New York, Nov. 8, 1871.
Mr. Lane, Mr. Tappan's personal friend who labored with him in the
Anti-Slavery Cause, and especially in the Vigilance Committee for many
years, from serious affection of his eyes was not prepared to furnish as
full a sketch of his (Mr. T.'s) labors as was desirable. Mr. Tappan was,
therefore, requested to furnish a few reminiscences from his own
store-house, which he kindly did as follows:
WILLIAM STILL, ESQ., My dear Sir:--In answer to your request,
that I would furnish, an article for your forthcoming book,
giving incidents within my personal knowledge, relating to the
Underground Rail Road; I have already apprized you of my illness
and my consequent inability to write such an article as would be
worthy of your publication. However, feeling somewhat relieved
to-day, from my paralysis, owing to the cheering sunshine and
the favor of my Almighty Preserver, I will try to do what I can,
in dictating a few anecdotes to my amanuensis, which may afford
you and your readers some gratification.
These facts I must give without reference to date, as I will not
tax my memory with perhaps a vain attempt to narrate them in
order.
As mentioned in my "Life of Arthur Tappan," some abolitionists
(myself among the number), doubted the propriety of engaging in
such measures as were contemplated by the conductors of the
"Underground Rail Road," fearing that they would not be
justified in aiding slaves to escape from their masters; but
reflection convinced them that it was not only right to assist
men in efforts to obtain their liberty, when unjustly held in
bondage, but a DUTY.
Abolitionists, white and colored, both in slave and free States,
entered into extensive correspondence, set their wits at work to
devise various expedients for the relief from bondage and
transmission to the free States and to Canada, of many of the
most enterprising bondmen and bondwomen. They vied with each
other in devising means for the accomplishment of this object.
Those who had money contributed it freely, and those who were
destitute of money, gave their time, saying with the Apostle:
"Silver and gold have I none; but such as I have, give I thee."
1. I recollect that one morning on reaching my office (that of
the treasurer of the American Missionary Association), my
assistant told me that in the inner room were eighteen
fugitives, men, women and children, who had arrived that morning
from the South in one company. On going into the room, I saw
them lying about on the bales and boxes of clothing destined for
our various missionary stations, fatigued, as they doubtless
were, after their sleepless and protracted struggle for freedom.
On inquiry, I learned that they had come from a southern city.
After most extraordinary efforts, it seemed that they had while
in Slavery, secretly banded together, and put themselves under
the guidance of an intrepid conductor, whom they had hired to
conduct them without the limits of the city, in the evening,
when the police force was changed. They came through
Pennsylvania and New Jersey to my office. The agent of the
Underground Rail Road in New York, took charge of them, and
forwarded them to Albany, and by different agencies to Canada.
2. I well remember that one morning as I entered the
Sabbath-school,[A] one of the scholars, a Mrs. Mercy Smith,
beckoned to me to come to her class, and there introduced to me
a young girl of about fifteen, as a fugitive, who had arrived
the day before. In answer to my inquiries, this girl told me the
name of the southern city, and the names of the persons who had
held her as a slave, and the mode of her escape, etc. "I was
walking near the water," she said, "when a white sailor spoke to
me, and after a few questions, offered to hide me on board his
vessel and conduct me safely to New York, if I would come to him
in the evening. I did so, and was hid and fed by him, and on
landing at New York, he conducted me to Mrs. Smith's house,
where I am now staying."
[Footnote A: For three years I superintended a Sabbath-school
mostly composed of colored children and adults. Most of the
teachers were warm-hearted abolitionists, and the whole number
taught in this school during this period, was seven or eight
hundred.]
To my inquiry, have you parents living, and also brothers and
sisters, she replied: "There is no child but myself." "Were not
your parents kind to you, and did you not love them?" "Yes I
love them very much."
"How were you treated by your master and mistress?" "They
treated me very well." "How then," said I, "could you put
yourself in the care of that sailor, who was a stranger to you,
and leave your parents?" I shall never forget her heart-felt
reply: "_He told me I should be free_!"
