met Captain Brown in Canada. She thought she was in 'a wilderness sort
of place, all full of rocks and bushes,' when she saw a serpent raise
its head among the rocks, and as it did so, it became the head of an old
man with a long white beard, gazing at her 'wishful like, jes as ef he
war gwine to speak to me,' and then two other heads rose up beside him,
younger than he,--and as she stood looking at them, and wondering what
they could want with her, a great crowd of men rushed in and struck down
the younger heads, and then the head of the old man, still looking at
her so 'wishful.' This dream she had again and again, and could not
interpret it; but when she met Captain Brown, shortly after, behold, he
was the very image of the head she had seen. But still she could not
make out what her dream signified, till the news came to her of the
tragedy of Harper's Ferry, and then she knew the two other heads were
his two sons. She was in New York at that time, and on the day of the
affair at Harper's Ferry, she felt her usual warning that something was
wrong--she could not tell what. Finally she told her hostess that it
must be Captain Brown who was in trouble, and that they should soon hear
bad news from him. The next day's newspaper brought tidings of what had
happened.
"Her last visit to Maryland was made after this, in December, 1860; and
in spite of the agitated condition of the country, and the greater
watchfulness of the slaveholders, she brought away seven fugitives, one
of them an infant, which must be drugged with opium to keep it from
crying on the way, and so revealing the hiding place of the party. She
brought these safely to New York, but there a new difficulty met her. It
was the mad winter of compromises, when State after State, and
politician after politician, went down on their knees to beg the South
not to secede. The hunting of fugitive slaves began again. Mr. Seward
went over to the side of compromise. He knew the history of this poor
woman; he had given his enemies a hold on him, by dealing with her; it
was thought he would not scruple to betray her. The suspicion was an
unworthy one, for though the Secretary could betray a cause, he could
not surely have put her enemies on the track of a woman who was thus in
his power, after such a career as hers had been. But so little
confidence was then felt in Mr. Seward, by men who had voted for him and
with him, that they hurried Harriet off to Canada, sorely against her
will.
"She did not long remain there. The war broke out, for which she had
been long looking, and she hastened to her New England friends to
prepare for another expedition to Maryland, to bring away the last of
her family.
"Before she could start, however, the news came of the capture of Port
Royal. Instantly she conceived the idea of going there and working
among her people on the islands and the mainland. Money was given her,
a pass was secured through the agency of Governor Andrew, and she went
to Beaufort. There she has made herself useful in many ways--has been
employed as a spy by General Hunter, and finally has piloted Col.
Montgomery on his most successful expedition. We gave some notice of
this fact last week. Since then we have received the following letter,
dictated by her, from which it appears that she needs some contributions
for her work. We trust she will receive them, for none has better
deserved it. She asks nothing for herself, except that her wardrobe may
be replenished, and even this she will probably share with the first
needy person she meets.
"'BEAUFORT, S. C., June 30, 1863.
* * * "'Last fall, when the people here became very much alarmed for
fear of an invasion from the rebels, all my clothes were packed and sent
with others to Hilton Head, and lost; and I have never been able to get
any trace of them since. I was sick at the time, and unable to look
after them myself. I want, among the rest, a _bloomer_ dress, made of
some coarse, strong material, to wear on _expeditions_. In our late
expedition up the Combahee River, in coming on board the boat, I was
carrying _two pigs_ for a poor sick woman, who had a child to carry, and
the order "double quick" was given, and I started to run, stepped on my
dress, it being rather long, and fell and tore it almost off, so that
when I got on board the boat, there was hardly anything left of it but
shreds. I made up my mind then I would never wear a long dress on
another expedition of the kind, but would have a _bloomer_ as soon as I
could get it. So please make this known to the ladies, if you will, for
I expect to have use for it very soon, probably before they can get it
to me.
"'You have, without doubt, seen a full account of the expedition I refer
to. Don't you think we colored people are entitled to some credit for
that exploit, under the lead of the brave Colonel Montgomery? We
weakened the rebels somewhat on the Combahee River, by taking and
bringing away _seven hundred and fifty-six_ head of their most valuable
live stock, known up in your region as "contrabands," and this, too,
without the loss of a single life on our part, though we had good reason
to believe that a number of rebels bit the dust. Of these seven hundred
and fifty-six contrabands, nearly or quite all the able-bodied men have
joined the colored regiments here.
