
garet Garner had been brought here by her owners
a number of years before, to act as nurse girJ, and
according to the law which liberated slaves who
were brought into free States by the consent of their
masters, she had been free from that time, and her
children, all of whom had been born since then —
following the condition of the mother — were like-
wise free.

The Commissioner decided that a voluntary return
to slavery, after a visit to a free State, re-attached
the conditions of slavery, and that the fugitives
were legally slaves at the time of their escape.

Early in the course of the trial. Lawyer Jol-
liffe announced that warrants had been issued by
the State authorities to arrest the fugitives on a
criminal charge — Margaret Garner for murder, and

A FUGITIVE SLA VE LA W CASE. 56 j

the others for complicity in murder — and moved that
the papers should be served on them immediately.
Commissioner Pendery wished that to be deferred
until he had given his decision, and the fugitives
were out of the jurisdiction of his court, but JoUiffe
pressed the motion to have the warrants served —
"For," said he, **the fugitives have all assured me
that they will go singing to the gallows rather than
be returned to slavery." He further said that it
might appear strange for him to be urging that his
clients should be indicted for murder, but he was
anxious that this charge should be brought against
them before they passed from the jurisdiction of the
Commissioner's Court, for the infamous law of 1850
provided that no warrant in any event should be
served upon the fugitives in case they were re-
manded to the custody of their owners. Not even
a warrant for murder could prevent their being
returned to bondage.

Jolliffe said that in the final argument of the case
he intended not only to allege, but to demonstrate,
conclusively, to the Court, that the Fugitive Slave
law was unconstitutional, and as part and parcel of
that argument he wished to show the effects of carry-
ino- it out. It had driven a frantic mother to murder
her own child rather than see it carried back to the
seething hell of American slavery. This law was of
such an order that its execution required human
hearts to be wrung and human blood to be spilt.

** The Constitution," said he, ** expressly declared
that Congress should pass no law prescribing any
form of religion or preventing the free exercise

562 REMINISCENCES.

thereof. If Congress could not pass any law re-
quiring you to worship God, still less could they
pass one requiring you to carry fuel to hell.'* These
ringing words called forth applause from all parts of
the court-room. JoUiffe said: **It is for the Court
to decide whether the Fugitive Slave law overrides
the law of Ohio to such an extent that it can not
arrest a fugitive slave even for a crime of murder,"

The fugitives were finally indicted for murder, but
we will see that this amounted to nothing.

Margaret Garner, the chief actor in the tragedy
which had occurred, naturally excited much atten-
tion. She was a mulatto, about five feet high, show-
ing one-fourth or one-third white blood. She had
a high forehead, her eyebrows were finely arched
and her eyes bright and intelligent, but the African
appeared in the lower part of her face, in her broad
nose and thick lips. On the left side of her fore-
head was an old scar, and on the cheek-bone, on the
same side, another one. When asked what caused
them, she said: ** White man struck me." That
was all, but it betrays a story of cruelty and degra-
dation, and, perhaps, gives the key-note to Mar-
garet's hate of slavery, her revolt against its thrall-
dom, and her resolve to die rather than go back
to it.

She appeared to be twenty-two or twenty-three
years old. While in the court-room she was dressed
in dark calico, with a white handkerchief pinned
around her neck, and a yellow cotton handkerchief,
arranged as a turban, around her head. The babe
she held in her arms was a little girl, about nine

A FUGITIVE SLA VE LA W CASE.

563

months old, and was much lighter in color than her-
self, light enough to show a red tinge in its cheeks.
During the trial she would look up occasionally, for
an instant, with a timid, apprehensive glance at the
strange faces around her, but her eyes were gener^
ally cast down. The babe was continually fondling
her face with its little hands, but she rarely noticed
it, and her general expression was one of extreme
sadness. The little boys, four and six years old,
respectively, A^ere bright-eyed, woolly-headed little
fellows, with fat dimpled cheeks. During the trial
they sat on the floor near their mother, playing to-
gether in happy innocence, all unconscious of the
gloom that shrouded their mother, and of the fact
that their own future liberty was at stake. The
murdered child was almost white, a little girl of
rare beauty.

The case seemed to stir every heart that was alive
to the emotions of humanity. The interest mani-
fested by all classes was not so much for the legal
principles involved, as for the mute instincts that
mold every human heart — the undying love of free-
dom that is planted in every breast — the resolve to
die rather than submit to a life of degradation and
bondage.

A number of people, who were deeply interested
in the fugitives, visited them in prison and con-
versed with them. Old Simon, his wife Mary, and
their son Robert, while expressing their longing for
freedom, said that they should not attempt to kill
themselves if they were returned to slavery. Their
trust in God seemed to have survived all the wrong

564

REMINISCENCES.

and cruelty inflicted upon them by man, and though
they felt often like crying bitterly, **How long, O
Lord, how long?'* they still trusted and endured.
But Margaret seemed to have a different nature;
she could see nothing but woe for herself and her
children. Who can fathom the depths of her heart
as she brooded over the wrongs and insults that had
been heaped upon her all her Hfe ? Who can won-
der if her faith staggered when she saw her efforts
to gain freedom frustrated, when she Saw the gloom
of her old life close around her again, without any
hope of deliverance? Those who came to speak
words of comfort and cheer felt them die upon
their lips, when they looked into her face, and
marked its expression of settled despair. Her sor-
row was beyond the reach of any words of encour-
agement and consolation, and can be realized in all
its fullness only by those who have tasted of a cup
equally bitter.

Among those who visited Margaret in prison was
Lucy Stone, the well-known eloquent public speaker.
It was reported that she gave Margaret a knife, and
told her to kill herself and her children rather than
be taken back to slavery. Colonel Chambers, the
counsel for the claimants, referred to this rumor in
court, and Lucy Stone, coming in shortly afterward,
was informed of it. She requested to say a few
words in reply, and when the court had adjourned,
the greater part of the crowd remained to hear her.
She said : **I am only sorry that I was not in when
Colonel Chambers said what he did about me, and
my giving a knife to Margaret. When I saw that

A FUGITIVE SLA VE LA W CASE. 565

poor fugitive, took her toil-hardened hand in mine,
and read in her face deep suffering and an ardent
longing for freedom, I could not help bid her be of
good cheer. I told her that a thousand hearts were
aching for her, and that they were glad one child of
hers was safe with the angels. Her only reply was
a look of deep despair, of anguish such as no words
can speak. I thought the spirit she manifested was
the same with that of our ancestors to whom we
had erected the monument at Bunker Hill — the
spirit that would rather let us all go back to God
than back to slavery. The faded faces of the negro
children tell too plainly to what degradation female
slaves must submit. Rather than give her little
daughter to that life, she killed it. If in her deep
maternal love she felt the impulse to send her child
back to God, to save it from coming woe, who shall
say she had no right to do so ? That desire had its
root in the deepest and holiest feelings of our na-
ture — implanted alike in black and white by our
common Father. With my own teeth I would tear
open my veins and let the earth drink my blood,
rather than to wear the chains of slavery. How then
could I blame her for wishing her child to find free-
dom with God and the angels, where no chains are ?
I know not whether this Commissioner has children,
else I would appeal to him to know how he would
feel to have them torn from him, but I feel that he
will not disregard the Book which says: 'Thou shalt
not deliver unto his master the servant which is
escaped from his master unto thee: he shall dwell
with thee, even among you, in that place which he

566 REMINISCENCES.

shall choose in one of thy gates, where it liketh him
best/"

But in spite of touching appeals, of eloquent
pleadings, the Commissioner remanded the fugitives
back to slavery. He said that it was not a question
of feeling to be decided by the chance current of
his sympathies; the law of Kentucky and of the
United States made it a question of property.

In regard to the claim, plainly established by the
evidence, that the fugitives had previously been
brought to this State by the consent of their mas-
ters, he said: '*Had the slaves asserted their free-
dom, they would have been practically free, but
they voluntarily returned to slavery. In allowing
them to come to Ohio, the master voluntarily aban-
doned his claim upon them, and they, in returning,
abandoned their claim to freedom."

By a provision of the law, previously referred to,
they could not be tried on the warrant for murder,
and their indictment on that charge was practically
ignored. Jolliffe said, indignantly, that even a sav-
age tribe reserved to itself the right to investigate
a charge for murder committed within its border,
but the sovereign State of Ohio allowed itself and
its laws to be overruled by the infamous Fugitive
Slave law, made in the interests of slaveholders.
The question of bringing the case before a superior
court, and trying the slaves for murder was agitated,
and Gaines, the master of Margaret, promised to
have her in safe-keeping on the opposite side of tiie
river, to be delivered up to the authorities of the
State of Ohio, if a requisition for her was made.

A FUGITIVE SLAVE LA W CASE.

567

The fugitives were then delivered to their owners,
who conveyed them in an omnibus to the wharf of
the Covington ferry-boat. A crowd followed them
to the river, but there was no demonstration. The
masters were surrounded by large numbers of their
Kentucky friends, who had stood by them and
guarded their interests during the trial, and there
W2LS great rejoicing among them, on account of
their victory.

The masters kept their slaves in jail in Covington,
a few days, then took them away. When the requi-
sition was made for Margaret, Gaines said that he
had kept her in Covington for some time according
to the agreement, then, as the writ was not served,
he had sent her down the river. This was a viola-
tion of the spirit of the agreement, and much indig-
nation was manifested by Margaret's friends in
Ohio, but nothing further was done. Margaret was
lost, in what Jolliffe called, "the seething hell of
American slavery.*' It was reported that on her
way down the river she sprang from the boat into
the water with her babe in her arms ; that when she
rose she was seized by some of the boat hands and
rescued, but that her child was drowned.

After the trial of the fugitives, a committee of
citizens presented a purse to Jolliffe, accompanied
by an address, in token of their appreciation of his
services. He returned thanks in an eloquent letter,
setting forth his views on the unconstitutionality of
the Fugitive Slave law.

568

REMINISCENCES.

THE STORY OF A HAT.

During the time of the Margaret Garner trial,
the popular vocalists and anti-slavery singers, the
Hutchinson family, of New England, were in Cin-
cinnati. They had given several concerts here
which had attracted large audiences, as their anti-
slavery concerts generally did. They felt a deep
interest in the trial and offered to give a concert for
the benefit of the fugitives. A meeting of the
friends of the fugitives was held, and a committee,
of which I was a member, was appointed to secure
a suitable hall and make all the necessary arrange-
ments for the concert. Smith and Nixon's hall, on
Fourth Street, the best public hall in the city at
that time, was kindly offered by the proprietors for
the occasion. A part of the committee met next
morning, but as not all the members were present,
it was agreed to hold a meeting at three o'clock
that afternoon to complete all the arrangements,
and in the meantime to notify the absentees of the
hour agreed upon. It was laid upon me to notify
Samuel Alley, who was absent. About two o'clock
in the afternoon, while looking for him, I was in-
formed that he was in the court-room listening to
the proceedings in the fugitive case. The trial had
then been going on for several days, and a large
number of special marshals had been summoned as
guards to fend off the abolitionists — a few unarmed,
inoffensive men. who felt it right to plead the cause
of the oppressed, and to endeavor, by moral suasion,
to convince the people of the evils of slavery.

THE HAT STORY, jgp

These special marshals were mostly brought from
the Kentucky side of the river — all at the expense
uf the United States — to see that the infamous
slave law of 1850 was executed. These Kentuck-
ians, invested with a little brief authority, were sta-
tioned in and around the Court-House, and often
assumed authority to prevent colored people and
the particular friends of the slaves from entering
the court-room. One of these marshals was sta-
tioned at the door. When I was about to pass in,
he inquired, abruptly :

'*What are -you going in for? Are you a wit-
ness?**

I replied: **That is my business, not thine — we
live in a free State on this side of the river," and
passed by him into the court-room. It was a long
room — where the Commissioner's Court was held —
and was densely crowded. The scats had all been
moved behind the bar, in order to give standing
room.

The weather was extremely cold, and the only
provision for warming the apartment was a stove at
each end. The southern part of the room was
occupied by the Commissioner and his Court; in
the northern part every foot of standing space was
occupied by spectators. I saw Samuel Alley stand-
ing near the stove in the end of the room, and made
my way through the crowd to him, but neglected
to take off my hat.

The Kentucky marshal at the door, noticing this,
spoke in a loud commanding tone, and said : "Take
off your hat ! *' several times. I paid no attention

570

REMINISCENCES.

to him. He then made his way through the crowd
to me, and said, loudly and angrily: " I command
you to take off you hat, sir ! **

I spoke in a low tone, and asked: *' What is the
matter with my hat ? I suppose that it will not
hurt anybody."

He spoke as before, and said: "Why, sir, you
are in the United States Court. I have authority ;
I command you to pull off your hat."

I replied: "I shall not pull off my hat to accom-
modate thee. It is not my habit nor the habit of
my people to make obeisance to men."

He repeated, angrily, *'You are in the United
States Court, sir, and I command you ' to pull off
your hat."