One Sunday morning, I received a letter, informing me that an
officer belonging to Savannah, Ga., had started for New York, in
pursuit of two young men, of nineteen or twenty, who had been
slaves of one of the principal physicians of the place, and who
had escaped and were supposed to be in New York. The letter
requested me to find them and give them warning. As there was no
time to be lost, I concluded to go over to New York,
notwithstanding the doubtfulness of attempting to find them in
so large a city. I wrote notices to be read in the colored
churches and colored Sabbath-schools, which I delivered in
person. I then went to the colored school, superintended by Rev.
C.B. Bay. I stated my errand to him, with a description of the
young men. "Why," said he, "I must have one of them in my
school." He took me to a class where I found one of the young
men, to whom I gave the needful information.
He told me that his father was Dr. ---- of Savannah, and that he
had five children by the young man's mother, who was his slave.
On his marriage to a white woman, he sent his five colored
children and their mother to auction, to be sold for cash to the
highest bidder. On being put upon the auction-block, this young
man addressed the bystanders, and told them the circumstances of
the case; that his mother had long lived in the family of the
doctor, that it was cruel to sell her and her children, and he
warned the people not to bid for him, for he would no longer be
a slave to any man, and if any one bought him, he would lose his
money. He added, "I thought it right to say this." I then spoke
to the crowd. "My father," said I, "has long been one of your
first doctors, and do you think it right for him to sell my
mother and his children in this way?"
"I was sold, and my brother also, and the rest, although my
brother said to the crowd what I had said. We soon made our
escape, and are now both in the city. I am a blacksmith, and
have worked six months in one shop, in New York, with white
journeymen, not one of whom believes, I suppose, that I am a
colored man."
It was not surprising, for so fair was his complexion, that with
the aid of a brown wig, after he had cut off his hair, he was
completely disguised. He soon notified his brother, who lived in
another part of the city, and both put themselves out of harm's
way. They were remarkably fine young men, and it seemed a
special Providence that I should find them in such a large city,
and direct them to escape from their pursuer, within one hour
after I left my house in Brooklyn. I felt it to be an answer to
prayer.
4. One day, when I lived in New York City, a colored man came
running to my house, and in a hurried manner, said: "Is this Mr.
Tappan?" On replying in the affirmative, he said: "I have driven
my master from Baltimore. He has just arrived, and the servants
are taking off the baggage at the Astor House. I inquired of a
person passing by, where you lived. He said, 80, White Street,
and I have run here, to tell you that you may give notice to a
man who has escaped from my master, to this city, that the
object of this journey is to find him and take him back to
Slavery."
The man hurried back, so that he need not be missed by his
master, who believed that this coachman, who had lived years
with him, was his confidential servant, and would be true to his
interest.
I went immediately to the house of a colored friend, to describe
the fugitive and see if we could not concert measures to protect
him. "I think," said he, "that I know the man, by your
description, and that he boards in this house. He will soon come
in from South Street, where he has worked to-day." While we were
consulting together, sure enough, the man came in, and was most
glad to have the opportunity thus afforded, of secreting
himself.
I have not strength to dictate much more, although many other
instances occur to me of most remarkable providential
occurrences, of the escape of fugitives within my knowledge. I
used to say that I was the owner of _half-a-horse_ that was in
active service, near the Susquehanna River. This horse I owned
jointly with another friend of the slave, dedicating the animal
to the service of the Underground Rail Road.
It was customary for the agent at Havre de Grace, bringing a
fugitive to the river, to kindle a fire (as it was generally in
the night), to give notice to a person living on the opposite
side of the river. This person well understood the signal, and
would come across in his boat and receive the fugitive.
An aged colored couple, residing in Brooklyn, came over to my
office, in New York City, and said that they had just heard from
Wilmington, N.C., that their two sons (about twenty-five or
twenty-six years of age), who were slaves, were about to be
sold, for one thousand dollars each; and they hoped I should be
able and willing to assist them in raising the money.
I told them that I had scruples about putting money into the
hands of slave-holders, but I would give them something that
might be of as much value. I then pointed out a way by which
their sons might reach the city.
In about three weeks, one of the young men came to my office.
