By the presence of the Dr., confidence having been reassured that all
would be right, as well as by the "inner light," William Penn
experienced a great sense of relief. Everything having been duly
arranged, the doctor's horse and carriage stood waiting before the White
House (William Penn preferred this place as a starting point, rather
than before his own office door). It being understood that "Joe" was to
act as coachman in passing out of Washington, at this moment he was
called for, and in the most polite and natural manner, with the
fleetness of a young deer, he jumped into the carriage, took the reins
and whip, whilst the doctor and William Penn were cordially shaking
hands and bidding adieu. This done, the order was given to Joe, "drive
on." Joe bravely obeyed. The faithful horse trotted off willingly, and
the doctor sat in his carriage as composed as though he had succeeded in
procuring an honorable and lucrative office from the White House, and
was returning home to tell his wife the good news. The doctor had some
knowledge of the roads, also some acquaintances in Maryland, through
which State he had to travel; therefore, after leaving the suburbs of
Washington, the doctor took the reins in his own hands, as he felt that
he was more experienced as a driver than his young coachman. He was also
mindful of the fact, that, before reaching Pennsylvania, his faithful
beast would need feeding several times, and that they consequently would
be obliged to pass one or two nights at least in Maryland, either at a
tavern or farm-house.
In reflecting upon the matter, it occurred to the doctor, that in
earlier days, he had been quite intimately acquainted with a farmer and
his family (who were slave-holders), in Maryland, and that he would
about reach their house at the end of the first day's journey. He
concluded that he could do no better than to renew his acquaintance with
his old friends on this occasion. After a very successful day's travel,
night came on, and the doctor was safely at the farmer's door with his
carriage and waiter boy; the doctor was readily recognized by the farmer
and his family, who seemed glad to see him; indeed, they made quite a
"fuss" over him. As a matter of strategy, the doctor made quite a "fuss"
over them in return; nevertheless, he did not fail to assume airs of
importance, which were calculated to lead them to think that he had
grown older and wiser than when they knew him in his younger days. In
casually referring to the manner of his traveling, he alluded to the
fact, that he was not very well, and as it had been a considerable
length of time since he had been through that part of the country, he
thought that the drive would do him good, and especially the sight of
old familiar places and people. The farmer and his family felt
themselves exceedingly honored by the visit from the distinguished
doctor, and manifested a marked willingness to spare no pains to render
his night's lodging in every way comfortable.
The Dr. being an educated and intelligent gentleman, well posted on
other questions besides medicine, could freely talk about farming in all
its branches, and "niggers" too, in an emergency, so the evening passed
off pleasantly with the Dr. in the parlor, and "Joe" in the kitchen. The
Dr., however, had given "Joe" precept upon precept, "here a little, and
there a little," as to how he should act in the presence of master white
people, or slave colored people, and thus he was prepared to act his
part with due exactness. Before the evening grew late, the Dr., fearing
some accident, intimated, that he was feeling a "little languid," and
therefore thought that he had better "retire." Furthermore he added,
that he was "liable to vertigo," when not quite well, and for this
reason he must have his boy "Joe" sleep in the room with him. "Simply
give him a bed quilt and he will fare well enough in one corner of the
room," said the Dr. The proposal was readily acceded to, and carried
into effect by the accommodating host. The Dr. was soon in bed, sleeping
soundly, and "Joe," in his new coat and pants, wrapped up in the bed
quilt, in a corner of the room quite comfortably.
The next morning the Dr. arose at as early an hour as was prudent for a
gentleman of his position, and feeling refreshed, partook of a good
breakfast, and was ready, with his boy, "Joe," to prosecute their
journey. Face, eyes, hope, and steps, were set as flint,
Pennsylvania-ward. What time the following day or night they crossed
Mason and Dixon's line is not recorded on the Underground Rail Road
books, but at four o'clock on Thanksgiving Day, the Dr. safely landed
the "fleeing girl of fifteen" at the residence of the writer in
Philadelphia. On delivering up his charge, the Dr. simply remarked to
the writer's wife, "I wish to leave this young lad with you a short
while, and I will call and see further about him." Without further
explanation, he stepped into his carriage and hurried away, evidently
anxious to report himself to his wife, in order to relieve her mind of a
great weight of anxiety on his account. The writer, who happened to be
absent from home when the Dr. called, returned soon afterwards. "The Dr.
has been here" (he was the family physician), "and left this 'young
lad,' and said, that he would call again and see about him," said Mrs.
