SECRETED TEN MONTHS BEFORE STARTING--EIGHT DAYS STOWED AWAY ON A STEAMER
BOUND FOR PHILADELPHIA.
Arrived from Norfolk, about the 1st of November, 1854. Ten months before
starting, Anthony had been closely concealed. He belonged to the estate
of Mrs. Peters, a widow, who had been dead about one year before his
concealment.
On the settlement of his old mistress' estate, which was to take place
one year after her death, Anthony was to be transferred to Mrs. Lewis, a
daughter of Mrs. Peters (the wife of James Lewis, Esq.). Anthony felt
well satisfied that he was not the slave to please the "tyrannical
whims" of his anticipated master, young Lewis, and of course he hated
the idea of having to come under his yoke. And what made it still more
unpleasant for Anthony was that Mr. Lewis would frequently remind him
that it was his intention to "sell him as soon as he got possession--the
first day of January." "I can get fifteen hundred dollars for you
easily, and I will do it." This contemptuous threat had caused Anthony's
blood to boil time and again. But Anthony had to take the matter as
calmly as possible, which, however, he was not always able to do.
At any rate, Anthony concluded that his "young master had counted the
chickens before they were hatched." Indeed here Anthony began to be a
deep thinker. He thought, for instance, that he had already been shot
three times, at the instance of slave-holders. The first time he was
shot was for refusing a flogging when only eighteen years of age. The
second time, he was shot in the head with squirrel shot by the sheriff,
who was attempting to arrest him for having resisted three "young white
ruffians," who wished to have the pleasure of beating him, but got
beaten themselves. And in addition to being shot this time, Anthony was
still further "broke in" by a terrible flogging from the Sheriff. The
third time Anthony was shot he was about twenty-one years of age. In
this instance he was punished for his old offence--he "would not be
whipped."
This time his injury from being shot was light, compared with the two
preceding attacks. Also in connection with these murderous conflicts, he
could not forget that he had been sold on the auction block. But he had
still deeper thinking to do yet. He determined that his young master
should never get "fifteen hundred dollars for him on the 1st of
January," unless he got them while he (Anthony) was running. For Anthony
had fully made up his mind that when the last day of December ended, his
bondage should end also, even if he should have to accept death as a
substitute. He then began to think of the Underground Rail Road and of
Canada; but who the agents were, or how to find the depot, was a serious
puzzle to him. But his time was getting so short he was convinced that
whatever he did would have to be done quickly. In this frame of mind he
found a man who professed to know something about the Underground Rail
Road, and for "thirty dollars" promised to aid him in the matter.
The thirty dollars were raised by the hardest effort and passed over to
the pretended friend, with the expectation that it would avail greatly
in the emergency. But Anthony found himself sold for thirty dollars, as
nothing was done for him. However, the 1st day of January arrived, but
Anthony was not to be found to answer to his name at roll call. He had
"took out" very early in the morning. Daily he prayed in his place of
concealment how to find the U.G.R.R. Ten months passed away, during
which time he suffered almost death, but persuaded himself to believe
that even that was better than slavery. With Anthony, as it has been
with thousands of others similarly situated, just as everything was
looking the most hopeless, word came to him in his place of concealment
that a friend named Minkins, employed on the steamship City of Richmond,
would undertake to conceal him on the boat, if he could be crowded in a
certain place, which was about the only spot that would be perfectly
safe. This was glorious news to Anthony; but it was well for him that he
was ignorant of the situation that awaited him on the boat, or his heart
might have failed him. He was willing, however, to risk his life for
freedom, and, therefore, went joyfully.
The hiding-place was small and he was large. A sitting attitude was the
only way he could possibly occupy it. He was contented. This place was
"near the range, directly over the boiler," and of course, was very
warm. Nevertheless, Anthony felt that he would not murmur, as he knew
what suffering was pretty well, and especially as he took it for granted
that he would be free in about a day and a half--the usual time it took
the steamer to make her trip. At the appointed hour the steamer left
Norfolk for Philadelphia, with Anthony sitting flat down in his U.G.R.R.
berth, thoughtful and hopeful. But before the steamer had made half her
distance the storm was tossing the ship hither and thither fearfully.
Head winds blew terribly, and for a number of days the elements seemed
perfectly mad. In addition to the extraordinary state of the weather,
when the storm subsided the fog took its place and held the mastery of
the ship with equal despotism until the end of over seven days, when
finally the storm, wind, and fog all disappeared, and on the eighth day
of her boisterous passage the steamship City of Richmond landed at the
wharf of Philadelphia, with this giant and hero on board who had
suffered for ten months in his concealment on land and for eight days on
the ship.
Anthony was of very powerful physical proportions, being six feet three
inches in height, quite black, very intelligent, and of a temperament
that would not submit to slavery. For some years his master, Col.
Cunnagan, had hired him out in Washington, where he was accused of being
in the schooner Pearl, with Capt. Drayton's memorable "seventy fugitives
on board, bound for Canada." At this time he was stoker in a machine
shop, and was at work on an anchor weighing "ten thousand pounds." In
the excitement over the attempt to escape in the Pearl, many were
arrested, and the officers with irons visited Anthony at the machine
shop to arrest him, but he declined to let them put the hand-cuffs on
him, but consented to go with them, if permitted to do so without being
ironed. The officers yielded, and Anthony went willingly to the jail.
Passing unnoticed other interesting conflicts in his hard life, suffice
it to say, he left his wife, Ann, and three children, Benjamin, John and
Alfred, all owned by Col. Cunnagan. In this brave-hearted man, the
Committee felt a deep interest, and accorded him their usual
hospitalities.