Give me, said I, some particulars of your escape. "I am," said
he, "a builder, and planned and erected the hotel at Wilmington,
and some other houses. I used to hire my time of my master, and
was accustomed to ride about the country attending to my
business. I borrowed a pass from a man about my size and
complexion. I then went to the rail road office, and asked for a
ticket for Fredericksburg. From there I came on directly to
Washington. I had not been questioned before; but here, I was
taken up and carried before a magistrate. He examined me by the
description in my pass; complexion, height, etc., then read
'_and a scar under his left knee_.' When I heard that, my heart
sank within me; for I had no scar there that I knew. 'Pull up
the boy's trowsers,' said the justice to the constable. He did
so. and said 'here's a scar!' 'All right,' said the justice, 'no
mistake, let him go.' Glad was I. I got a ticket for Baltimore,
and there for another town, and finally reached here."
You asked me to give an account of the sums that I have expended
for the Underground Rail Road, etc. I must be excused from doing
this, as if I could now ascertain, I should not think it worth
while to mention. I must now conclude my narrative, by giving,
with some additions, an account of an interesting escape from
Slavery, which was written by my wife, more than fifteen years
ago, for Frederic Douglass' paper.
[On page 177 the narrative of "The Fleeing Girl of Fifteen" is
so fully written out, that it precludes the necessity of
reproducing a large portion of this story.]
In the evening a friend arrived, bringing with him a bright,
handsome _boy_, whom he called Joe. Most heartily was "Joe"
welcomed, and deep was the thrill which we felt, as we looked
upon him and thought of the perils he had escaped. The next day
was Thanksgiving-day, and my house was thronged with guests. In
an upper room, with a comfortable fire, and the door locked, sat
"Joe," still in boy's clothes, to be able to escape at the first
intimation of danger, but with a smile and look of touching
gratitude, whenever any one of the family who was in the secret,
left the festive group to look in upon the interesting stranger.
Not one of us can ever forget the deep abhorrence of Slavery,
and thanksgiving to Almighty God, that we felt that day as we
moved among the guests, who were wholly ignorant of the occupant
of that upper room. Some curiosity was indeed excited among the
little grandchildren, who saw slices of turkey and plum pudding
sent up stairs. It was "Joe's" first Thanksgiving dinner in a
free State.
As she brought nothing away with her, it was necessary, the next
day, to procure a complete wardrobe for a girl, which was
carefully packed for her to take with her.
The second day after "Joe's" arrival, the Rev. Mr. Freeman,
pastor of a colored church in Brooklyn, agreed to accompany her
to her uncle Brown's in Canada West, and we saw them depart,
knowing the danger that would beset both on the way. The
following is part of a letter from Mr. F., giving an account of
their journey. After stating that they left New York, in the
cars at five o'clock, P.M., and through the providence of God,
went on their way safely and speedily, with none to molest or to
make them afraid, he says:
"On reaching Rochester, I began to ask myself 'how shall
we get over Niagara Falls?' I was not sure that the cars
ran across the Suspension Bridge; besides, I felt that
we were in more danger here, than we had been at any
other place. Knowing that there was a large reward
offered for Joe's apprehension, I feared there might be
some lurking spy ready to pounce upon us. But when we
arrived at the Bridge, the conductor said: 'Sit still;
this car goes across.' You may judge of my joy and
relief of mind, when I looked out and was sure that we
were over! Thank God, I exclaimed, we are safe in
Canada!
Having now a few minutes before the cars would start
again, I sat down and hastily wrote a few lines, to
inform friends at home of our safe arrival. As soon as
possible, I ran to the post-office with my letter, paid
the postage, and while I was waiting for my change, the
car bell rang. I quickly returned, and in a few minutes,
we were on our way to Chatham (200 miles West). That
place we reached between seven and eight o'clock,
Saturday evening. When we got out, we met a gentleman
who asked me if I wanted a boarding-house. I said yes;
and he invited me to go with him. I asked him if there
was any way for us to get to Dresden that night. He
answered, 'No, it is a dark night, and a muddy road, and
no conveyance can be got tonight.' I soon found that we
must stay in Chatham until Monday morning.