I replied, mildly, "It is not the first time that I
have been in the United States Court. I have
served on juries in different courts, and in various
States, and was never commanded to pull off my
hat ; and I am not aware that a Commissioner's
Court, trying a fugitive slave case, is a more sacred
place than other courts."

The attention of the crowd seemed to be drawn
to us ; they turned their eyes in our direction to
watch the marshal's movements, and listened to the
words that passed between us.

The marshal, seeing that I was not disposed to
obey his commands, seized my hat rudely and jerked
it off my head. He then offered it to me, but I did
not take it, or pay any attention to it further than
to say, *• I thought thou wanted my hat."

Turning quietly toward my friend Alley, I re-

THE HAT STORY. 571

sumed conversation with him, in a low tone, regard-
ing the business of our committee meeting that
afternoon. The marshal stood a short time holding
my hat, and looking quite foolish (others said) ; then
seeing that I paid no attention to him, and was not
disposed to relieve him of the care of my hat, he
began to look around for some place on which to
lay it.

He espied a table or bench in one comer of the
room, and kindly laid my hat upon it, then made his
way back to his station at the door. A member
of our city police who knew me came to me and
said, "You had better go and get your hat; it
Jf^ight get lost.'* I replied: **I did not put it there
and I shall not go 'after it." The policeman then
went after it and brought it to me. I thanked him,
and put it on my head. The marshal at the door
soon discovered it, and began to cry out, as before,
*'Pull off your hat!" Seeing that I paid no
attention to him^ he made his way through the
crowd toward me, and again commanded me to
take off my hat, saying that he had authority; that
I was in the United States Court, etc. I replied
again that I had often been in courts before, and
had never been commanded to pull off my hat.
•'I have been in the Queen's Court," I said, "and
was allowed to wear my hat there without molesta-
tion. Friends have been permitted to approach
kings and emperors with their hats on ; I told thee
before that we did not make obeisance to men ;
I generally take off my hat, for my own comfort,
when seated in a house ; but I do not wish to take

572

REMINISCENCES.

it off now; it is not uncomfortable this cold day."

Again he seized my hat and pulled it off in a rude
manner. He offered it to me, as before ; but I
appeared not to notice it, and went on talking with
Alley as though nothing had occurred to interrupt
our quiet conversation. The marshal started across
the room to lay my hat where he had laid it before,
but on the way he met our city officer, who took
hold of it and said, **Let the gentleman's hat
alone." I could not hear the marshal's reply, as
he spoke in a low tone on that occasion, but I
heard the city officer say, sharply, '* I have as much
authority as you have, sir." He then took my hat
from the marshal, brought it to me and kindly
placed it on my head. *

The Kentucky marshal went back to his place at
the door, and did not trouble me further about my
hat, although I remained for some time with it on
my head.

When the marshal took off n:iy hat the second
time, his action seemed to arouse a feeling of indig-
nation among the people standing near me. When
he started away with it, some of them manifested a
spirit of fight; one said: ** Let him try that again;"
another said: **I can't stand that;" and a third
exclaimed, with an oath: **I won't stand that." I
did not turn my head to see who these men were,
nor pay any attention to what they said, but con-
tinued my conversation with Samuel Alley.

A Gazette reporter was present when this oc-
curred, and next morning an article appeared in
that paper giving an account of the marshal's rude-

THE HAT STORY. 573

ness in reference to my hat, and remarking that it
did not appear to throw me off of my usual equa-
nimity. One error occurred in this account ; the
reporter said that the marshal knocked my hat off —
he pulled it off with his hand.

The committee met according to agreement, and
completed the arrangement for the concert. I then
returned home, and finding there Jonathan Cable, a
.<itanch abolitionist and Presbyterian minister, from
College Hill, I related to him my adventure with
the marshal in the court-room. Cable immediately
picked up his hat and said: **I will try him." He
hastily made his way to the court-room, and passed
in, by the marshal at the door, keeping his hat on
his head.

The marshal cried out several times: **Pull off
your hat ! *' but seeing that his order was not
obeyed, he pressed through the crowd to the place
where Cable stood, and in an authoritative manner
commanded him to take off his hat. Cable made
no reply nor paid any attention to him, and the
marshal jerked his hat from his head, as he had
done mine. He then offered it to him, but Cable
declined to take it and said to him:

** Are you a United States officer?"

*'Yes, sir," replied the marshal.

"Well, then," rejoined Cable, *'you are a ser-
vant of ours; you may hold my hat;" adding, in a
sharp, commanding tone, *' don't carry it off."

The officer seemed perplexed and stood for a
short time, holding the hat. Court adjourned, at
that juncture, and Cable, taking his hat, returned

574

REMINISCENCES.

to my house in a very good humor, and related his
experiment.

The story of my adventure with the marshal,
respecting my hat, soon became extensively known.
The accounts given of it in the Cincinnati papers
were copied by other papers in various parts of the
country. The editor of the Gazette told me that he
had seen it in sixteen of his Southern exchanges.

For several days I could not walk the streets
without being accosted by some one who would
assert that I had whipped the marshal. My general
reply was: **I didn't hurt a hair of his head,"

UNVEnOROUJiD RAILROAD DEPOT.

575

CHAPTER XVII.

AN UNDERGROUND RAILROAD DEPOT — THE PURCHASE
OF SLAVES BY THEIR RELATIVES — OTHER SERVICES
FOR THE COLORED PEOPLE — THE CASE OF CON-
NELLY — "SAMBO IN A TIGHT BOX."

IN the year 1856 I sold out my store, but con-
tinued to do more or less commission business,
receiving consignments of country produce, etc.,
until a few years later, when I engaged in the
work for the Freedmen. After disposing of my
store, I leased a large, convenient house on the
southwest corner of Franklin Street and Broadway,
near Woodward College. It had been built for a
boarding-house by William Woodward — who estab-
lished the school and donated a large amount of
property to sustain it — and was well adapted for
such a purpose. It was in a quiet location, and de-
tached from other buildings, having a large open lot
on the south, with shade trees, and the college lot
on the west. The building contained over thirty
rooms, most of them large and well ventilated.
Here we opened a private boarding-house, receiving
only such as we thought would be agreeable com-
pany, for regular boarders, and in a short time had

576 REMINISCENCES.

a large and pleasant circle around our table. The
members were mostly professors of religion, of dif-
ferent evangelical denominations, and the majority
were strongly anti-slavery in sentiment. Several of
the principals and teachers of the public schools
boarded with us, as well as those of the Woodward
High School, and we also had ministers of different
denominations in our family. In addition to all
these, we had many transient boarders. Our house
was a resort for Friends who came to the city on
business, and other of our acquaintances from the
country, so that for a number of years it was simi-
lar to Friends' Institute in London, where members
of the Society from different parts of the kingdom
lodge and dine together when in that city on busi-
ness or other errands.

The building and locality on the corner of Frank-
lin and Broadway made a very suitable depot of the
Underground Railroad, and rarely a week passed
without bringing us passeniJ^ers for that mysterious
road. There was no pecuniary income from that"
class of boarders, but a constant outlay for them.
I kept a horse and wagon always on hand to convey
fugitives to the next depot. My wagon was made
to order for this express purpose ; it was a strong
spring-wagon, neatly curtained so that it could be
tightly closed, having a curtain in front, just behind
the driver, and had seats for six passengers. On
one occasion eight grown persons were crowded in,
besides the driver; this was a heavy load for my
horse, but when out of the city and beyond Walnut
Hills, the men got out and walked, which they

WORKING FOR THE COLORED PEOPLE. 577

could safejy do, as it was in the night. Some of
my friends called my wagon the Underground Rail-
road car, and my horse the locomotive.

THE PURCHASE OF SLAVES BY THEIR RELATIVES.

In addition to this work I was often called upon
to aid persons who had obtained their liberty, to
buy their wife or husband or children out of slavery.
Many such cases were brought before me where
there appeared to be little probability of success.
I discouraged the effort, but in other cases I did
what I could to aid in accomplishing the desired
object. When the matter was presented in some
tangible form and the money contributed passed
into the hands of some responsible person who had
agreed to transact the business, I felt like I could
take hold of the case, and recommend it to others.
There were some very touching stories of distress,
of a wife, a husband or a child to be sold to a trader
and taken to the far South, perhaps to be forever
separated from all they loved. In such instances
when some near relative started out to solicit money
to buy the person from bondage, it was hard to
refuse, almost impossible if one brought the case
home to himself.

OTHER SERVICES FOR THE COLORED PEOPLE.

Besides aiding fugitives, I often assisted the poor
and destitute among the free colored people of our
city, visiting the sick and afflicted among them who
seemed to be neglected by the white people, and
was often accused by those who were prejudiced

578

REMINISCENCES.

against colored people, of thinking more.of the col-
ored race than I did of the white. To such accusa-
tions I generally replied that I was no respecter of
color or race, that the negroes had souls equally as
precious as ours, that Christ had died for them a^ ,
well as for us, and that we were all alike in the
divine sight. The poor and destitute among therrj
were not looked after as such classes were among
the whites, and on that account I felt it my duty to
seek them out and help them. I often gave them
employment in preference to whites, not that I felt
any greater attachment to them on account of their
color, but because I knew that they were often
unjustly refused and neglected.

Sometimes I heard people say that they would
not have a negro about them ; they had never hired
one that did them any good, etc. I replied that
my experience had been different ; the best servants
I had ever employed belonged to that despised race.
"But,'* I added, *'it is quite natural that they
should not work with much zeal for those who dis-
like and hate them."

In addition to these attentions to the colored
people in our city, I was frequently called upon to
look after the welfare and proper settlement of fami-
lies that had been set free, and brought here, be-
cause the laws of the slave States would not allow
them to remain there and be free.

Such charges and cares seemed to accumulate on
my hands for several years preceding the war. I
was burdened with' them because others could not
be found to take them, and because, out of compas-

WORKING FOR THE COLORED PEOPLE. 575

sion, I could not refuse. I devoted much time to
looking after the interests of negroes who were
brought here and liberated, without receiving any
pecuniary compensation for my time and services.
At one timf a company of slaves, consisting of
several families, were willed free by their master —
living in the interior of Kentucky — and brought to
Cincinnati by an agent, and left to shift for them-
selves. They had difficulty in getting houses to live
in, and several families finally huddled into an old
tenement, which was so uncomfortable that some
of them soon became sick from exposure. Not
being used to city life they were unable to find
work, and soon became dissatisfied and discouraged.
They wished to go into the country but knew not
where to go. I was informed of their case and went
to visit them. Finding them situated so uncom-
fortably, and learning that the money which had
been given them was nearly gone, I advised them to
go into the country at once. The father of one of
the families was quite an intelligent man, and ap-
peared to be the leading spirit among them ; he had
been the manager of his old master's plantation. I
agreed to accompany him to hunt homes for the
company in the country, and we started next morn-
ing to Springfield, Ohio, taking several of the young
men with us. Arriving at Springfield, I called on
several of my friends there and roused their interest
in behalf of these people. Next day the young
men found good situations among the farmers — it
being the spring of the year — and the old man
found a comfortable house for his family and em-

5 go REMINISCENCES.

ployment on a farm, at good wages. We returned
to Cincinnati rejoicing at our success, and the whole
company removed at once to Springfield, where they
did well.

I was not allowed much rest from such demands
upon my services and sympathy, though the cases
differed in some respects. I think that it was in the
fall of the same year, that I was called upon by an
old gentleman from the State of Tennessee, named
McKnight, who told me that he had brought a
large family of slaves to Cincinnati, whom he wished
to liberate and locate in a settlement of Friends,
where they would be properly cared for. He said
he could recommend them as being honest, indus-
trious, and trustworthy. The family consisted of
the father, mother, and eight or nine children,
among whom were several boys nearly grown.
McKnight said that the children had all been born
in his house and brought up as part of his family,
and had never known what it was to be treated as
slaves. He and his wife had not been blessed with
children of their own, and they had reared these
children carefully, and were quite fond of them ; it
was a trial to part with them. The man had had the
entire charge of the farm and was a good manager,
and the woman was an excellent housekeeper, and
looked after all the affairs of household work.

McKnight and his wife were old and feeble, and
felt that they must make some provision for their
faithful servants. They intended that their slaves
should never belong to any one else, and as the law
did not allow them to be set free and remain in the

WORKING FOR THE COLORED PEOPLE. 581

State, they concluded to locate them in a free State.
He had accordingly brought them to Ohio, and,
having been advised to consult me, had called on
me for advice. After hearing the old man's story,
I felt deeply interested in his case, and began to
think over the places that would be suitable for the
purpose. In weighing the matter my mind seemed
to settle on Harveysburg, Warren County, knowing
it to be a good anti-slavery neighborhood, and I
advised him to go there.

