Was a young man of small stature, but of keen eye and intelligent
countenance. While a lad, in the time of the last war, he and his
master were taken prisoners at sea and carried to Nova Scotia. His
servile condition becoming known to the British officers, they
compelled his master to give him free papers. But when the prisoners
were exchanged, his master persuaded him to return with him to
Virginia, by the promise that he should still be free. But he was
sold. In Richmond he for some years had hired his time, and kept a
well known fruit shop. At last he became the marriage portion of his
master’s daughter, and was speedily to be removed as part and parcel
of the _set out_ of the bride. To this he demurred, threw himself upon
his inalienable rights, and came to New York. Here he occupied himself
for some months as a waiter, much to the satisfaction of his employer.
The object of his affections, a very worthy and industrious free
colored girl, had found her way to New Haven, Connecticut. Thither it
was fixed that Francis should follow, and after their marriage they
should proceed with their united means to a place of greater safety.
But the kind Christian _white_ bridegroom had come on from Virginia to
search for his runaway _property_, and by the aid of a professed slave
taker in the city, discovered the retreat of Francis and his intended
movements. At the appointed hour for the steamboat to start, the
colored young man came quietly on board with his little bundle. The
fell tigers were in ambush――the slave-taker Boudinot, a constable, and
the lily-fingered white bridegroom aforesaid. The latter delicately
pointed at the victim. A pounce was made upon him by Boudinot. Smith,
after a scuffle of a moment, in which his antagonist received a
scratch from his knife, darted on shore, cried “kidnappers,” and fled.
The pursuers raised the cry of “murderer, stop the murderer.” The
crowd thus deceived ran after him. Clubs, stones, and brickbats, were
hurled at the poor fugitive without mercy, and he was at last brought
to the ground, weltering in his blood. The owner took care to save his
“property” from farther injury by having it conveyed to the old
Bridewell. Thus was the happiness of this humble pair frustrated, that
the delicate fingers of another pair might be spared the vulgar
necessity of doing something for the support of their owners. And all
this was done by law. During the law’s delay, Francis for months
occupied one of the coffin cells, the heat and smothering stench of
which, added to his disappointment and his galling manacles, were too
much for his brain. Often were his wild ravings heard by the
passengers on the outside.
His intended bride, in the bitterness of her grief and disappointment,
offered her little all, amounting to about $300, for his ransom, but
it was of no avail.