On our way to the boarding-house, the gentleman said to
me: 'Is this your son with you?' I answered, no; and
then I asked him, if he knew a man living in D., by the
name of Bradley. He replied that he was very well
acquainted with him, and then inquired if that young man
was Mr. Bradley's brother. I said, no--not exactly a
brother. He must have thought it strange that I did not
give him a more definite answer to his question.
When we reached the house, we found several boarders in
the sitting-room and a few neighbors. I had already told
him my name, but with regard to Joe, I had not yet had a
chance to explain. I, of course, was introduced to those
who were in the room, but Joe--well, Joe took a seat,
and did not seem to be troubled about an introduction.
As the landlord was going out of the room, I asked
permission to speak with him alone. He took me into
another room, and I said to him: 'That young man, as you
call him, is a young woman, and has come dressed in this
manner, all the way from Washington City. She would be
very glad now to be able to change her clothes.'
He was greatly surprised, and would hardly believe that
it was so; but said, 'I will call my wife.' She came,
and I guess all the women in the house came with her.
They soon disappeared, and Joe with them, who, after
being absent a while, returned, and was introduced as
Miss Ann Maria Weems. The whole company were on their
feet, shook hands, laughed, and rejoiced, declaring that
this beat all they had ever seen before. Chatham
contains, I was told, more than three thousand
fugitives. The weather there, is not colder than in New
York.
The next morning was the Sabbath, but this I must pass
and hasten to D., the residence of Mr. Bradley. We
started early Monday morning. As a part of the road was
very bad, we did not reach there till a late hour. As we
were passing along, and getting near to the place, we
met two colored men who were talking together--one on
horseback, and the other on foot. I inquired of them, if
they could tell me how far it was to Mr. Bradley's. The
man on horseback said it was about a mile further, and
then proceeded to give directions. After he had done
this, he said: 'I reckon I am the one that you want to
find, my name is Bradley.' Well, I replied, probably you
are the man. Just then Ann Maria turned her head around.
As soon as he saw her face, he exclaimed: 'My Lord!
Maria, is that you? Is that you? My child, is it you? We
never expected to see you again! We had given you up; O,
what will your aunt say? It will kill her! She will die!
It will kill her.'
I told him, that as I was obliged to leave again soon, I
must proceed. 'Well,' said he, 'you go on; I am just
going over to M., and will be back in a few minutes.' We
started for his house, and he towards M., but we had
only gone a short distance, when he overtook us,
exclaiming: 'I can't go to M.,' and began talking to Ann
Maria, asking her all about her friends and relatives,
whom they had left behind, and about his old master, and
his wife's master, from whom they had run away four
years before. As we approached the house, he said: 'I
will go and open the gate, and have a good fire to warm
you.' When he came up to the gate, he met his wife, who
was returning from a store or neighbor's house, and he
said to her, 'That's Ann Maria coming yonder.' She
stopped until we came to the gate; the tears were
rolling from her eyes, and she exclaimed: 'Ann Maria, is
it you?' The girl leaped from the wagon, and they fell
on each other's necks, weeping and rejoicing. Such a
scene I never before witnessed. She, who had been given
up as lost, was now found! She, who but a short time
before, had been, as they supposed, a slave for life,
was now free.
We soon entered the house, and after the first gush of
feeling had somewhat subsided, they both began a general
inquiry about the friends they had left behind. Every
now and then, the aunt would break out: 'My child, you
are here! Thank God, you are free! We were talking about
you today, and saying, we shall never see you again; and
now here you are with us.' I remained about an hour and
a half with them, took dinner, and then started for
home, rejoicing that I had been to a land where colored
men are free.
This Mr. Bradley, who ran away with himself and wife
about four years ago from the land of whips and chains,
is the owner of two farms, and is said to be worth three
thousand dollars. Can slaves take care of themselves?"
You may well suppose that the receipt of this letter gave us
great pleasure, and called forth heartfelt thanksgiving to Him,
who had watched over this undertaking, and protected all
concerned in it. A bright and promising girl had been rescued
from the untold miseries of a slave woman's life, and found a
good home, where she would have an opportunity to acquire an
education and be trained for a useful and happy life. Mr.
Bradley intended to send for her parents, and hoped to prevail
on them to come and live with him.
Truly yours,