The old man insisted on my going with him, as
he was a stranger to that part of the country, and I
finally agreed to accompany him. Next afternoon
we took the train to Corwin — the nearest station to
Harveysburg — taking with us the slave family and
all their freight, consisting of household furniture,
cooking utensils, etc. They seemed to be well sup-
plied with clothing and bedding. At Corwin we
obtained a comfortable room at the depot for them
to lodge in, using their own bedding, and having an
opportunity to prepare their food there. McKnight
and I procured conveyance to Harveysburg, four
miles distant. We arrived there after dark, and
were kindly received and entertained by my friends
Jonathan and Jane Clark. Next morning several
Friends, both men and women, were called in to
counsel with us in regard to the slave family; among
the women were Martha Antrim and several others,
^ho were noted sympathizers with the oppressed.
All present appeared to listen with deep interest to
McKnight's story about his family of slaves and his
desire to settle them among Friends.

582

REMINISCENCES.

Jonathan Clark kindly offered a house for their
present use. Teams were sent to Corwin for them,
and they were soon located in their new quarters.
I then returned home, but the old man remained a
few days longer, to see them comfortably settled.
They manifested great regard for their old master,
and appeared very loth to part with him. He pet-
ted the little children, and they evidently loved him.

McKnight stopped at my house on his return
home, and seemed happy and thankful that he had
been spared to get this great burden off his mind
and to see his slaves free. He spoke of his kind
treatment at Harveysburg, and of the council held
at J. Clark's the morning after we arrived there.
Alluding to the Quaker women that were present,
he said: *'I never felt so much like I was sur-
rounded by a company of angels," and burst into
tears. Some of those dear Friends he spoke of with
so much tenderness have since gone to their reward.

The slave family proved to be equal to the old
man's recommendation. They soon rented a large
farm, which the father and sons managed well, and
as the whole family were industrious and frugal,
they accumulated in a few years sufficient means to
buy a farm of their own. Here they lived, when
last I heard from them, comfortably situated and
respected by all their neighbors.

The following occurrence took place not long be
fore the breaking out of the war :

Two slaves, man and wife, belonging to a man
who lived in Covington, Kentucky, escaped to Cin-
cinnati, and went to the office of James Connelly, at

THE (X)SSELL y CA si:. - ^ ^

that time engaged on the local staff of the Cotnmer-
ciaL Having anti- slavery sympathies, he received
the fugitives and promised to aid them. I was ab-
sent from the city at that time, and while waiting
my return, to ship the two fugitives on the Under-
ground Railroad, Connelly put them in a room back
of his office, where he kept them several days, and
fed them. At night, when he left the office, he
locked them in. The search for them was so vigor-
ous that it was not considered safe for them to move,
and they remained in this place for more than a
week. By some means their master learned of their
whereabouts, and came with a posse of officers and
men to take them.

Connelly was absent at the time, and the door
was locked. The pursuers succeeded in making
their way into the office, and demanded entrance at
the inside door. The negro man, declaring he
would not be taken, refused to open it. They broke
the transom over the door, and he attempted to
shoot them. They fired at him, inflicting a mortal
wound, then, breaking in the door, they secured
him and his wife. Notwithstanding his wound he
fought desperately, but was soon overpowered and
bound. The fugitives were then taken across the
river to Covington, where the man died shortly
afterward.

The master got out a writ to arrest Connelly for
harboring fugitive slaves, but Connelly heard of it,
and immediately fled from the city. He went to
New York, where he obtained a position on the
staff of the Sun, and remained several months.

584 REMINISCENCES,

Learning of his whereabouts, the Cincinnati mar-
shal went East, and arrested him, brought him back
to Cincinnati and placed him in jail. As soon as I
heard of this I went to see Connelly, and it was ar-
ranged that he should be released on bail till court
convened. I went to work, and interested a nuni-
ber of prominent men, who agreed to sign the bond.
The sum required was large, but such business firms
and persons as Harwood and Marsh. Allen and Co.,
Dr. W. H. Mussey, and others, soon subscribed it.
Connelly was brought before Judge Leavitt, of the
United States Court, to have the bond executed.

In the court-room, S. M , prosecuting attorney,

came to me, and said: **Levi, you have rallied a
set of good-looking men to sign Connelly's bond."

"Yes," I replied; ** first-class men."

"Well," continued the attorney, "how is the
Underground Railroad prospering?"

"Oh, finely, finely, we have a great many pas-
sengers ; scarcely a week without more or less. But
you seem to get hold of very few cases. How is it,
Friend M., that I see thee engaged in this case?
Thou used to be on our side."

"I must see that the law is executed. But how
was it about this case ? It seems to have been badly
managed."

" I was away from home," I repHed, to which he
rejoined, "Ah! that explains the whole matter;"
then I went on: "Now, if I were to get into a
scrape of this kind, I would not dodge as Connelly
did. I would submit myself and abide the conse-
quences ; and I know thou wouldst dislike to prose-

THE CONNELLY CASE. 585

cute me for doing what thou knowest to be right,
and according to the dictates of humanity. Thou
wouldst not like to face me in court in such a case
as this."

He patted me on the shoulder and said: "I
guess there is no danger of your getting into
trouble, Mr. Coffin."

I continued : **How is it that you do not get
hold of cases at my house? We often have rich
cases there that would be worth considerable to
you. Only last week we had one of this kind. A
young woman as white as any of our wives or
daughters, who was held as a slave in Kentucky,
made her escape and came to this city. She found
a position as a servant girl among white people, and
no one suspected that she belonged to the colored
race. When she had been here a month or two
her master learned of her whereabouts and came in
pursuit of her. With two other men whom he had
called to his assistance, he undertook to capture her
one evening as she was returning from church with
several ladies, but she showed fight, and her com-
panions did also. Some policemen saw the struggle
and interfered, and while the master was trying to
explain that the person he sought was his slave, the
girl slipped away and came to my house. We kept
her several daj's and prepared her for traveling,
then I bought her a ticket to Detroit and took her
in my carriage, in broad daylight, to Cumminsville,
where I put her on the train."

With a few more remarks, the conversation closed
and would soon have been forgotten, but a reporter

586

REMINISCENCES.

was present listening with professional ear, and
next morning there appeared a lengthy article in a
morning paper, giving an account of it, with much
added and the whole embellished.

Connelly resumed his place on the Commercial
staff, and came to board. at our house, where he was
joined by his family, who had removed to Pittsbui^
during his absence.

At this time there was a large anti-slavery
element in Ohio. Abhorrence of the Fugitive
Slave law and its penalties was rapidly increasing
among the better class of citizens, and the feeling
had become very strong against making Ohio a
hunting ground for Southern slaveholders ; conse-
quently the public sentiment was largely in favor
of Connelly. Ex-Governor Corwin, Judge Stallo,
and other prominent lawyers volunteered to defend
him.

When the United States Court convened and his
trial came on, the court-room was crowded. The
trial lasted several days and was the subject of
unabated interest. After able arguments by the
prominent lawyers who had volunteered to defend
Connelly, and a lengthy charge by the judge, the
jury retired to deliberate and finally brought in a
verdict of guilty. The penalty was as light as the
law allowed — imprisonment for twenty days and a
fine of ten dollars.

Connelly was immediately taken to jail, by the
deputy sheriff, to serve out his sentence. As they
passed me where I was standing on the sidewalk, I

CONSELLT IS PRISON.

587

said; "Friend Connelly, I hope thou wilt have a
pleasant time in jail."

"Shut your mouth," said the officer; "you are
not allowed to speak to the prisoner."

"Stop, my good fellow," said I, "thou art a ser-
vant of ours, not a master, and not clothed with so
much authority. "

" It will not be long before I will have you in jail,
too."

"Perhaps that would be a difficult and costly
job,"

I and others of Connelly's friends made arrange-
ments with the jailer to give him a good room and
allow us to furnish it with a bedstead, bedding, a
table, chairs, writing utensils, and other articles
of comfort and convenience. We also stipulated
that he should have good fare, and agreed to pay
his board,

A number of people visited Connelly every day
during his imprisonment. Ladies carried him straw-
berries, pastry and other dainties; the teachers of
the public schools formed a procession and visited
him, and ministers of the different churches called
to see him. The Methodist Conference was in ses-
sion in this city when he was imprisoned, and the
members of it visited him in a body.

The next week the Unitarian Conference met
here, and the members composing it formed a pro-
cession, headed by Horace Mann, and went to the
prison to see Connelly. All these de^onal
showed sympathy with ConncHj
of his imprisonment pass \

588 REMINISCENCES.

The jailer grew tired of locking and unlocking the
door of his room so often, and finally left it open,
that visitors might pass in and out as they pleased.
The fine of ten dollars, which was a part of the
penalty, was never exacted.

Connelly's term of imprisonment expired at noon,
but as the Turners and other societies wished to
form a torchlight procession, and escort him from
jail, the jailer allowed him to remain till night.
The arrangements were all made, and at the ap-
pointed hour, the procession, headed by a band of
music and several carriages, containing Judge Stallo
and other prominent citizens, proceeded to the jail.
A committee appointed conducted Connelly from
the jail to the carriage reserved for him, then the
procession paraded through the principal streets,
and went to Turner Hall, where Connelly delivered
a speech.

A short time afterward a large public hall was
engaged, and Connelly was advertised to deliver a
lecture on the Underground Railroad, the proceeds,
after deducting expenses, to be applied for the
benefit of the road mentioned.

A large and interested audience filled the hall at
the time appointed, and listened attentively to the
address, in which Connelly took the ground that the
Underground Railroad was a Southern institution,
and explained the different principles on which it
was conducted.

"sambo in a tight box."

This story may be related in letters. The follow-

SAMBO IN A BOX. 589

ing appeared -in the Nashville (Tennessee) Union
and American, in April, i860:

A NIGGER-STEALING QUAKER.

The Cincinnati Commercial, of April 18, contains
the. following:

"SAMBO IN A TIGHT BOX.

** Editors Commercial, — In this morning's issue of your paper I
find under the above head a caution administered to me to be care-
ful, after informing the public that a box was forwarded from Nash-
ville, Tennessee, by Adams Express, to my care, and all went
well until the train reached Seymour, Indiana, when the box
burst open, and out dropped a nigger, etc. You go on to state
that yesterday morning Mr. Coffin called for the box, and the
clerk questioned him closely as to its contents, but he 'didn't
know a thing; couldn't guess what was in it.' Then you say:
•Be careful, Friend Levi; thee [thou] musn't tell fibs.' Your
caution is fully appreciated, and in return permit me to suggest
to you to be careful to make no improper insinuations to lead the
public to believe a fib in regard to my complicity in the matter.

" About twelve o'clock on Seventh day, the X4th inst., I
received through the post-office a letter, post-marked Nashville,
Tennessee, dated Nashville, April 11, signed Hannah M. Johnson,
stating that a box would be forwarded by Adams Express to my
care, and wishing me to go to the express office and take charge
of it, stating that the express would arrive at half past ten
o'clock, Saturday night, but did not say what the box contained.
I learned that the express would not arrive till First day morning,
nine o'clock. I went to the office at that time and handed the
letter to the clerk or agent. He informed me that they had
just got a dispatch informing them that a box marked Hannah
M. Johnson, care of Levi Coffin, Cincinnati, had burst open at
Seymour, Indiana, and a nigger rolled out. I informed them that
I did not know Hannah M. Johnson; never heard of her before;
had no knowledge of any box or anything else being shipped to
my care from that direction, until I received that letter which
was before them.

•* No questions were asked me. My statements were voluntary.

S90

REMINISCENCES,

They requested the letter to copy. I gave it to them with the
promise that it be returned to me. They have the letter. The
public is welcome to its contents. Previous to receiving this letter
I have had no correspondence with any one in Tennessee for
more than a year past ; did not know of any person, male or
female, traveling in that direction ; knew nothing of the matter
' in any shape.

** My name and address are well known in the South. It is no
new thing for me to receive consignments of slaves from the
South, generally gentlemen's children to be educated ; but this is
the first case in a tight box, and no instructions whether they
wished him sent to school or not. I am sorry that Sambo did not
get through safely after suffering so long in a tight box. I would
have received him kindly, though I would object to that mode of
traveling as dangerous and decidedly uncomfortable.

«* Levi Coffin.
Cincinnati, April i6, i860.*'

After copying the above from the Cincinnati
Commercial^ the editor of the Nashville Union and
American made the following scurrilous comment,
trying to use Quaker language :

** Friend Levi, thee ought to have studied thy subject a little
better, and then perhaps thee would not have involved thyself in
such palpable contradictions. Thee never heard of Hannah M.
Johnson, yet thou wert quick to * run after the strange woman,'
to pay the express charges upon her box, the contents of which

•

thee knew nothing about unless thy instinct told thee. Verily
hath it been said that the man given to prevarication ought to
have a good memory, and be able at least to tell a straight story.

«* Thee ought to have conned this lesson over well, Friend Levi,
before thee did pen thy communication to the editor who gave
thee such good advice. Thy worst enemy could not desire thee
to write a book after reading thy communication. Thee knew
too much about that strange woman and her mission among thy
Southern friends, and never did criminal more surely betray his
guilt. Thee knew that the box shipped thee by the strange
woman contained a chattel, which the law, both human and

THE SAMBO CASE.

591

divine, declared to be stolen, and which could not be received by
thee without making thyself a party to the crime.