"'I have now been absent two years almost, and have just got letters
from my friends in Auburn, urging me to come home. My father and mother
are old and in feeble health, and need my care and attention. I hope the
good people there will not allow them to suffer, and I do not believe
they will. But I do not see how I am to leave at present the very
important work to be done here. Among other duties which I have, is that
of looking after the hospital here for contrabands. Most of those coming
from the mainland are very destitute, almost naked. I am trying to find
places for those able to work, and provide for them as best I can, so as
to lighten the burden on the Government as much as possible, while at
the same time they learn to respect themselves by earning their own
living.
"'Remember me very kindly to Mrs. ---- and her daughters; also, if you
will, to my Boston friends, Mrs. C., Miss H., and especially to Mr. and
Mrs. George L. Stearns, to whom I am under great obligations for their
many kindnesses. I shall be sure to come and see you all if I live to go
North. If you write, direct your letter to the care of C.'"
In the Spring of 1860, Harriet Tubman was requested by Mr. Gerrit Smith
to go to Boston to attend a large Anti-Slavery meeting. On her way, she
stopped at Troy to visit a cousin, and while there, the colored people
were one day startled with the intelligence that a fugitive slave, by
the name of Charles Nalle, had been followed by his master (who was his
younger brother, and not one grain whiter than he), and that he was
already in the hands of the officers, and was to be taken back to the
South. The instant Harriet heard the news, she started for the office of
the U. S. Commissioner, scattering the tidings as she went. An excited
crowd were gathered about the office, through which Harriet forced her
way, and rushed up stairs to the door of the room where the fugitive was
detained. A wagon was already waiting before the door to carry off the
man, but the crowd was even then so great, and in such a state of
excitement, that the officers did not dare to bring the man down. On the
opposite side of the street stood the colored people, watching the
window where they could see Harriet's sun-bonnet, and feeling assured
that so long as she stood there, the fugitive was still in the office.
Time passed on, and he did not appear. "They've taken him out another
way, depend upon that," said some of the colored people. "No," replied
others, "there stands 'Moses' yet, and as long as she is there, he is
safe." Harriet, now seeing the necessity for a tremendous effort for his
rescue, sent out some little boys to cry _fire_. The bells rang, the
crowd increased, till the whole street was a dense mass of people. Again
and again the officers came out to try and clear the stairs, and make a
way to take their captive down; others were driven down, but Harriet
stood her ground, her head bent down, and her arms folded. "Come, old
woman, you must get out of this," said one of the officers; "I must have
the way cleared; if you can't get down alone, some one will help you."
Harriet, still putting on a greater appearance of decrepitude, twitched
away from him, and kept her place. Offers were made to buy Charles from
his master, who at first agreed to take twelve hundred dollars for him;
but when that was subscribed, he immediately raised the price to fifteen
hundred. The crowd grew more excited. A gentleman raised a window and
called out, "Two hundred dollars for his rescue, but not one cent to his
master!" This was responded to by a roar of satisfaction from the crowd
below. At length the officers appeared, and announced to the crowd that
if they would open a lane to the wagon, they would promise to bring the
man down the front way.
