The reader will pardon this passing homily, while we return to our
narrative.
We were saying that the day-dreams of Isabella and her husband-the plan
they drew of what they would do, and the comforts they thought to have,
when they should obtain their freedom, and a little home of their own-
had all turned to 'thin air,' by the postponement of their freedom to
so late a day. These delusive hopes were never to be realized, and a
new set of trials was gradually to open before her. These were the
heart-wasting trials of watching over her children, scattered, and
imminently exposed to the temptations of the adversary, with few, if
any, fixed principles to sustain them.
'Oh,' she says, 'how little did I know myself of the best way to
instruct and counsel them! Yet I did the best I then knew, when with
them. I took them to the religious meetings; I talked to, and prayed
for and with them; when they did wrong, I scolded at and whipped them.'
Isabella and her son had been free about a year, when they went to
reside in the city of New York; a place which she would doubtless have
avoided, could she have foreseen what was there in store for her; for
this view into the future would have taught her what she only learned
by bitter experience, that the baneful influences going up from such a
city were not the best helps to education, commenced as the education
of her children had been.
Her son Peter was, at the time of which we are speaking, just at that
age when no lad should be subjected to the temptations of such a place,
unprotected as he was, save by the feeble arm of a mother, herself a
servant there. He was growing up to be a tall, well-formed, active
lad, of quick perceptions, mild and cheerful in his disposition, with
much that was open, generous and winning about him, but with little
power to withstand temptation, and a ready ingenuity to provide himself
with ways and means to carry out his plans, and conceal from his mother
and her friends, all such as he knew would not meet their approbation.
As will be readily believed, he was soon drawn into a circle of
associates who did not improve either his habits or his morals.
Two years passed before Isabella knew what character Peter was
establishing for himself among his low and worthless comrades-passing
under the assumed name of Peter Williams; and she began to feel a
parent's pride in the promising appearance of her only son. But, alas!
this pride and pleasure were shortly dissipated, as distressing facts
relative to him came one by one to her astonished ear. A friend of
Isabella's, a lady, who was much pleased with the good humor,
ingenuity, and open confessions of Peter, when driven into a corner,
and who, she said, 'was so smart, he ought to have an education, if any
one ought,'-paid ten dollars, as tuition fee, for him to attend a
navigation school. But Peter, little inclined to spend his leisure
hours in study, when he might be enjoying himself in the dance, or
otherwise, with his boon companions, went regularly and made some
plausible excuses to the teacher, who received them as genuine, along
with the ten dollars of Mrs -, and while his mother and her friend
believed him improving at school, he was, to their latent sorrow,
improving in a very different place or places, and on entirely opposite
principles. They also procured him an excellent place as a coachman.
But, wanting money, he sold his livery, and other things belonging to
his master; who, having conceived a kind regard for him, considered his
youth, and prevented the law from falling, with all its rigor, upon his
head. Still he continued to abuse his privileges, and to involve
himself in repeated difficulties, from which his mother as often
extricated him. At each time, she talked much, and reasoned and
remonstrated with him; and he would, with such perfect frankness, lay
open his whole soul to her, telling her he had never intended doing
harm,-how he had been led along, little by little, till, before he was
aware, he found himself in trouble-how he had tried to be good-and how,
when he would have been so, 'evil was present with him,'-indeed he knew
not how it was.
His mother, beginning to feel that the city was no place for him, urged
his going to sea, and would have shipped him on board a man-of-war; but
Peter was not disposed to consent to that proposition, while the city
and its pleasures were accessible to him. Isabella now became a prey
to distressing fears, dreading lest the next day or hour come fraught
with the report of some dreadful crime, committed or abetted by her
son. She thanks the Lord for sparing her that giant sorrow, as all his
wrong doings never ranked higher, in the eye of the law, than
misdemeanors. But as she could see no improvement in Peter, as a last
resort, she resolved to leave him, for a time, unassisted, to bear the
penalty of his conduct, and see what effect that would have on him. In
the trial hour, she remained firm in her resolution. Peter again fell
into the hands of the police, and sent for his mother, as usual; but
she went not to his relief. In his extremity, he sent for Peter
Williams, a respectable colored barber, whose name he had been
wearing, and who sometimes helped young culprits out of their troubles,
and sent them from city dangers, by shipping them on board of whaling
vessels.
The curiosity of this man was awakened by the culprit's bearing his own
name. He went to the Tombs and inquired into his case, but could not
believe what Peter told him respecting his mother and family. Yet he
redeemed him, and Peter promised to leave New York in a vessel that was
to sail in the course of a week. He went to see his mother, and
informed her of what had happened to him. She listened incredulously,
as to an idle tale. He asked her to go with him and see for herself.
She went, giving no credence to his story till she found herself in the
presence of Mr. Williams, and heard him saying to her, 'I am very glad
I have assisted your son; he stood in great need of sympathy and
assistance; but I could not think he had such a mother here, although
he assured me he had.'
Isabella's great trouble now was, a fear lest her son should deceive
his benefactor, and be missing when the vessel sailed; but he begged
her earnestly to trust him, for he said he had resolved to do better,
and meant to abide by the resolve. Isabella's heart gave her no peace
till the time of sailing, when Peter sent Mr. Williams and another
messenger whom she knew, to tell her he had sailed. But for a month
afterwards, she looked to see him emerging from some by-place in the
city, and appearing before her; so afraid was she that he was still
unfaithful, and doing wrong. But he did not appear, and at length she
believed him really gone. He left in the summer of 1839, and his
friends heard nothing further from him till his mother received the
following letter, dated 'October 17 1840';-