**Wc fear from thy avowal of sorrow that * Sambo did not get
through safe,' that thou art a most hardened reprobate, and that
a lecture upon the evil tendency of thy practice would accomplish
about as much as a moonbeam falling upon an iceberg. But there
is one thing, Friend Levi, to which we wish to call thy especial
attention. It is clear from thy confession that thou didst have an
intrigue with this Hannah M. Johnson, and as that * kind-hearted
individual ' charged and received from Sambo, seventy dollars in
cash and a double-case silver watch, according to his statement,
we put it to thee whether it is not thy duty to make Sambo whole
again in his purse? The sincerity of thy compassion for the
nigger is now put to the test."

To which I wrote the following reply :

"To THE Editors OF THE Nashville Union and American— I
find in your paper of 20th ult., after publishing my card or state-
ment of facts as published in the Cincinnati * Commercial,' a scur-
rilous comment in which you make some very grave charges. Ab-
sence from home has prevented me from noticing them sooner, but
your Southern honor can not deny me the right to be heard in reply.
It seems that thou hast found it in thy heart to call in question
my plain statement of facts, and to accuse me of contradictions,
prevarications, etc. Then thou proceeds to make positive asser-
tions without the slightest foundation to build upon, unless thy
instincts told thee, and they are not apt to dictate untruth. I am
not aware of my veracity being questioned by those who are
acquainted with me ; hence thy comment will have about as much
effect as a moonbeam falling upon an iceberg, as thou supposed.
And thou hast blundered into another truth, perhaps not inten-
tionally. Thou sayest : * Thy worst enemy could not desire thee
to write a book.' True ; thou didst not desire Helper, of North
Carolina, to write a book, and I should not suppose for a moment
that thou wouldst desire me to write a book. I am a Southern
man, born and raised in the State of North Carolina ; have
traveled in most of the Southern States, and have connections
and acquaintances in several of them ; and, if I were to write a
book, I might expose some of the abominations of slavery, that
would not be pleasant to thy ear. The extent of the evils of

592

REMINISCENCES,

slavery, and its demoralizing effects upon the white population of
the South, can not be written even by a Southerner. I am
opposed to the whole system of slavery, in all its heinous forms,
and conscientiously believe it to be a sin against God and a crime
against man to chatclize a human being, and reduce God's image
to the level of a brute, to be bought and sold in the market as
cattle or swine. I am also opposed to amalgamation, and the
whole system of concubinage, which are the legitimate fruits of
slavery, and prominent evils growing out of it. It is also well
known in the South, as well as in the North, by all who are
acquainted with me, that I am opposed to any interference with
slavery, or the institutions of slave States, except by moral suasion.
I am a firm believer in the doctrines and precepts of the gospel,
which teaches us to do unto others as we would that they should
do unto us ; and to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, etc. ; but
does not make any distinction of color. Now, if the editor of the
Nashville * Union and American ' should be so unfortunate as to
be reduced to slavery (for color is no protection in the South),
and should he employ Hannah M. Johnson, or somebody else, to
put him in a tight box and consign him to me, he may be assured
that I will receive him kindly, and feed him if he should be
hungry ; for it is not in my nature to be unkind to the least or
the poorest of the human family. But I would advise some other
mode of conveyance as more safe, and that Hannah should pay
express charges, as I suppose she did in the case of Sambo ; for
I heard no account of express charges until I saw thy false asser-
tion, that I was quick to run after the strange woman to pay
express charges, etc.

**Thou hast said that Hannah received of Sambo seventy dollars
in cash, and a double-cased silver watch, for her services ; and
thou hast no doubt relieved thy mind of a burden by suggesting
that I should make Sambo whole again in his purse. But, as 1
presume that Hannah M. Johnson is a citizen of Nashville, or was
a delegate to the Charleston Convention, and entirely unknown
to me, it does not strike me very forcibly that I should be
accountable for her misconduct, for if her motives had been
purely benevolent, she would not have charged Sambo anything.
But there is one thing, my dear friend, to which I wish to call thy
especial attention. I am very often called upon by slaveholders
froni the South, who come to Ohio, to liberate a portion of their

THE SAMBO CASE.

593

slaves, generally their own children and sometimes their slave
mothers, for assistance and advice in regard to locating them,
etc., all of which 1 have given cheerfully without charge, and in
addition to this, there have been quite a number of slave children
from several different Southern States placed under my care to be
educated, generally by their white fathers or their agents, and in
some instances by judges and lawyers — men of honor and high stan<l-
ing in their own country ; and as I am left minus in several cases,
and in one case from Tennessee where the bill is not paid, does it
not strike thy mind very forcibly that it would be just as fair and
right for thee to make me whole in my purse for money that I
have paid out of my pocket for some of your own citizens, as for
me to make Sambo whole in his purse? Thy generosity is now
put to the test. Levi Coffin.

" Cincinnati, 5th mo. 12, i86a*'

5^4 REMINISCENCES.

CHAPTER XVIII.

LAST WORK ON THE UNDERGROUND RAILROAD THE

PRINCE OF WALES — BEGINNING OF THE WAR —

KIRBY smith's THREATENED RAID RESCUE OF A

SLAVE GIRL BY TWO UNION SOLDIERS — ^THE KEN-
TUCKY POLICY AND COLONEL UTLEY's ACTION.

BUSINESS on the Underground Railroad con-
tinued brisk up to the time of the breaking
out of the war, and for a year afterward — before
slaves were received and protected inside our mili-
tary lines. The friends of the fugitives had increased
in number, and though my time and attention were
still heavily taxed, I had less difficulty in raising
means to pay their passage, or in finding safe shel-
ter for them among the white people when it was
necessary to divide the companies, as was frequently
the case. T often raised money, bought tickets, and
forwarded the fugitives by rail to Detroit, Sandusky,
or some other point on the lakes, when it was not
likely that hunters were ahead of them. I gener-
ally started ihem on the evening train, that they
might make the greater part of their journey in the
night, and in every instance they arrived safely at
their destination. I had friends at the other end of

WORKING FOR THE COLORED PEOPLE. 595

the line who generally notified me of the safe arrival
of passengers by way of the Underground or Upper-
ground Railways.

THE PRINCE OF WALES.

It will be remembered that when the Prince of
Wales was in America he visited a number of our
principal cities, after he had been to Canada. When
in Cincinnati, he was escorted about the city to see
the most important and interesting places, and in
his progress through the streets, he and his suite
were conducted up Broadway to Franklin Street,
and west along Franklin, in front of Woodward
College, to Main Street. This course gave them
two front views of my house, which stood on the
southwest corner of Broadway and Franklin. The
piazzas fronting on Broadway, and all the windows
in both fronts of that large house, were filled with
our boarders and the neighbors who had come to
get a good view of the Prince. My wife and I
stood in front, on the piazza. The Prince, who was
riding in an open carriage, took off his hat and
made a graceful bow as he passed our house.
Some of our company wondered why he should be
brought through our quiet locality, for it was quite
unusual for public guests to be conducted through
that neighborhood of family dwelling-houses.

Others replied: "It is not at all strange; the
Prince has been to Canada and seen the terminus
of the Underground Railroad, and of cpursc he
wished to see this end of it, and as this house is
the principal depot, he wished to take a fair view

596 RKMINJSCENCKS,

of the premises so that he could make a correct
report to the Queen.*'

This explanation seemed satisfactory to the com-
pany, and caused a hearty laugh among us.

THE BEGINNING OF THE WAR.

With the excitement that attended the breaking
out of the rebellion in the spring of 186 1, there
came a new feeling, in the free States, in regard to
slavery. The odium that had been attached to
abolitionism began to die away; there was no
longer such disgrace in professing its sentiments or
danger in aiding the fugitives. Much of my work
for them was now done boldly and above board —
or, I might say, above ground.

When the first news of the war reached me, I
said : **This war will never end while slavery lasts,"
but I was told that the rebellion would soon be put
down, leaving slavery untouched. The popular
religious denominations were still under the influ-
ence of that pro-slavery power which had so long
had the ascendency. Prayer-meetings were held in
all the churches to pray that the rebellion might be
put down and the awful calamities of war averted.
Acknowledgments were made of our sins, such as
intemperance and Sabbath-breaking, and the for-
giveness of God was implored, and He was asked
to restore peace and brotherly love to our land ; but
the sin of slavery was not mentioned, not a prayer
for the poor suffering slaves was heard in these
meetings in Cincinnati. The exciting subject of
slayery must not be touched.

PRO^LA VERY MEN STILL ALIVE 5^7

A union prayer-meeting for business men was es-
tablished in a central church on Fourth Street. The
sessions were held from eight o'clock to nine every
morning, and, besides prayers, there were brief ex-
hortations. These meetings were largely attended.
They were led, in turn, by prominent religionists
who acted each in his appointed time as presiding
officer, and with the tap of his mallet timed the
speaker or stopped him if he touched upon any con-
troverted point or exciting question. The subject
of slavery must not be alluded to ; it might hurt
the feelings of some good brother in the meeting.

About this time that noble friend to the slave,
John G. Fee, of Berea, Kentucky, came to the city
on business and stopped at our house, as he gener-
ally did when in Cincinnati. He asked me if I had
attended those morning prayer-meetings. I said,
" I have attended but one; I have very little faith
in those meetings. The real cause of the war is not
alluded to ; the poor slaves are not remembered in
their prayers, and the sin of slavery is not men-
tioned. The same pro-slavery spirit that has ruled
the church so long still exists. This war has been
permitted by the Almighty to come upon us as a
judgment and the North must suffer as well as the
South, for we are partners in the national sin. I
believe that this war will not end until the great sin
of slavery is removed from our land."

Friend Fee heartily united with me in these sen-
timents. He had preached and prayed and labored
for many years in Kentucky, in behalf of the poor
slave, and had suffered mob violence and persecu-

5g8 REMINISCENCES,

tion of every kind, for doing what he believed he
had been appointed by his Divine Master to do.

The next morning we went together to the
business men's prayer-meeting. It was largely
attended ; many prayers and short speeches were
made, and every sin but that of slavery was men-
tioned. Toward the close of the meeting John G.
Fee rose and spoke of the real cause of the war
— slavery, that great and crying sin of the nation,
to which no one had alluded. The chairman of the
meeting at once brought down his mallet, as a
signal for him to stop, but Fee continued to speak,
for a few moments, with great earnestness and
power. His words seemed to create a stir and
uneasiness with many in the meeting. When a few
more sharp taps of the mallet had been given, he
took his seat, but immediately kneeled in prayer,
and prayed with such earnestness and power that he
was not interrupted, although he brought before the
Lord the great sin of slavery and alluded to it as
the cause of the terrible judgment that was hang-
ing over us. At the close of the meeting, Horace
Bushnell, a minister and a warm friend to the slave,
came up and taking Fee by the hand said : "Brother
Fee, you drove in the nail and then you clinched it,
and they can't get it out."

The war excitement still grew stronger, and party
feuds and distinctions were for awhile forgotten
in the all-absorbing subject. The rebellion in the
South increased, one State after another seceded,
except Kentucky, which professed to occupy neu-
tral ground, and all loyal or Union men were united

KIRBV SMITHES RAID. 599

on the same platform. By the South, all Northern
men were termed Yankees or abolitionists, and
among us much of the odium formerly attached to
abolitionism died out. It was now "Union" or
"Rebel," but there was still a class of men in the
North who were connected in business with the
South, or had interests in slaves, who sympathized
with that section and threw the weight of their influ-
ence with the rebellion. This troublesome element
in the North doubtless served to prolong the war.

KIRBY smith's THREATENED RAID.