The lane was opened, and the man was brought out--a tall, handsome,
intelligent _white_ man, with his wrists manacled together, walking
between the U. S. Marshal and another officer, and behind him his
brother and his master, so like him that one could hardly be told from
the other. The moment they appeared, Harriet roused from her stooping
posture, threw up a window, and cried to her friends: "Here he
comes--take him!" and then darted down the stairs like a wild-cat. She
seized one officer and pulled him down, then another, and tore him away
from the man; and keeping her arms about the slave, she cried to her
friends: "Drag us out! Drag him to the river! Drown him! but don't let
them have him!" They were knocked down together, and while down she tore
off her sun-bonnet and tied it on the head of the fugitive. When he
rose, only his head could be seen, and amid the surging mass of people
the slave was no longer recognized, while the master appeared like the
slave. Again and again they were knocked down, the poor slave utterly
helpless, with his manacled wrists streaming with blood. Harriet's
outer clothes were torn from her, and even her stout shoes were all
pulled from her feet, yet she never relinquished her hold of the man,
till she had dragged him to the river, where he was tumbled into a boat,
Harriet following in a ferry-boat to the other side. But the telegraph
was ahead of them, and as soon as they landed he was seized and hurried
from her sight. After a time, some school children came hurrying along,
and to her anxious inquiries they answered, "He is up in that house, in
the third story." Harriet rushed up to the place. Some men were
attempting to make their way up the stairs. The officers were firing
down, and two men were lying on the stairs, who had been shot. Over
their bodies our heroine rushed, and with the help of others burst open
the door of the room, dragged out the fugitive, whom Harriet carried
down stairs in her arms. A gentleman who was riding by with a fine
horse, stopped to ask what the disturbance meant; and on hearing the
story, his sympathies seemed to be thoroughly aroused; he sprang from
his wagon, calling out, "That is a blood-horse, drive him till he
drops." The poor man was hurried in; some of his friends jumped in after
him, and drove at the most rapid rate to Schenectady.
This is the story Harriet told to the writer. By some persons it seemed
too wonderful for belief, and an attempt was made to corroborate it.
Rev. Henry Fowler, who was at the time at Saratoga, kindly volunteered
to go to Troy and ascertain the facts. His report was, that he had had a
long interview with Mr. Townsend, who acted during the trial as counsel
for the slave, that he had given him a "rich narration," which he would
write out the next week for this little book. But before he was to begin
his generous labor, and while engaged in some kind efforts for the
prisoners at Auburn, he was stricken down by the heat of the sun, and is
for a long time debarred from labor.
FUGITIVE SLAVE RESCUE IN TROY.
From the Troy Whig, April 28, 1859.
Yesterday afternoon, the streets of this city and West Troy were made
the scenes of unexampled excitement. For the first time since the
passage of the Fugitive Slave Law, an attempt was made here to carry its
provisions into execution, and the result was a terrific encounter
between the officers and the prisoner's friends, the triumph of mob
law, and the final rescue of the fugitive. Our city was thrown into a
grand state of turmoil, and for a time every other topic was forgotten,
to give place to this new excitement. People did not think last evening
to ask who was nominated at Charleston, or whether the news of the
Heenan and Sayers battle had arrived--everything was merged into the
fugitive slave case, of which it seems the end is not yet.
Charles Nalle, the fugitive, who was the cause of all this excitement,
was a slave on the plantation of B. W. Hansborough, in Culpepper County,
Virginia, till the 19th of October, 1858, when he made his escape, and
went to live in Columbia, Pennsylvania. A wife and five children are
residing there now. Not long since he came to Sandlake, in this county,
and resided in the family of Mr. Crosby until about three weeks ago.
Since that time, he has been employed as coachman by Uri Gilbert, Esq.,
of this city. He is about thirty years of age, tall, quite
light-complexioned, and good-looking. He is said to have been an
excellent and faithful servant.
At Sandlake, we understand that Nalle was often seen by one H. F.
Averill, formerly connected with one of the papers of this city, who
communicated with his reputed owner in Virginia, and gave the
information that led to a knowledge of the whereabouts of the fugitive.
Averill wrote letters for him, and thus obtained an acquaintance with
his history. Mr. Hansborough sent on an agent, Henry J. Wall, by whom
the necessary papers were got out to arrest the fugitive.
Yesterday morning about 11 o'clock, Charles Nalle was sent to procure
some bread for the family by whom he was employed. He failed to return.
At the baker's, he was arrested by Deputy United States Marshal J. W.
Holmes, and immediately taken before United States Commissioner Miles
Beach. The son of Mr. Gilbert, thinking it strange that he did not come
back, sent to the house of William Henry, on Division Street, where he
boarded, and his whereabouts was discovered.
The examination before Commissioner Beach was quite brief. The evidence
of Averill and the agent was taken, and the Commissioner decided to
remand Nalle to Virginia. The necessary papers were made out and given
to the Marshal.
By this time it was two o'clock, and the fact began to be noised abroad
that there was a fugitive slave in Mr. Beach's office, corner of State
and first Streets. People in knots of ten or twelve collected near the
entrance, looking at Nalle, who could be seen at an upper window.
