In the year 1801, a Captain Dana engaged passage in a Philadelphia
schooner bound to Charleston, South Carolina. The day he expected to
sail, he called at the house of a colored woman, and told her he had a
good suit of clothes, too small for his own son, but about the right
size for her little boy. He proposed to take the child home to try the
garments, and if they fitted him he would make him a present of them.
The mother was much gratified by these friendly professions, and dressed
the boy up as well as she could to accompany the captain, who gave him
a piece of gingerbread, took him by the hand, and led him away. Instead
of going to his lodgings, as he had promised, he proceeded directly to
the schooner, and left the boy in care of the captain: saying that he
himself would come on board while the vessel was on the way down the
river. As they were about to sail, a sudden storm came on. The wind
raged so violently, that the ship dragged her anchor, and they were
obliged to haul to at a wharf in the district of Southwark. A
respectable man, who lived in the neighborhood, was standing on the
wharf at the time, and hearing a child crying very bitterly on board the
vessel, he asked the colored cook whose child that was, and why he was
in such distress. He replied that a passenger by the name of Dana
brought him on board, and that the boy said he stole him from his
mother.
A note was immediately despatched to Isaac T. Hopper, who, being away
from home, did not receive it till ten o'clock at night. The moment he
read it, he called for a constable, and proceeded directly to the
schooner. In answer to his inquiries, the captain declared that all the
hands had gone on shore, and that he was entirely alone in the vessel.
Friend Hopper called for a light, and asked him to open the forecastle,
that they might ascertain whether any person were there. He peremptorily
refused; saying that his word ought to be sufficient to satisfy them.
Friend Hopper took up an axe that was lying on the deck, and declared
that he would break the door, unless it was opened immediately. In this
dilemma, the captain, with great reluctance, unlocked the forecastle;
and there they found the cook and the boy. The constable took them all
in custody, and they proceeded to the mayor's. The rain fell in
torrents, and it was extremely dark; for in those days, there were no
lamps in that part of the city. They went stumbling over cellar doors,
and wading through gutters, till they arrived in Front street, where Mr.
Inskeep, the mayor, lived. It was past midnight, but when a servant
informed him that Isaac T. Hopper had been ringing at the door, and
wished to see him, he ordered him to be shown up into his chamber. After
apologizing for the unseasonableness of the hour, he briefly stated the
urgency of the case, and asked for a verbal order to put the captain and
cook in prison to await their trial the next morning. The magistrate
replied, "It is a matter of too much importance to be disposed of in
that way. I will come down and hear the case." A large hickory log,
which had been covered with ashes in the parlor fire-place, was raked
open, and they soon had a blazing fire to dry their wet garments, and
take off the chill of a cold March storm. The magistrate was surprised
to find that the captain was an old acquaintance; and he expressed much
regret at meeting him under such unpleasant circumstances. After some
investigation into the affair, he was required to appear for trial the
next morning, under penalty of forfeiting three thousand dollars. The
cook was committed to prison, as a witness; and the colored boy was sent
home with Isaac T. Hopper, who agreed to produce him at the time
appointed.
Very early the next morning, he sent a messenger to inform the mother
that her child was in safety; but she was off in search of him, and was
not to be found. On the way to the mayor's office, they met her in the
street, half distracted. As soon as she perceived her child, she cried
out, "My son! My son!" threw her arms round him, and sobbed aloud. She
kissed him again and again, saying, "Oh my child, I thought I had lost
you forever."
When they all arrived at the mayor's office, at the hour appointed for
trial, the captain protested that he had no knowledge of anything wrong
in the business, having merely taken care of the boy at the request of a
passenger. When he was required to appear at the next court to answer to
the charge of kidnapping, he became alarmed, and told where Captain Dana
could be arrested. His directions were followed, and the delinquent was
seized and taken to Isaac T. Hopper's house. He was in a towering
passion, protesting his innocence, and threatening vengeance against
everybody who should attempt to detain him. Badly as Friend Hopper
thought of the man, he almost wished he had escaped, when he discovered
that he had a wife and children to suffer for his misdoings. His tender
heart would not allow him to be present at the trial, lest his wife
should be there in distress. She did not appear, however, and Captain
Dana made a full confession, alleging poverty as an excuse. He was an
educated man, and had previously sustained a fair reputation. He was
liberated on bail for fifteen hundred dollars, which was forfeited; but
the judgments were never enforced against his securities.