The war excitement was greatly increased Avhen
the news came that the rebel General Kirby Smith
had approached near Cincinnati with a large army,
and great preparations were at once made for
defense ; the city was at once put under martial law.
The wires flashed the news all over the country and
special trains were bringing in soldiers from all parts
of the State. The Mayor of the city issued a proc-
lamation requiring every man, without distinction
of age, color, or country, to report at the voting
places in the various wards, to be organized into
military companies for the protection of the city.
The Governor of the State had also issued a procla-
mation requiring all volunteer military companies to
rally at once to our assistance. Arms and ammuni-
tion were ordered here from other points. Cannon
were placed on Mount Adams, and the high hills
above and below the city, in position to rake the
river if the rebel army attempted to cross. It was
feared that they would shell the city, and that a

6oo REMINISCENCES,

general conflagration would be the result. The
excitement pervaded all classes of society. A num-
ber of women and children were sent out of the
city for safety, and money from the vaults of the
banks was transferred to banks at other points.
General Wallace, of Indianapolis, arrived in the
city, with a number of Indiana soldiers, and took
command. Companies of volunteers were arriving
almost every hour. Wherever the telegraph had
spread the alarm, men of all classes dropped their
business and rallied to the defense of their State.
Judges, lawyers, preachers, professors, and students
of colleges, were in these companies, as well as
farmers armed with their squirrel-guns and other
weapons that were at command. We soon had an
army of over one hundred thousand men in Cincin-
nati — many of them raw, untrained soldiers, without
any preparation for camping or supplies of pro-
visions. These were called '* Squirrel Hunters,"
but they were fully in earnest, and determined to
protect the city against the rebel army that
threatened our destruction. Preparations were at
once made to feed our protectors, and the ladies
of each ward did their duty nobly. Tables were
spread in the market-houses and parks, and (in
some wards) on the public side-walks, and bounti-
fully furnished with provisions by the ladies — many
of whom attended as waiters. Public halls and
other places were used as headquarters and lodg-
ing places for the soldiers. In our ward a table was
spread on the side-walk of Franklin Street, from
Broadway to Sycamore — in front of our house and

WAR EXCITEMENT IN CINCINNATI, 60 1

Woodward College — where five hundred could be
fed at one time. It was supplied with provisions
for several days by the ladies of the ninth ward.
Our basement kitchen was made the depository for
the victuals between meals ; and our large cooking-
stove was used to furnish hot coffee and tea. At
that table were fed the Oberlin students, and other
abolitionists from the northern part of Ohio, many
of whom we knew. After meals, they frequently
formed in line in front of our house and sang
•*John Brown," and other anti-slavery songs — the
whole company joining in the chorus. Nearly every
night, while this great excitement lasted, we had
sick soldiers to care for. Many of our acquaintances
from the country were among the new volunteers,
or "Squirrel Hunters," and not being used to sol-
dier life, a number of them became sick. We took
them in and cared for them ; although we did not
believe in war and fighting, we always considered it
right to take care of the sick and feed the hungry,
and in this way we did our full share by the soldiersr
To some of the young men who had none, my wife
gave blankets for use in camp.

One morning one of our city officers, with a posse
of men, came to my house and demanded to know
why I had not reported for service at the place des-
ignated by the Mayor in his proclamation. He
said he was instructed to visit all in that ward who
had not reported, and if they refused to comply to
compel them to report. I told him that I should
not comply, and he said: **Then I shall be obliged
to compel you to do so."

6o2 REMINISCENCES,

I replied: "Thou might find that to be a difficult
job. I am a non-resistant, and thou would have to
carry me to the place, and that would look ugly."

The officer laughed, and said he guessed I would
go without carrying.

I said: **If thou wast to get me there it might be
very difficult to compel me to report for service in
the army. I could not take a gun and go out to
shoot anybody ; that is contrary to the spirit and
doctrines of the gospel. Christ instructed us to
love our enemies and to do good to them that hate
us, and I am a full believer in his teachings. I can
not comply with the Mayor's proclamation. General
Wallace is now in command in the city, and he will
not require such service of me, for he knows my
principles."

The officer left me, and I was not again troubled.
Soon after this a certain boundary was set in the
city that none were allowed to pass, without per-
mission, for some time. Pickets were stationed
along the line to enforce the restriction. I happened
to have business across the line, and was permitted
to pass and repass when I wished to do so.

When the alarm first came that the rebel army
was advancing toward Cincinnati, and a number of
frightened women went, with their children, to the
country, a few of our lady boarders partook of the
panic, and packed their trunks and left the city.
They, together with others of our friends, seemed
anxious for us to close our house and go out of the
city for safety. Some of them said that our house
would be the first one destroyed, for many of the

WAR EXCITEMENT IN CINCINNATI. 603

Kentuckians knew where it was, and that it was a
depot of the Underground Railroad. I laughed at
their fears, and told them that I felt no alarm ; I had
never run from danger, and if our friends and neigh-
bors were to suffer I would stay and suffer with
them. '* Besides,** I said, "we may be needed
here to help care for the sick and wounded ; though
I do not believe the rebel army will cross the river.
There is a large army gathered here, and they will
not run into the lion's mouth."

It proved to be not very long till the rebels, hav-
ing discovered the formidable force here, and the
great preparations for defense, fell back some dis-
tance from the river. Neither was it long till our
services were needed in caring for sick and wounded
soldiers brought here from various Southern battle-
fields, for whom suflficient hospital room could not
be provided.

During the excitement our house was more like
a military post than a depot of the Underground
Railroad. We had a number of boarders, and all
the men armed themselves and reported for service,
in obedience to the Mayor's proclamation. They
placed their guns by their bedsides, and when an
alarm was sounded on the fire-bells in the night,
they sprang up, seized their weapons and hurried to
their posts. These signals were to be given when
the rebel army attempted to cross the river, and the
city was kept in a state of constant excitement,
though the alarms proved false. They were sounded,
no doubt, to call the people together quickly, and
to try their metal.

6o4 REMINISCENCES.

The German element was strong in our city.
Many of the men were veteran soldiers who had
seen service in their own country, and well under-
stood military tactics.

The negro element, on the contrary, was utterly
ignorant of all kinds of drill. Many of the colored
men did not understand why they should be called
upon, having never before been recognized as citi-
zens, and neglected to report; some of them were
alarmed and hid themselves. The police hunted
them out and forced them into the ranks. One day
a posse of men came to our house and asked if there
were any colored people about the place who had
not reported for service. I said, **Yes, there are
several colored persons about our house,*' and in-
vited the captain to come in. He followed me
through the hall into the kitchen, where we had two
or three colored women employed. I introduced
them to the officer, saying, ** These are all the col-
ored people we have at present.*' He laughed and
said he did not want women, and asked if these were
Underground Railroad passengers. I said: '*No,
but if they were you would not let the rebels have
them, would you?"

He replied: **No, sir," and left the house.

My wife reproved me for being mischievous.

Judge Dickson, who was the colored people's
friend and in whom they had entire confidence,
organized a separate company of colored men.
They rallied willingly to him. A pontoon bridge
was made across the Ohio River, between Cincin-
nati and Covington, and a large army marched over

WAR EXCITEMENT IN CINCINNATI. 6oS

into Kentucky. A few miles back of Covington
they went into camp and made great preparations
for defense, throwing up breastworks and extending
their lines so as to prevent the approach of the
enemy to the city. Colonel Dickson's colored regi-
ment w^a nr irched over to aid in making the forti-
fications, and was said to be the most orderly and
faithful regiment that crossed. After they were
released and marched back to the city, the men
contributed money to buy a fine sword, which they
presented to Colonel Dickson as a testimonial of
their regard for him; accompanied by an able speech
from one of their company selected for the occasion.
The rebel army had retreated southward, and the
excitement that had been so high in this city seemed
to die away, but we were constantly reminded that
war was going on. Regiments of volunteers, regu-
larly organized and equipped, from Indiana and
other Northwestern States, passed through this city
on their way to the South and East. Among the
Indiana companies wefe many noble young men of
our acquaintance — some of them our relatives — and
our feelings were continually harassed with the
thought that they might never return. It was not
long till the terrible battles of Fort Donelson, on
the Cumberland River, and Pittsburg Landing, on
the Tennessee River, were fought. St^mboats
from this place, with doctors and surgeons on board,
hastened to the scenes of carnage to aid in caring
for and removing the wounded. They were brought
to Cincinnati, but sufficient hospital room had not
been provided for them. A meeting was held by

6o6 REMINISCENCES.

the citizens, and a committee appointed to call on
families and ascertain how many would be received
in private houses. We were called upon and agreed
to take eight of the wounded soldiers in our house
and care for them. Many others volunteered to
take a greater or less number, and next morning the
names of those who thus volunteered, and the num-
ber they agreed to receive, were published in the
morning papers. The committee succeeded, how-
ever, in renting a large house for a hospital, and
only two soldiers were brought to our house. We
nursed them carefully until they were able to go to
their homes. At various times we took in sick sol-
diers and cared for them until they were able to
travel, feeling that it was our duty to do so.

RESCUE OF A SLAVE GIRL BY TWO UNION SOLDIERS.

Among the regiments that collected at Cincinnati,
during the time of Kirby Smith's threatened raid
into Ohio, was one from Racine, Wisconsin, which,
from the well-known anti-slavery sentiments of the
commander, Colonel Utley, and the men composing
it, had received the name of the Abolition regiment.
While they were in camp near Nicholasville, Ken-
tucky, a young mulatto slave girl, about eighteen
years old, of fine personal appearance, was sold by
her master, for the sum of seventeen hundred dol-
lars, to a man who designed placing her in a house
of ill-fame at Lexington, Kentucky. As soon as
the poor girl learned of the fate in store for her, she
fled from her master, and making her way to the
camp of the Twenty -Second Wisconsin volunteers—

A SLA VE QIRL RESCUED, goj

the regiment referred to — told her story, and asked
protection. The true-hearted men, to whom she
applied for help, resolved to aid her, though the law
did not then allow Northern troops to protect fugi-
tive slaves who came within their lines.

Her master soon came to the camp in pursuit of
her, but the men secreted her, and he did not find
her. The colonel now wished to send her to a place
of safety, and two soldiers volunteered to conduct
her to Cincinnati. One of their officers told them
that he knew me personally, and recommended
them to bring the fugitive to my house. She was
dressed in soldier's clothes and hidden in a sutler's
wagon, under some hay. The two men dressed
themselves in citizen's clothing, and having learned
the password that would open a way for them
through the picket lines, took their seats in the
wagon, and drove out of camp about one o'clock at
night. They traveled almost without stopping until
the distance — more than a hundred miles — was trav-
ersed, and they reached Cincinnati in safety.

They came immediately to my house, and were
ushered into the sitting-room, accompanied by their
charge, who presented the appearance of a mulatto
soldier boy. As there was other company present,
they called me to one side and related their story.
The "soldier boy" was given into my wife's care,
and was conducted upstairs to her room. Next
morning he came down transformed into a young
lady of modest manners and pleasing appearance,
who won the interest of all by her intelligence and
amiable character.

6o8 'REMimSCENCES.

The party remained a day or two. to recover from
the fatigue of their journey, and during the inter-
val visited a daguerrean gallery, where they had
their pictures taken, the lady sitting, the soldiers
standing, one on either side, with their revolvers
drawn, showing their readiness thus to protect her,
even at the cost of their own lives. Not content
with escorting her to a free State, these brave young
men telegraphed to Racine, Wisconsin, and made
arrangements for their friends there to receive her,
and I took her one evening in my carriage to the
depot, accompanied by her protectors, and put her
on board the tram with a through ticket for Racine,
via Chicago. She was nicely dressed, and wore a
vail, presenting the appearance of a white lady. I
conducted her to a seat in a first-class car, her sol-
dier friends having previously taken leave of her in
the carriage. As the train moved off they lifted
their hats to her, aud she waved her handkerchief
in good-by. They afterward remarked to me, that
it seemed one of the happiest moments of their
lives when they saw her safely on her way to a place
beyond the reach of pursuers. They had done a
noble unselfish deed, and were rewarded by that
approval of conscience which contains the most
unalloyed joy of life.

After their return to camp, I received the follow-
ing letter from one of them :

** In Camp, Near Nicholasvu.le, Kentucky, |

** November 17, 1862. j

"Friend L. Coffin: As the Lord prospered us on our mis-
sion to the land of freedom, so has He prospered us in our

RESCUE OF A SLA VE GIRL.

609

retttm to our regiment. At five o'clock on Friday evening, after
a ride of three days, we arrived at our camp near Nicholasville;
and you would have rejoiced to hear the loud cheering and hearty
welcome that greeted us on our arrival. 6ur long delay had
occasioned many fears as to our welfare ; but when they saw us
approach, the burden of their anxiety was gone, and they wel-
comed us by one hearty outburst of cheers. The colonel was full
of delight, and when he heard of the Friend L. Coffin, who had
so warmly welcomed us to the land of freedom, he showered a
thousand blessings on your head. The way was opened, and we
were directed to you by an unseen but ever-present Hand. The
Lord was truly with us upon that journey.

•* Your humble friend,

"Jesse L. Berch."

The name of the other soldier was Frank M.
Rockwell. Both were young men of true principles
and high character, and, as representatives of the
solid worth of Wisconsin's noble sons, were men
that their State could regard with pride.

I received a letter from Jesse L. Berch, a few
months ago, making inquiries in regard to a book
which he had heard I had published. When I re-
plied, stating that my book was not yet published,
I asked for news of the slave girl whom he had aided
to rescue. He responded, giving information of her
safe rirrival in Racine, and of her residence there for
a f<;vv months, concluding by saying, ''Afterward
she married a young barber and moved into Illinois,
and I have never been able to ascertain her where-
ab'/uts since I came from the army, though Mr.
Rockwell and myself have tried repeatedly.

This young man has kindly loaned me a book
fntilled **The Star Corps," by G. S. Bradley, chap-
lain of the Twenty-Second Wisconsin Volunteers,

6 10 REMINISCENCES,

from which I cull various extracts relating to Col-
onel Utley, the commander of that regiment, and
his combat with ^ the slave power in Kentucky.

THE KENTUCKY POLICY, AND COLONEL UTLEY's ACTION.