William Henry, a colored man, with whom Nalle boarded, commenced talking
from the curb-stone in a loud voice to the crowd. He uttered such
sentences as, "There is a fugitive slave in that office--pretty soon you
will see him come forth. He is going to be taken down South, and you
will have a chance to see him. He is to be taken to the depot, to go to
Virginia in the first train. Keep watch of those stairs, and you will
have a sight." A number of women kept shouting, crying, and by loud
appeals excited the colored persons assembled.
Still the crowd grew in numbers. Wagons halted in front of the locality,
and were soon piled with spectators. An alarm of fire was sounded, and
hose carriages dashed through the ranks of men, women, and boys; but
they closed again, and kept looking with expectant eyes at the window
where the negro was visible. Meanwhile, angry discussions commenced.
Some persons agitated a rescue, and others favored law and order. Mr.
Brockway, a lawyer, had his coat torn for expressing his sentiments, and
other melees kept the interest alive.
All at once there was a wild hulloa, and every eye was turned up to see
the legs and part of the body of the prisoner protruding from the
second-story window, at which he was endeavoring to escape. Then arose a
shout! "Drop him!" "Catch him!" "Hurrah!" But the attempt was a
fruitless one, for somebody in the office pulled Nalle back again, amid
the shouts of a hundred pair of lungs. The crowd at this time numbered
nearly a thousand persons. Many of them were black, and a good share
were of the female sex. They blocked up State Street from First Street
to the alley, and kept surging to and fro.
Martin I. Townsend, Esq., who acted as counsel for the fugitive, did not
arrive in the Commissioner's office until a decision had been rendered.
He immediately went before Judge Gould, of the Supreme Court, and
procured a writ of habeas corpus in the usual form, _returnable_
immediately. This was given Deputy Sheriff Nathaniel Upham, who at once
proceeded to Commissioner Beach's office, and served it on Holmes. Very
injudiciously, the officers proceeded at once to Judge Gould's office,
although it was evident they would have to pass through an excited,
unreasonable crowd. As soon as the officers and their prisoner emerged
from the door, an old negro, who had been standing at the bottom of the
stairs, shouted, "Here they come," and the crowd made a terrific rush at
the party.
From the office of Commissioner Beach, in the Mutual Building, to that
of Judge Gould, in Congress Street, is less than two blocks, but it was
made a regular battle-field. The moment the prisoner emerged from the
doorway, in custody of Deputy-Sheriff Upham, Chief of Police Quin,
Officers Cleveland and Holmes, the crowd made one grand charge, and
those nearest the prisoner seized him violently, with the intention of
pulling him away from the officers, but they were foiled; and down First
to Congress Street, and up the latter in front of Judge Gould's
chambers, went the surging mass. Exactly what did go on in the crowd, it
is impossible to say, but the pulling, hauling, mauling, and shouting,
gave evidences of frantic efforts on the part of the rescuers, and a
stern resistance from the conservators of the law. In front of Judge
Gould's office the combat was at its height. No stones or other missiles
were used; the battle was fist to fist. We believe an order was given to
take the prisoner the other way, and there was a grand rush towards the
West, past First and River Streets, as far as Dock Street. All this time
there was a continual melee. Many of the officers were hurt--among them
Mr. Upham, whose object was solely to do his duty by taking Nalle before
Judge Gould in accordance with the writ of habeas corpus. A number in
the crowd were more or less hurt, and it is a wonder that these were not
badly injured, as pistols were drawn and chisels used.
The battle had raged as far as the corner of Dock and Congress Streets,
and the victory remained with the rescuers at last. The officers were
completely worn out with their exertions, and it was impossible to
continue their hold upon him any longer. Nalle was at liberty. His
friends rushed him down Dock Street to the lower ferry, where there was
a skiff lying ready to start. The fugitive was put in, the ferryman
rowed off, and amid the shouts of hundreds who lined the banks of the
river, Nalle was carried into Albany County.
