SAD REVERSES OF CAPT. HELM.
I must again introduce to the kind reader my old master, Capt. Helm, who
we left residing in Bath, several years ago. And as I have before
intimated he had now become a very poor man; indeed so reduced was he now
that he lived with one of his slave women, and was supported by public
charity! Learning, too, that I had saved by my industry a few hundred
dollars, it seemed very congenial with his avaricious habits to endeavor
to obtain what I possessed. In accordance with his plan he employed a
lawyer named Lewland to come to my place of business, which he did, and
demanded of me to pay Capt. Helm two hundred dollars. He also left a
notice, forbidding all persons to take or destroy any property in my
possession; and then impudently inquired how I expected to gain my
freedom; if I thought of applying for a writ of _habaeus corpus_; and many
other questions; to which I replied that I should pay no money on the
order of Capt. Helm; apply for no writ; but should continue to maintain my
personal rights and enjoy the freedom which was already mine, and which I
designed to keep, assuring him that the Captain had forfeited his claim,
if he had any, to me or my services, when he hired me to Mr. Tower.
He hung about me for a day or two, and then left me to pursue my business
--I saw no more of him. Some time afterward Mr. H.E. Rochester informed me
that he had a _subpoena_ for me, which I found was issued by the
direction of Capt. Helm. By Mr. Rochester's counsel, I took it to Mr. A.
Sampson, who assured me that my old master had commenced a suit against me
in the Court of Equity, and the case would be tried before Wm. B.
Rochester, Esq., who was one of the circuit judges. Capt. Helm claimed
every particle of property I possessed; a claim that occasioned me great
anxiety and some cost.
Mr. Sampson encouraged me to hope, however, that the case would be
dismissed as two other cases of that kind had been.
I labored to the best of my ability to prepare myself for the trial, which
was to decide whether I had a right to possess myself and command my own
services and earnings, or whether all belonged to Capt. Helm. As I looked
forward with anxious forebodings to the day appointed for the suit to
commence, I was startled by the announcement of my old master's _death_!
Yes, Capt. Helm was dead; and with him died the law suit. He who had so
wronged me, who had occasioned me so much suffering and sorrow had gone to
his account. He who had once been thought to be one of the wealthiest as
well as one of the greatest men in the county, died a pauper--neglected
and despised, and scarcely awarded a decent burial. Like his wife, who
died such a horrid death, he had been reared in affluence and was an
inheritor of vast possessions, but his home was in a slave State; he was
raised on a plantation, and nurtured in the atmosphere of Slavery.
In his youth he had contracted the habit of drinking to excess, beside
that of gambling, horse-racing and the like, which followed him through
life. Forgotten and scorned in his poverty by many who had partaken of his
abundance, sipped his wine, and rode his fast horses.
During the last war his princely mansion was ever open to the officers of
the army, and many a wounded soldier has been cheered and comforted by his
hospitality. But now he is regarded as no better than his poorest slave,
and lies as lowly as they, in the narrow house appointed for all the
living.
My old master had two brothers: the oldest, Thomas Helm, was a Captain in
the United States Army, and had been in many hard-fought battles. His
younger brother, William, was a Captain also; but Thomas was the man to
awaken curiosity. I have lived with him, but never knew of his going
unarmed for an hour, until he left Virginia and came to Steuben County,
where he died. When at the South, I have seen strangers approach him, but
they were invariably commanded to "stand" and to "approach him at their
peril." He finally came to the State of New York, bringing with him his
"woman" with whom he lived, and two children, with whom he settled on a
piece of land given him by my old master, where the old soldier lived,
died, and was buried on one of his small "clearings" under an old apple
tree. He owned a few slaves, but at his death his "woman" collected every
thing she could, and among the rest, two or three slave children, to whom
she had no right or claim whatever, and made her way to Kentucky. About a
year ago I visited the spot where the brave old defender of his country
had been buried, but found very little to mark the resting place of the
brother of my old master. They had passed away. Their wealth, power and
bravery had come to nought; and no tribute was now paid to the memory of
one of "Old Virginia's best families." The _blood_ of which they were wont
to boast, was now no more revered than that which commingled with the
African and circulated in the veins of his despised and downtrodden
slaves.