** Colonel Utley, the commander of the Wisconsin abolition
regiment, was the chief actor in an occurrence which, though
seemingly not very important at the time, had the effect of pro-
ducing a radical change in the attitude of the Government toward
contrabands. At the beginning of the war the policy of North-
erners disclaimed any intention to disturb the 'peculiar institu-
tion' of the South. It was not a war against slavery, said all the
representatives of the Government then. The commanders of
Union troops, when they first entered the South, would not
receive or protect fugitive slaves who sought refuge in their
lines ; some sent them back ; others allowed their masters to come
and take them. But this policy was very repugnant to some true-
hearted Northerners who had all their lives sympathized with the
slaves and hated the bondage that held them in thralldom ; and
they scorned the half measures dictated by policy."

The following order was issued just before Colonel
Utley's command left Camp Wells :

«* Headquarters, Division Army of Kentucky, ]

«* North Williamstown, Kentucky, October 15, 1862. |

"General Order Number Five. — All contrabands except offi-
cers' servants will be left behind when the division moves for-
ward to-morrow morning. Public transportation will in no case
be furnished to officers' servants. Commanders of regiments and
detachments will see this order promptly enforced. By order of

** Brigadier Genkral Q. A. Gilmurk,
** W. L. M. BuKGEK, Captain and Acting Assistant General,
*»P. B. Parsons, Lieutenant and Acting Assistant Adjutant Gen-
eral, Second Brigade.
** [Official.] "

A few days afterward, while at Camp Jones, Col-
onel Utley received the following:

FUGITIVES IN THE ARMY 6 1 1

" Jones, October i8, 1862.
••Colonel, — You will at once send to my quarters the four con-
trabands, John, Abe, George and Dick, known to belong to good
loyal citizens. They are in your regiment, or were this morning.
•* Your obedient servant,

««Q. A. GiLLMORE, Brigadier General.
"To Colonel W. L. Utley, Commanding Twenty-Second Wis-
consin Volunteers."

To this order the colonel returned the following
reply :

•* Headquarters Twenty-second Reg*t Wisconsin Vols., |

"October 18, 1862. )

" General Q. A. Gillmore:

"Dear Sir, — 1 have just received your orders to deliver up cer-
tain contrabands said to be in my regiment. Permit me to say
that I recognize your authority in all matters pertaining to the
k>ilitary and to the movements of the army ; but I do not consider
this as belonging to that department. I recognize no authority
on the subject of delivering up contrabands, save that of the Pres-
ident of the United States. You are, no doubt, conversant with
the proclamation of the President of September 22, 1862, and
with the law of Congress on the subject. In conclusion, I will say
that I had nothing to do with their coming into camp, and I will
have nothing to do with sending them out.

" Very respectfully your obedient servant,

"Wm. L. Utley."

" The colonel was immediately summoned to headquarters. He
went, and the interview between him and the general was short
and spicy. Said the general : " I sent you an order this evening.**

"The colonel replied: * Yes, sir, and I refused to obey it.*

"The general thought he must be obeyed, and said he should
dispose of the matter at once.

"The colonel thought it would not be settled in a remarkably
summary manner.

"The general finally said that he should repeat the order in the
morning.

"To this the colonel replied : * General, to save y% u the trouble

6 1 2 REMINISCENCES.

and folly of such a coarse, let me say I shall refuse to comply in
the same positive manner.*

**The morning came, but the order was not received. Instead
of an arrest, the colonel was put in command of the brigade,
with orders to protect the supply train to march to Georgetown

** The colonel afterward call on the general, and was informed
that the act of Congress and the proclamation of the President
had been more carefully examined since the affair at Camp Jones,
and that a different policy would be instituted. No more con*
trabands would be returned, and those coming into our lines
would be organized into a brigade by themselves for appropriate
services.

*' Regiments from Ohio and Michigan, in camp near the same
place, sustained Colonel Utley in the position which he took.
The affair created considerable excitement, occasioned much dis-
cussion, and proved a triumph of principle."

The following account of Colonel Utley's conflict
with a slaveholder, I take from the book referred to:

"When we left Lexington, we comforted ourselves with the
hope that the slavery question, which had proved a constant and
grievous annoyance from the time we entered the State, would
trouble us no more, but in this we have been sadly disappointed.
The slave catchers follow us day and night, and seem determined
to crush us, if in their power to do so. It is not, however, so
much the desire for the * nigger' himself, which drives them to
desperation, as the necessity of breaking down the principle upon
which we stand. The negro is a personal and comparatively tri-
fling matter, and probably we have a smaller number of them
than any other regiment in Kentucky, but the principle involves
the position of the State.

"On the very day after arriving at this place — Nicholasville—
the colonel was informed that a gentleman, outside the lines,
wished to see him.

"The colonel remarked : * Another negro catcher, I presume.*

** On approaching the lines, a large portly old gentleman
appeared, lying back in an elegant carriage, with a negro servant
for driver in front. He informed the colonel that he was in pur-
suit of a boy, who was in his regiment, at the same time present-

FUGITIVES IN THE ARMY.

613

ing an order from General GUlmore, directing that he be per-
mitted to enter the lines and get the boy.

••The colonel coolly informed him that such orders were not cur-
cent in his regiment. The old gentleman then went on to say that
be, too, was opposed to slavery ; that he was the only survivor
among the 'honorables' who voted for the famous Missouri Com-
promise, and that he had written an essay against slavery and in
favor of emancipation, which was eagerly sought after by the
President at the present time. Said the colonel : * If you had done
these things honestly, and from principle, it would certainly have
been very commendable ; but, sir, your mission here to-day gives
the lie to all of these professions. I do not permit nigger-hunters
to ransack my regiment. If you will drive back into town, and
return at three o'clock p. M., I will look through the regiment,
and if I find such a boy and he is willing to go with you, I pledge
you my honor that you shall have him.* He reluctantly con-
sented, and turned his horse toward the village.

** After he left, the colonel found the boy, who frankly acknowl-
edged that he belonged to the old gentleman.

•*The little fellow then gave us a tale of sorrow, and that with
such an air of truthfulness and intelligence as astonished those
that listened to it. And when at last, he drew up his diminutive
little figure, called upon us to see what beating and starving had
done for him, and cried: * See me; I am almost nineteen years
old — what am I ? and now they beat me because I am no larger,
and can do no more ; ' moisture was seen to gather in the col-
onel's eyes, and he left the tent with a significant determination
on his brow. Before reaching his tent, he met the old slave-
hunter returning long before the appointed lime, so eager was he
for his prey.

•• • Have you found the boy ? ' were the first words to tremble on
the old man's anxious lip.

•* *Sir,' said the colonel, fixing his * wicked, look ' upon him, •!
have found a little yellow boy who says he belongs to a man in
Lexington, who hired him out to a brutal Irishman for fifty dol-
lars per year. The Irishman, never having seen him, was dissatis-
fied, he being so much smaller than he anticipated for a boy of
nineteen, and as his master would not take him back, he declared,
with an oath, that he would lick it out of him — that the man
beat him for anything and for nothing — that he had been to his

6i4

REMINISCENCES.

master many times, and told him he could not stand it. His
master would say; **Go ^ack, you dog."

** * He also says he showed his master his neck, with the skin
torn ofT, where the Irishman had tied a rope around it, and
dragged him about. And yet his master would give him no pro-
tection had commenced hiring him out when only five years of
age, and had left him there ever since, taking all his wages. He
says that he has been beaten and worked and starved till there wai
nothing left of him, and that he was then beaten for not being
higger. He also says that he endured it till he could no longer,
and fled. He lived on black walnuts till the snow came, and he
was obliged to seek shelter somewhere. He sought protection
from several regiments, but could gain no admission till he came
to this. Now, sir, is that your boy ? Are you the fiend of a mas-
ter of whom he speaks ? You, who came to me boasting of your
wonderful works in the cause of the oppressed? I say, sir, is that
your boy ? Are you that master ? *

** These declarations fell with terrible force upon the old gentle-
man's trembling nerves. It was some time before he could
answer, but finally faintly replied : * It is my nigger, but niggers
will lie.*

«*The colonel then told him that they would go and seethe
boy. When we arrived at the quarters, the little fellow, instead
of shrinking away from his presence, walked out with a firm step,
and meekly but boldly said :
• ** * How do you do, massa?'

**The colonel said to him: *This man claims you as his prop-
erty, and says you ran away and left him.*

** * Yes, sah,* said the little fellow, and then he proceeded to
rehearse the whole story in a calm, respectful, but decided man-
ner. The master struggled in vain to resist the force of the
simple tale. The following questions and answers passed between
the master and the slave :

** * Have I not always treated you well?'

** * No, massa, you have not.*

** * How so, sir?'

** * When I went to you for protection from those who beat me,
you refused to give it, and drove me back like a dog.*

** * But did I not tell you that I would take you away ? *

** * Yes, massa, but you never did it.*

FUGITIVE SLAVES IN THE ARMY, 6lS

*' Ah ! it was a beautiful sight to see that little abused slave con-
front so nobly that proud, bloated, aristocratic slaveholder. The
Lord was with the weak, and gave him power to confound the
mighty.

•• The colonel then asked the boy if he was willing to go home
with his master. He replied: * No, sir,* and that *no, sir,* went
to the heart of every loyal man who heard it. There he stood,
that boy who came into our lines cold, barefooted, ragged and
hungry, amidst a dreary snow-storm, asking food and shelter and
raiment, after having spent days and nights in the woods, living
upon black walnuts. Was he to be returned to slavery ?

••Turning to Judge Robertson, the colonel said: *I don't think
you can get that boy. If you think you can, there he is, try it.
I shall have nothing to do with it.*

••This gentleman slave-hunter was no less a person than the
Chief Justice of the State, said to be the most learned jurist in
Kentucky. He will be likely to remember the scathing which he
received from a Wisconsin colonel for some time. I regret that
the whole North could not have heard it.

••The colonel was threatened with Kentucky laws, but he
thought it might be profitable to his country, and the cause in
which he was engaged, were he even sacrificed, did that rend the
delusive vail and permit the- nation to look in upon Kentucky as
she is.

••The colonel intimated to the judge that he preferred that he
should leave the camp, lest an excitement should be created
among the * boys.* The idea of leaving without his nigger was
evidently a painful one, and he was inclined to argue the case.
State subjects were dropped, and the conversation became at once
rich and animating. To an intimation from the judge that we
were a set of 'nigger stealers,' the colonel replied: * You talk
about negro stealing ! Kom, who riot in idleness, and who live
on the sweat and blood of such little creatures as that ! You^
whose costly mansions, and churches even, are built out of the
earnings of women and children, beaten out of them by brutal
overseers! JTom, who hire out little children to brutes who beat
and starve them, stealing from their backs and mouths their small
earnings! You^ who clothe them in rags, and when, at last, they
can stand it no longer, and flee from that protection which you
denied them, you hunt them down like a ravenous beast, to drag

(5 1 6 REMINISCENCES,

them back to their chains, toils and sufferings, that you may eke
out a few more pennies from this last life drop ! Vou talk about
our stealing, when all the crime which we have committed was to
feed, clothe and shelter that poor, half-starved suffering little boy!
Sir, I would rather stand in the place of that slave to-day than in
that of his proud oppressor^ It will be more tolerable for him ia
the day of judgment than for you.'

*<Said the judge: < If that is the way you talk and feel, the
Union can never be saved. You must give up our property.'

"The colonel replied: * If the perpetuity or restoration of the
Union depends upon my delivering to you, with my own hands,
that poor little over-worked creature, dwarfed by your own
avarice, the Union may be cast into hell, with all the nations that
forget God.'

*< He then told him, in his own peculiar scathing style, what
kind of * Union men' he had found in Kentucky. Said he: 'I
have not seen half a dozen who did not damn the President. You
may put all the pure Unionism in Kentucky into one scale, and a
ten-pound nigger baby in the other, and the Unionism will kick
the beam.'

"Before leaving, the old jurist condemned the President's proc-
lamation ; declared that it had no bearing upon Kentucky, and
that it was the policy of generals commanding our armies to
ignore both the action of Congress and the proclamation.

"From our lines the old gentleman drew a very straight line to
the * general's headquarters' and to this place the colonel was
soon summoned, where he enjoyed another interview with the
persevering judge, and several other Kentucky gentlemen.

" Colonel Coburn, now in command of this brigade, arose and
stated in a very gentlemanly manner the policy of comanding
generals in Kentucky, which is simply this: * To look at a slave
in an encampment as in the same condition precisely that he
would be were there no regiment there — that any person has a
right to enter the encampment and take out a fugitive at bis
pleasure.'

"The judge corroborated the statement, and added: 'The
proclamation of the President is to have no consideration in Ken-
tucky.'

" Colonel Utley commenced by saying that he regretted to be
under the necessity of differing from his commanding officer.

FUGITIVES IN THE ARMY. 617

Md hei 'I rererse the Kentucky policy, and hold that the regi*
ment stands precisely as though there was no slavery in Kentucky.
We came here as freemen from a free State, to defend and sup-
port a free government. We have nothing to do with slavery,
and we will never be made nigg^er-catchers. We came at the call
of the President, and still recognize his authority.*

*'It is useless to think of stating all that was said, but you may
be assured that the old slave-catching Felix trembled as he list-
ened to such bold declarations upon the Union-neutral soil of
Kentucky.