As the skiff landed in West Troy, a negro sympathizer waded up to the
waist, and pulled Nalle out of the boat. He went up the hill alone,
however, and there who should he meet but Constable Becker? The latter
official seeing a man with manacles on, considered it his duty to arrest
him. He did so, and took him in a wagon to the office of Justice
Stewart, on the second floor of the corner building near the ferry. The
Justice was absent.
When the crowd on the Troy bank had seen Nalle safely landed, it was
suggested that he might be recaptured. Then there was another rush made
for the steam ferry-boat, which carried over about 400 persons, and left
as many more--a few of the latter being soused in their efforts to get
on the boat. On landing in West Troy, there, sure enough, was the
prisoner, locked up in a strong office, protected by Officers Becker,
Brown and Morrison, and the door barricaded.
Not a moment was lost. Up stairs went a score or more of resolute
men--the rest "piling in" promiscuously, shouting and execrating the
officers. Soon a stone flew against the door--then another--and bang,
bang! went off a couple of pistols, but the officers who fired them took
good care to aim pretty high. The assailants were forced to retreat for
a moment. "They've got pistols," said one. "Who cares?" was the reply;
"they can only kill a dozen of us--come on." More stones and more
pistol-shots ensued. At last the door was pulled open by an immense
negro, and in a moment he was felled by a hatchet in the hands of
Deputy-Sheriff Morrison; but the body of the fallen man blocked up the
door so that it could not be shut, and a friend of the prisoner pulled
him out. Poor fellow! he might well say, "Save me from my friends."
Amid the pulling and hauling, the iron had cut his arms, which were
bleeding profusely, and he could hardly walk, owing to fatigue.
He has since arrived safely in Canada.
Statements made by Martin I. Townsend, Esq., of Troy, who was
counsel for the fugitive, Charles Nalle.
Nalle is an octoroon; his wife has the same infusion of Caucasian blood.
She was the daughter of her master, and had, with her sister, been bred
by him in his family, as his own child. When the father died, both of
these daughters were married and had large families of children. Under
the highly Christian national laws "Old Virginny," these children were
the slaves of their grandfather. The old man died, leaving a will,
whereby he manumitted his daughters and their children, and provided for
the purchase of the freedom of their husbands. The manumission of the
children and grandchildren took effect; but the estate was insufficient
to purchase the husbands of his daughters, and the father of his
grandchildren. The manumitted, by another Christian, "conservative,"
and "national" provision of law, were forced to leave the State, while
the slave husbands remained in slavery. Nalle and his brother-in-law
were allowed for a while to visit their families outside Virginia about
once a year, but were at length ordered to provide themselves with new
wives, as they would be allowed to visit their former ones no more. It
was after this that Nalle and his brother-in-law started for the land of
freedom, guided by the steady light of the north star. Thank God,
neither family now need fear any earthly master or the bay of the
blood-hound dogging their fugitive steps.
Nalle returned to Troy with his family about July, 1860, and resided
with them there for more than seven years. They are all now residents of
the city of Washington, D. C. Nalle and his family are persons of
refined manners, and of the highest respectability. Several of his
children are red-haired, and a stranger would discover no trace of
African blood in their complexions or features. It was the head of this
family whom H. F. Averill proposed to doom to returnless exile and
life-long slavery.
When Nalle was brought from Commissioner Beach's office into the street,
Harriet Tubman, who had been standing with the excited crowd, rushed
amongst the foremost to Nalle, and running one of her arms around his
manacled arm, held on to him without ever loosening her hold through the
more than half-hour's struggle to Judge Gould's office, and from Judge
Gould's office to the dock, where Nalle's liberation was accomplished.
In the melee, she was repeatedly beaten over the head with policemen's
clubs, but she never for a moment released her hold, but cheered Nalle
and his friends with her voice, and struggled with the officers until
they were literally worn out with their exertions, and Nalle was
separated from them.
True, she had strong and earnest helpers in her struggle, some of whom
had white faces as well as human hearts, and are now in Heaven. But she
exposed herself to the fury of the sympathizers with slavery, without
fear, and suffered their blows without flinching. Harriet crossed the
river with the crowd, in the ferry-boat, and when the men who led the
assault upon the door of Judge Stewart's office, were stricken down,
Harriet and a number of other colored women rushed over their bodies,
brought Nalle out, and putting him in the first wagon passing, started
him for the West.