S. The "young lad" was sitting quite composedly in the dining-room, with
his cap on. The writer turned to him and inquired, "I suppose you are
the person that the Dr. went to Washington after, are you not?" "No,"
said "Joe." "Where are you from then?" was the next question. "From
York, sir." "From York? Why then did the Dr. bring you here?" was the
next query, "the Dr. went expressly to Washington after a young girl,
who was to be brought away dressed up as a boy, and I took you to be the
person." Without replying "the lad" arose and walked out of the house.
The querist, somewhat mystified, followed him, and then when the two
were alone, "the lad" said, "I am the one the Dr. went after." After
congratulating her, the writer asked why she had said, that she was not
from Washington, but from York. She explained, that the Dr. had strictly
charged her not to own to any person, except the writer, that she was
from Washington, but from York. As there were persons present (wife,
hired girl, and a fugitive woman), when the questions were put to her,
she felt that it would be a violation of her pledge to answer in the
affirmative. Before this examination, neither of the individuals present
for a moment entertained the slightest doubt but that she was a "lad,"
so well had she acted her part in every particular. She was dressed in a
new suit, which fitted her quite nicely, and with her unusual amount of
common sense, she appeared to be in no respect lacking. To send off a
prize so rare and remarkable, as she was, without affording some of the
stockholders and managers of the Road the pleasure of seeing her, was
not to be thought of. In addition to the Vigilance Committee, quite a
number of persons were invited to see her, and were greatly astonished.
Indeed it was difficult to realize, that she was not a boy, even after
becoming acquainted with the facts in the case.
The following is an exact account of this case, as taken from the
Underground Rail Road records:
"THANKSGIVING DAY, Nov., 1855.
Arrived, Ann Maria Weems, _alias_ 'Joe Wright,' _alias_ 'Ellen
Capron,' from Washington, through the aid of Dr. H. She is about
fifteen years of age, bright mulatto, well grown, smart and
good-looking. For the last three years, or about that length of
time, she has been owned by Charles M. Price, a negro trader, of
Rockville, Maryland. Mr. P. was given to 'intemperance,' to a
very great extent, and gross 'profanity.' He buys and sells many
slaves in the course of the year. 'His wife is cross and
peevish.' She used to take great pleasure in 'torturing' one
'little slave boy.' He was the son of his master (and was owned
by him); this was the chief cause of the mistress' spite."
Ann Maria had always desired her freedom from childhood, and
although not thirteen, when first advised to escape, she
received the suggestion without hesitation, and ever after that
time waited almost daily, for more than two years, the chance to
flee. Her friends were, of course, to aid her, and make
arrangements for her escape. Her owner, fearing that she might
escape, for a long time compelled her to sleep in the chamber
with "her master and mistress;" indeed she was so kept until
about three weeks before she fled. She left her parents living
in Washington. Three of her brothers had been sold South from
their parents. Her mother had been purchased for $1,000, and one
of her sisters for $1,600 for freedom. Before Ann Maria was
thirteen years of age $700 was offered for her by a friend, who
desired to procure her freedom, but the offer was promptly
refused, as were succeeding ones repeatedly made. The only
chance of procuring her freedom, depended upon getting her away
on the Underground Rail Road. She was neatly attired in male
habiliments, and in that manner came all the way from
Washington. After passing two or three days with her new friends
in Philadelphia, she was sent on (in male attire) to Lewis
Tappan, of New York, who had likewise been deeply interested in
her case from the beginning, and who held himself ready, as was
understood, to cash a draft for three hundred dollars to
compensate the man who might risk his own liberty in bringing
her on from Washington. After having arrived safely in New York,
she found a home and kind friends in the family of the Rev. A.N.
Freeman, and received quite an ovation characteristic of an
Underground Rail Road.
After having received many tokens of esteem and kindness from
the friends of the slave in New York and Brooklyn, she was
carefully forwarded on to Canada, to be educated at the "Buxton
Settlement."
An interesting letter, however, from the mother of Ann Maria, conveying
the intelligence of her late great struggle and anxiety in laboring to
free her last child from Slavery is too important to be omitted, and
hence is inserted in connection with this narrative.