**But he could not leave without making one more effort to
obtain the dwarfed human pro{>erty now in danger of being
transformed into a man. Turning to the colonel he said: * Are
you willing that I should go and get my boy ? *

*• * Yes, sir,* said the colonel, *you may go, and I will remain
here.*

*« * Do you think I shall be permitted to take him ? *
" * I think not, but I can not tell.*
•• * Will you send him into some other regiment?*
*• * No, sir! * said the colonel ; * I would see you in hell first.*
** The colonel has since been indicted by a Kentucky court at
Lexington for man-stealing ; but he has not yet been arrested.
It will be remembered that there is now a little spot from Wiscon-
sin down here in the center of Kentucky. How long a more
serious collision with the insulting and heaven-daring slave power
can be avoided, it is difficult to calculate. It is my clear convic-
tion that Judge Robertson's principles correctly and fairly repre-
sent the Unionism of the State.**

The following, which I copy from a letter written
to me by my worthy Wisconsin friend, J. L. Bcrch,
when he sent the book from which this extract is
taken, will inform the reader how this affair ter-
minated :

"The sequel of the whole matter was, that while Colonel Utley
was in the front, beating back the rebel from off the soil of Ken-
tucky, this negro-cripple's owner, Judge Robertson, sued him
(Colonel Utley) in the United States Court for Kentucky, and

^i8

REMINISCENCES.

obtained an exparte judgment against him for one thousand 6ve
hundred dollars and costs, which judgment being duly certified
to the United States Court for Wisconsin, stood against the col-
oners property as a lien thereon, which he would some day have
been compelled to pay, had not Congress, in 1873, pa.Nsed a bill
appropriating money enough to pay the principal of the judg-
ment, leaving Colonel Utley still the costs to pay — some seven
hundred dollars - which he has paid."

WORK AMONG THE FREEDMEN.

619

CHAPTER XIX.

WORK AMONG THE FREEDMEN — VISIT TO CAIRO AND
OTHER POINTS SOUTH — SCENES AND INCIDENTS
AMONG THE CONTRABANDS — CONDITION AND SUF-
FERINGS OF THE COLORED PEOPLE — EFFORTS IN
THEIR BEHALF.

IN the fall of 1862 the terrible civil war had fully
opened west of the mountains. Two large
armies had gathered in Kentucky and Tennessee ;
many bloody battles were fought. A different pol-
icy in regard to the slaves was adopted. They
flocked within the Union lines, as the armies ad-
vanced through Tennessee to Memphis, and other
points in the southwest, and were protected. Many
of the slaveholders fled farther South, taking their
able-bodied slaves with them, and leaving the
women and children, aged and sick ones, to take
care of themselves. In many cases there was noth-
ing for this helpless class to live upon. The two
vast armies that had swept over the country had
consumed all the provisions, and the poor slaves
were left in a suffering condition. Thousands gath-
ered within the Union lines, and were sent to vari-
ous points up the river. Some were brought on

(j2o kEMimSCENCES.

boats to Cincinnati, and left on the wharf without
food and shelter, or means of obtaining them. I
was frequently called upon for aid and assistance.
The colored people here acted nobly, taking as
many as they could and caring for them. Several
thousand contrabands, as the slaves were then
called, were sent to Cairo, Illinois, and placed un-
der charge of J. B. Rogers, chaplain of the Four-
teenth Wisconsin Volunteers. Hearing of the great
destitution and suffering at that place and other
points, I resolved to visit the quarters of the con-
trabands, and learn what their real condition and
wants were.

Cairo is at the mouth of the Ohio, five hundred
miles from Cincinnati. To shorten the distance and
make greater speed, I took the Ohio and Mississippi
Railroad, by way of Vincennes, Indiana. I left
home on the fifth of the twelfth month — December.
At Odin, Illinois, the next morning, I met with my
friends. Job Hadley and his wife, from Hendricks
County, Indiana, who were on their way to Cairo,
on a similar mission. We were greatly rejoiced to
meet, and proceeded on our way together. We
arrived at Cairo that evening, and took quarters at
the Commercial Hotel. Job Hadley and his wife
had left home with the intention of opening a school
among the colored people, if privilege could be ob-
tained, and remaining with them through the win-
ter. No schools had yet been opened among the
contrabands; they were not yet called Freedmen,
as it was before the emancipation proclamation of
President Lincoln. We called that evening on Gen-

WORK AMONG TIIE FREEDMEN. 621

•

eral Tuttle, who had command at that military post.
He received us cordially, and, when he understood
our mission, seemed to be pleased and offered us
any privilege we might wish. In regard to opening
a school, he referred us to J. B. Rogers, the super-
intendent, who had charge of the contrabands*
camp. On the morning of the next day, which was
the Sabbath, we visited the old military barracks
where the contrabands were located. We first went
to the office of J. B. Rogers, the chaplain and gen-
eral superintendent, who gave us a very cordial
reception. Although an entire stranger, he ap-
peared much rejoiced to meet us, and gave us a
general account of the conditions and wants of the
contrabands under his care. He went with us to
visjt 3ome of them in their crowded huts and sick
rooms. We found their condition to be even worse
than it had been represented to us before leaving
home. The deepest emotions of pity and sympathy
were called forth as we witnessed their extreme des-
titution and suffering. Many were sick from expo-
sure and for want of sufficient clothing ; they had
no bedding nor cooking utensils, none of the com-
forts and few of the necessaries of life. The scanty
rations issued by Government were their only sub-
sistence. The weather being quite chilly, many of
them were suffering with coughs and colds ; that
dreadful scourge — small-pox — was quite prevalent
among them, and added to the horrors of their situ-
ation. A large part of the contrabands collected at
this point were women, children, and old people.
Superintendent Rogers — a noble Christian worker —

622 REMINISCENCES.

was doing all in his power to nnake them as com-
fortable as the scanty means at his command would
allow.

To give them better shelter than their poor huts
afforded he was fitting up the old barracks — stop-
ping the cracks to keep out the cold wind, ard
making other repairs.

We believed friend Rogers to be the right man
in the right place, and felt much sympathy with him
in his arduous work. He evinced a deep interest in
the welfare of the contrabands, in every sense, and
was fitting up a large room in which to hold relig-
ious meetings. This apartment was also to be used
as a school-room, but the school had not yet been
organized. It seemed to be a great relief to friend
Rogers when Job Hadley and wife offered to take
charge of the school. The assistance of Job Had-
ley in other work would also be of great service to
him. We visited Dr. Reynolds, the physician in
charge of the contrabands, at his oflfice, and received
a hearty welcome. He told us there were about
one hundred and fifty cases of small-pox among the
colored people in camp.

At two o'clock in the afternoon I attended their
religious meeting, which was held in the large shel-
ter prepared for that purpose. The weather being
fair and the sun shining brightly, a large multitude
of the poor ragged slaves crowded together for de-
votional service. All the rough seats and every
foot of standing room were occupied, and the doors
and windows were crowded with anxious listeners.

J. B. Rogers opened the meeting with prayer and

WORK FOR THE FRE^DMEK 623

singing. He was a Baptist minister and had, I be-
lieve, not only been baptized with water but with
the Holy Ghost. He seemed to speak with the
power of the Holy Ghost. The singing of the col-
ored people was characterized by fervor and whole-
souled abandonment, such as I never before heard.
I thought of the day of Pentecost, when the disci-
ples being all of one accord m one place, there came
a sound from heaven as of a rushing mighty wind
that filled the house where they were sitting, and
filling them with the Holy Ghost so that they spoke ^
as the Spirit gave them utterance. Their hearts
seemed filled to overflowing with praise to God for
their deliverance from slavery. J. B. Rogers deliv-
ered a short gospel sermon, well adapted to their
understanding, after which a Presbyterian minister,
who was present, delivered a few remarks. Friend
Rogers then informed the colored people of my
presence and mission among them. His introduc-
tion was somewhat embarrassing to me, but I felt
fully prepared to talk to them and encourage them.
After I closed my remarks, singing and prayer were
continued by the colored people for some time,
many of the old men and women giving utterances
to expressions of praise and thanksgiving. Friend
Rogers gave them full privilege to take part in the
meeting, which they seemed to enjoy greatly.

After the meeting was concluded, friend Rogers
and I spent some time visiting the sick and afflicted,
and making notes of the articles of bedding and
clothing most needed. The next morning I started
home', leaving my friends, Job Hadley and wife, to

624 REMINISCENCES.

open a school among the colored people. It was
continued successfully during the winter. I will
here introduce an extract from J. B. Rogers* book,
*' War Pictures:*'

** On one beautiful Sunday morning of December, 1862, there
came into our office (at Cairo) three unpretending strangers
whom I recognized at once as Friends or Quakers. The name

of one of them, Mr. C , vfas familiar to me as I had often

heard of him as one of the truest and most active philanthropists
of the day. He was accompanied by two friends, a gentleman
and a lady. The three had fallen in company on their way to
Cairo to look after the wants and conditions of the colored people
there in that place under my charge. I soon found that though
called by a different name than my own, they were none the less
devoted Christians, disciples of Jesus. They spent the whole
of the Lord's day with me.

"This visit, while affording me great encouragenient in my
work, left with me some thoughts on the subject of Christian
association, which I found sweet and profitable after my friends
had left. It had never fallen in my way to make many acquaint*
ances among that class to which they belonged ; but I am pre-
pared now to recognize the distinctive traits of the genuine
Christian spirit in some, at least, if not all, of that interesting
people whose unpretending name is significant of the gentleness
and kindness and wide benevolence for which they have always
been remarkable. These Friends, of whom I speak, seemed to me
divested of everything like denominational or sectarian prejudice.
I saw the difference, too, between talking Christianity and acting
it ; between devotion to creeds and formularies and love for
Christ and for souls.

"And this 'godly simplicity '—what an engaging trail of Chris*
tia 1 character! It is the transparent medium through which we
look in upon the heart and discover there the spirit of the dear
Lord himself. Nor does a Christian need any kind of ostentation
to commend him either to God or his fellow-men. When such
Christians meet, they soon know each other. 'Christ in them the
hope of glory,' becomes a means of mutual recognition ; for, • as in
water, face answereth to face, so the heart of man.* '*

WORKING FOR THE FREED MEN. ^2$

After my return I wrote to friend Rogers, and
will here insert his reply, as it gives some account
of the freedmen*s school:

"Cairo, Illinois, December 21, 1862.

» Levi Coffin :

** Dear Brother — Your very kind favor I received in due time,
for which I am under very strong obligations to you. I have
thought very much of the precious visit I enjoyed with you
while here, and hope it was not without profit to myself. These
social interviews, if rig,htly enjoyed, can but be a source of great
usefulness to us in producing greater spirituality of mind, and
leading us closer to the man Christ Jesus. The school under the
charge of our good friends Hadley and wife more than answers
our highest hope. It has been in progress five days and a half,
and I think I may be safe in asserting that over fifty have learned
the alphabet entire, and most of them are in the a b ab, and
perhaps half, if not more, can spell words of three letters. Those
who visit the school are greatly astonished at their progress.
Where is there a parallel case among the whites ? Talk as much
as you may about their dull and blunt parts, we can not find an
equal number of whites that will excel them in the avidity with
which they try to learn. Old and young come together— the
majority, however, are children. They are seen all about after
school hours, with books in hand, learning their lessons. May
we hope, my dear brother, that from this small beginning there
may he great and important results growing to bless the colored
race ? Brother Hadley and lady are excellent folks ; I have begun
to appreciate their services very highly, and think their influence
to be very salutary indeed. May they not go unrewarded for
their self-sacrificing labors to benefit the despised of our country.
As our school advances I will keep you informed from time to
time, and hope I may hear from thee, true yoke-fellow.

** Your most humble and obedient servant, and brother in
Christ, J. B. Rogers."

After my return from Cairo I devoted my whole
time and energy to the work for the freed slaves. I
wrote many letters to my friends in the country —

626 REMINISCENCES.

in Ohio and Indiana — and they began at once to col-
lect bedding, clothing, and money, and forward them
to me. We had no facilities for sending them to
the various camps of the freedmen, or for properly
distributing them. It seemed necessary to have
some regular and responsible organization here on
the border, to receive and forward the supplies.

A meeting was called, and the Western Freed-
men's Aid Commission was organized, comprising
many prominent members of the different religious
denominations of our city. I was appointed general
agent of this commission. W^e went to work at
once and opened an office and wareroom where the
supplies sent for the freedmen could be received,
and stored until forwarded to their destination.

The members of the Society of Friends in various
parts of the country had become deeply interested
in the subject, and were actively at work. Miami
Quarterly Meeting had appointed a committee, the
members of which had issued a printed circular, to
Friends, on the subject of the sufferings and wants
of the freedmen. The response to this appeal came
in the shape of supplies from various parts of Ohio
and Indiana.

The Aid Commission was organized in January,
1863. It will be remembered that President Lin-
coln's emancipation proclamation took effect the
first day of that year.

