In the year of 1808 a Southerner arrested a fugitive slave in
Philadelphia and committed him to prison. When he called for him, with
authority to take him back to the South, the poor fellow seemed
dreadfully distressed. He told the keeper that his master was very
severe, and he knew that terrible sufferings awaited him if he was again
placed in his power. He hesitated long before he followed the keeper to
the iron gate, through which he was to pass out of prison. When he saw
his oppressor standing there with fetters in his hand, ready to take him
away, he stopped and pleaded in the most piteous tones for permission to
find a purchaser in Philadelphia. His owner took not the slightest
notice of these humble entreaties, but in a peremptory manner ordered
him to come out. The slave trembled all over, and said in the fainting
accents of despair, "Master, I _can't_ go with you!"
"Come out, you black rascal!" exclaimed the inexorable tyrant. "Come out
immediately!"
The poor wretch advanced timidly a few steps, then turned back
suddenly, as if overcome with mortal fear. The master became very
impatient, and in angry vociferous tones commanded the keeper to bring
him out by force.
All this time, the keeper had stood with his hand on the key of the iron
door, very reluctant to open it. But at last he unlocked it, and told
the poor terrified creature that he must go. He rushed to the door in
the frenzy of desperation, gazed in his master's face for an instant,
then flew back, took a sharp knife, which he had concealed about him,
and drew it across his throat with such force, that he fell senseless
near his master's feet, spattering his garments with blood. All those
who witnessed this awful scene, supposed the man was dead. Dr. Church,
physician of the prison, examined the wound, and said there was scarcely
a possibility that he could survive, though the wind-pipe was not
entirely separated. But even the terrible admonition of that ghastly
spectacle produced no relenting feelings in the hard heart of the
slaveholder. He still demanded to have his victim delivered up to him.
When the keeper declined doing it, and urged the reason that the
physician said he could not be moved without imminent danger to his
life, the brutal tyrant exclaimed, "Damn him! He's my property; and I
_will_ have him, dead or alive. If he dies, it's nobody's loss but
mine."
As he had the mayor's warrant for taking him, the keeper dared not incur
the responsibility of disobeying his requisitions. He convened the
inspectors for consultation; and they all agreed that any attempt to
remove the wounded man would render them accessory to his death. They
laid the case before the mayor, who ordered that the prisoner should
remain undisturbed till the physician pronounced him out of danger. When
the master was informed of this, he swore that nobody had any right to
interfere between him and his property. He cursed the mayor, threatened
to prosecute the keeper, and was in a furious rage with every body.
Meanwhile, the sympathy of Isaac T. Hopper was strongly excited in the
case, and he obtained a promise from the physician that he would let him
know if there was any chance that the slave would recover. Contrary to
all expectation, he lingered along day after day; and in about a week,
the humane physician signified to Friend Hopper, and Joseph Price, one
of the inspectors, that a favorable result might now be anticipated. Of
course, none of them considered it a duty to inform the master of their
hopes. They undertook to negotiate for the purchase of the prisoner, and
obtained him for a moderate price. The owner was fully impressed with
the belief that he would die before long, and therefore regarded the
purchase of him as a mere freak of humanity, by which he was willing
enough to profit. When he heard soon afterward that the doctor
pronounced him out of danger, he was greatly enraged. But his suffering
victim was beyond the reach of his fury, which vented itself in harmless
execrations.
The colored man lived many years, to enjoy the liberty for which he had
been willing to sacrifice his life. He was a sober, honest,
simple-hearted person, and always conducted in a manner entirely
satisfactory to those who had befriended him in his hour of utmost need.