With regard to Peter's separation from his mother, when a little boy, in
few words, the facts were these: His parents, Levin and Sidney, were
both slaves on the Eastern Shore of Maryland. "I will die before I
submit to the yoke," was the declaration of his father to his young
master before either was twenty-one years of age. Consequently he was
allowed to buy himself at a very low figure, and he paid the required
sum and obtained his "free papers" when quite a young man--the young
wife and mother remaining in slavery under Saunders Griffin, as also her
children, the latter having increased to the number of four, two little
boys and two little girls. But to escape from chains, stripes, and
bondage, she took her four little children and fled to a place near
Greenwich, New Jersey. Not a great while, however, did she remain there
in a state of freedom before the slave-hunters pursued her, and one
night they pounced upon the whole family, and, without judge or jury,
hurried them all back to slavery. Whether this was kidnapping or not is
for the reader to decide for himself.
Safe back in the hands of her owner, to prevent her from escaping a
second time, every night for about three months she was cautiously "kept
locked up in the garret," until, as they supposed, she was fully "cured
of the desire to do so again." But she was incurable. She had been a
witness to the fact that her own father's brains had been blown out by
the discharge of a heavily loaded gun, deliberately aimed at his head by
his drunken master. She only needed half a chance to make still greater
struggles than ever for freedom.
She had great faith in God, and found much solace in singing some of the
good old Methodist tunes, by day and night. Her owner, observing this
apparently tranquil state of mind, indicating that she "seemed better
contented than ever," concluded that it was safe to let the garret door
remain unlocked at night. Not many weeks were allowed to pass before she
resolved to again make a bold strike for freedom. This time she had to
leave the two little boys, Levin and Peter, behind.
On the night she started she went to the bed where they were sleeping,
kissed them, and, consigning them into the hands of God, bade her mother
good-bye, and with her two little girls wended her way again to
Burlington County, New Jersey, but to a different neighborhood from that
where she had been seized. She changed her name to Charity, and
succeeded in again joining her husband, but, alas, with the
heart-breaking thought that she had been compelled to leave her two
little boys in slavery and one of the little girls on the road for the
father to go back after. Thus she began life in freedom anew.
Levin and Peter, eight and six years of age respectively, were now left
at the mercy of the enraged owner, and were soon hurried off to a
Southern market and sold, while their mother, for whom they were daily
weeping, was they knew not where. They were too young to know that they
were slaves, or to understand the nature of the afflicting separation.
Sixteen years before Peter's return, his older brother (Levin) died a
slave in the State of Alabama, and was buried by his surviving brother,
Peter.
No idea other than that they had been "kidnapped" from their mother ever
entered their minds; nor had they any knowledge of the State from whence
they supposed they had been taken, the last names of their mother and
father, or where they were born. On the other hand, the mother was aware
that the safety of herself and her rescued children depended on keeping
the whole transaction a strict family secret. During the forty years of
separation, except two or three Quaker friends, including the devoted
friend of the slave, Benjamin Lundy, it is doubtful whether any other
individuals were let into the secret of her slave life. And when the
account given of Peter's return, etc., was published in 1850, it led
some of the family to apprehend serious danger from the partial
revelation of the early condition of the mother, especially as it was
about the time that the Fugitive Slave law was passed.
Hence, the author of "The Kidnapped and the Ransomed" was compelled to
omit these dangerous facts, and had to confine herself strictly to the
"personal recollections of Peter Still" with regard to his being
"kidnapped." Likewise, in the sketch of Seth Concklin's eventful life,
written by Dr. W.H. Furness, for similar reasons he felt obliged to make
but bare reference to his wonderful agency in relation to Peter's
family, although he was fully aware of all the facts in the case.