General Grant, who at that time had command of
the Southern division of the army, gave us free
transportation for all supplies for the freedmen and
for our agents and teachers. We sent efficient

WORKING FOR THE FREEDMEN, 627

agents to attend to the proper and judicious distri-
bution of the clothing and other articles, and a
number of teachers> well supplied with books, to
open schools among the colored people. Notwith-
standing the hardships and dangers to be encoun-
tered in going into the enemy's land, several noble
young men volunteered their services. Among the
first that accompanied the supplies were Isaac
Thorne, John L. Roberts, and Franklin Coggeshall.
Boats passing down the river were often fired into
by guerrillas concealed in the trees and shrubbery
along the bank, and the trip was a hazardous one
on other accounts.

To Nashville and other points in Tennessee, then
in possession of the Union forces, the freedmen
had gathered by thousands, in great destitution and
suffering. The work constantly increased, and the
demands upon us far exceeded our supplies. Dur-
ing the winter and spring I frequently took hasty
trips into the country to endeavor to arouse a
deeper interest on this subject among the people,
and attended many of the Quarterly Meetings of
Friends in Ohio and Indiana, to encourage increased
action in behalf of the freedmen. These efforts
were blessed with success, and our supplies largely
increased.

Other denominations began to take a lively inter-
est, and as our organization was anti-sectarian, all
were united in this work of benevolence, and la-
bored together harmoniously.

Our field of labor had now become so large that
it seemed necessary for me to visit it again, and in

628 REMINISCENCES.

the latter part of May I left home to engage in this
mission, ft necessitated a trip down the Mississippi
River, and to various points in the South. Most of
the freedmen formerly at Cairo were now stationed
at Island Number Ten, where they were cultivating
the land, under charge of Chaplain B. Thomas. My
first call was at Columbus, Kentucky, twenty miles
below Cairo, where there was a large colony. I
went next to Island Number Ten, and thence to
Memphis, Tennessee. I arrived at the latter place
on Sabbath morning, and was very cordially re-
ceived by Chaplain Eaton, who had been appointed
by General Grant general superintendent of contra-
bands on the Mississippi, and to whom we had
forwarded large supplies of clothing, farming uten-
sils, and school-books.

At Memphis there were three large colonies or
villages of the freed people, who were cultivating
the ground with farming implements which we had
sent them. Chaplain Eaton made me welcome at
his quarters during my stay in Memphis, and gave
me all the assistance in his power, and every facility
I needed to accomplish my mission. I found him
to be a very intelligent and agreeable man and
Christian worker, and much interested in the wel-
fare of the freedmen, but greatly overworked with
so heavy a charge upon him. On my expressing a
wish to visit the camps on the day of my arrival,
and attend the meetings of the colored people, he
procured two cavalry horses, well equipped, and we
rode out to the camps.

As Eaton held the rank of colonel, we had no

WORKING FOR THE FREEDMEN. 62g

difficulty in passing the picket lines. We arrived at
Camp Holly Springs in time to visit the teachers in
their tents before the hour of worship. Their meet-
ing-house was a long shelter, covered with clap-
boards. The services were conducted by friend
Conner, of Ohio, a missionary sent to this place by
the United Presbyterians. The meeting was very
large and interesting, and before the crowd dis-
persed I had the privilege of addressing the lately
emancipated slaves.

We dined in a large tent with the missionary, his
wife, and two young lady teachers, and afterward
attended a meeting on President's Island, where a
large colony had lately been established. All of the
colored people here lived in tents ; their church and
school-house was a shelter made of brush. S. J.
Wright was located there under the auspices of the
American Missionary Association. Franklin Cogge-
shall and other teachers were laboring there. In
the evening we paid a short visit to the teachers at
Camp Shiloh. Each of these camps had a strong
picket guard of colored men. who kept a sharp look-
out; raids were often made by the rebels, and it
was necessary to guard against surprise.

A strong Union force was stationed in this vicin-
ity at the time of my visit, and several gunboats
were lying on the river ready for service. I visited
both the colored and white hospitals at this point.
In the latter there were a large number of wounded
soldiers, who had been brought in from various
battle-fields, and among them I found some young
ijnen from Indiana and other Western States, with

630

REMINISCENCES.

whom I was acquainted, and who seemed glad to
see me. To witness the sufferings of the wounded
was enough to move the stoutest heart. I never
before so fully realized the horrors of war.

I was admitted into the old fort where a regiment
of colored soldiers was being organized and drilled,
and met with the teacher and missionary who la-
bored among them. His name was Norton, and he
was a member of the Presbyterian Church. Not-
withstanding the efforts that were made to relieve
and care for the lately emancipated slaves, I found
many of them in a suffering condition. Those who
were in the camps outside of the city were in
charge of the superintendents, and their wants were
provided for as well as the means at command
would allow, but more than two thousand had taken
refuge within the city limits, and their condition was
truly deplorable.

As the slaveholders fled before the advancing
Union forces they took with them their able-bodied
slaves, and when these tried to escape and reach the
Union lines, they were pursued and fired upon by
their masters, who had rather shoot them down than
let them go free. The slaves came into Memphif
every day, many of them wounded, and all of them
suffering for lack of food and clothing. While I
was visiting one of the colored hospitals, a lai|;ie
brick house — the residence of an aristocratic South*
crner — in the suburbs of the city, which had been
appropriated to the use of the sick and wounded
freedmen, a company of slaves was brought in,
some of them suffering from gunshot wounds. They

WORKING FOB THE PRBEDMEN. 631

said they had attempted to escape from their mas-
ters, and had been pursued. Two of their number
were shot dead, and the others were so disabled
that they were lying helpless by the roadside when
a company of Union soldiers discovered them and
brought them in.

After remaining two days at Memphis, I obtained
a pass to Corinth, Mississippi, by way of La Grange,
Bolivar, and Jackson, Tennessee. The railroads
were all under military control, but Chaplain Eaton
had been authorized by General Grant to give free
transportation to all agents visiting the freedmen,
also to our teachers and supplies. There was much
red tape in the rules and regulations of the military
department. I had to report to the provost- marshal
and obtain a permit to go South — then report to the
various military posts, and have it indorsed.

At La Grange, some fifty miles south of Memphis,
there was a contraband carnp in charge of Chaplain
Joel Grant, of the Twelfth Illinois Infantry. I had
previously forwarded boxes of school-books, cloth-
ing, blankets, and farming utensils to this place and
to Corinth. Of the two thousand contrabands
gathered at this point, many had no shelter but
cast-off" army tents; there was much destitution and
suffering among them. One of our teachers, John
L. Roberts, had prepared a long shelter of brush,
and was about to open a school. A strong Union
force wiis stationed here, under command of General
Smith, of Ohio. A college building was used as a
hospital for sick and wounded soldiers, and a iai^e
private residence, in the suburbs of the city, was

632 REMINISCENCES,

occupied as a hospital for the contrabands. Many
of the freedmen here were in Government service
as waiters, cooks, washers, teamsters, etc., and a
colored regiment was being organized.

Superintendent Grant accompanied me to visit
the farm grounds which the freedmen were cultiva-
ting within the picket lines, and to see the soldiers
in camp and in the hospitals. I found here a num-
ber of our Ohio boys. In the evening I attended
religious service in the contrabands' camp, and at
night found comfortable quarters in the mansion
that had been deserted by its owner, and was now
used as a hospital for the colored people.

Next morning I returned to the large double tent
which constituted the headquarters of Chaplain
Grant, He told me that during the night a large
number of contrabands had come in — mostly women
and children — for whom no shelter could be pro-
vided, as the tents were already crowded full. A
few blankets were all that could be furnished them,
and they remained exposed to the heavy dews dur-
ing the night and the hot sun during the day, unless
they made a shelter of green brush. I visited them
as they sat in their rags and dirt, and listened to
their accounts of the privation and suffering they
had undergone before reaching the Union lines.
Although their destitution was extreme, I heard no
murmurs or complaints. Their hearts seemed full
of praise to God for their deliverance from slavery;
they regarded it as an answer to the prayers they
had sent up so often in their days of cruel bondage.

WORKING FOR THE FREEDMEN. 633

I was touched by their simple expressions of thanks-
giving, and felt my eyes fill with tears.

I attended the opening of John L. Roberts*
school, under the shelter of green brush, and was
much interested to see the eagerness with which his
pupils pressed forward to have their names regis-
tered and receive the school-books. When this was
done they retired in good order to their seats,
formed of rough slabs, holding carefully in their
hands the precious books, of which they knew no
word or letter. The parents of many of them looked
on with deep interest.

While at La Grange I witnessed the arrival of a
company of contrabands, thirty-one in number,
mostly women and children. They were brought
in by a company of cavalry scouts, and rode, part in
a wagon to which four mules were attached, part in
an elegant carriage, drawn by a span of bay horses.
The cavalry had been out in pursuit of a band of
guerrillas, and had gathered up these negroes
from the plantation of a rich planter, whose house
had been the headquarters of the guerrillas. The
contrabands were quite jubilant at the prospect of
liberty, and collected in a semicircle around the
superintendent's tent to have their names and ages
registered. One old woman, whose head was as
white as wool, stood first, and when she was asked
her age, she replied: ** Don't know, massa; dey
tole me I was twenty-one and made me do de work
of a gal. I s'pose I's seventy-five or eighty."

The chaplain put her down as seventy-five, then
proceeded to put the same question to the others.

/•

634 REMINISCENCES.

They could not tell how old they were, and he had
to register their names and guess at their ages.
When this was done the old woman made a speech
to us, part of it amusing and part quite pathetic.

She said: ** Yesterday when de sogers come I was
out milkin' de cows and prayin* dat de Lord would
send de Yankees here. Massa had tried to scare
us; he told us if de Yankees got hold of us dey
would work us mos' to death, then send us off to
Cuba and sell us, but de Lord didn't tell me so, and
I kep* prayin' dat dey would come. While I was
milkin' I happened to raise my head, and bless de
Lord, dere was de Yankees' heads poppin' up above
de fence. Oh, my heart almos' jumped out of me
for joy. Dey come right up and surrounded de
house ; de rebs was gone but massa was dere. I
quit milkin' and walked right by de captain. He
said for us all to get ready, he was going to take us
out of slavery. Oh, dat made me feel good. I
took de bucket of milk into de kitchen and set it
down, and went out into de yard and tole de captain
how dey had used us and how dey had 'bused us,
all right before massa's face and he dasn't cheep.
De boys was plowin' in de field and de captain sent
sogers to tell 'em to unhitch de mules and hitch *em
to de wagon, and I tell you dey done it mighty
quick. Dey put four mules to de wagon, den dey
fetched out de fine carriage and fine horses and
made 'em ready. Den we fetched out our old bags
and old beds and put in de wagon, and de captain
tole us to put in provisions to eat. I tell you it was
all done mighty quick, and we drove off, some of us

WORKING FOR THE FREEDMEN. 635

riden' in de fine carriage and dc rest in de wagon.
De sogers went before and behind us, and here we
all is, bless de Lord ! "

All listened with intense interest to the oM
woman's story, told in her own simple language.
She pointed to several of the company, and said:
"Dese are my children and grandchildren;" then
turning to us, she continued: "Gent'men, dis is all
de work of de Lord. I has been prayin' many
years dat He would send deliverance to us poor
slaves, and my faith never failed me dat He would
hear my prayer, and dat I would live to be free."
She then broke forth in a song of praise and thanks-
giving, in which others joined her, singing in that
peculiar, plaintive manner characteristic of the mu-
sical utterances of slaves — those who sing from the
depths of heart experience, I was renewedly con-
vinced that many of the Lord's children were to be
found among the poor untutored slaves.

At La Grange I took the train for Corinth, Mis-
sissippi, going by way of Bolivar and Jackson, Ten-
nessee; the road by way of Grand Junction having
been destroyed by the rebels. Our route to Corinth
lay through the enemy's country, where there had
been much fighting and great destruction of prop-
erty. The road was strongly guarded, squads of
soldiers being posted, at short distances, along the
entire route. Breastworks had been thrown up here
and there, and rifle-pits were to be seen every few
miles. The desolation wrought by war was visible
on every side. Fences were gone, houses burned,
and plantations deserted ; everything seemed to be

636

REMINISCENCES.

going to destruction. Two large arnnies had passed
over the land, leaving ruin in their track. The
rebel army had taken away or destroyed the prop-
erty of Union men in the South ; the Federal army
had done the same with the property of the rebels,
and nothing remained for the poor slaves to live
upon. The women and children, and the aged and
feeble were often found on the ruined plantations
suffering for the means of life. Our soldiers fre-
quently shared their rations with them, but could
do little to alleviate the sudden and general distress.
A large military force was stationed at Corinth,
but having proper credentials, I found no difficulty
in passing the picket lines. Colonel Alexander,
superintendent of contrabands at this place, received
me cordially, and gave me lodging in his tent. I
found about six thousand contrabands within the
picket lines. Several teachers and missionaries
were stationed here, and about three hundred chil-
dren attended school. The cabins and tents of the
contrabands were kept clean, and were visited often
by the distributing agents and teachers. It was
truly an arduous field of labor; numbers o