PLUCKY CHARLEY.
I.
“Cha’ley, I say Cha’ley, a’ my chil’ns gone ’cept you, and Massa’s done
gone an’ sol’ you, and I’ll nebber see you ’gin in a’ dis bressed wu’l’,
nebber! nebber!”
“Guess not, mudder; ol’ Massa promised you when he put de udders in de
coffle to keep me allus.”
“Yes, Cha’ley, dat am so, but dis bery mornin’ I hear ’im tell dat
unspec’ble trader he’ll sen’ you to him Monday mornin’ shu’ah, an’ dat
he mus’ put yer in jail till he start de drove fur down de riber. May de
Lor’ help yer my chil’ when yer ol’ mudder’s ha’t am clean broke.”
“De Lor’ help you, mudder; dis chil’ help hisself, so jus’ gib me my
dinnah, mudder, fo’ I mus go to de fiel’ to do Massa’s arran’ to de
boss.”
Had the ear of the reader been present in the little back kitchen of a
fine plantation residence in Loudoun county, Virginia, in the autumn of
1855, the above conversation might have been heard between a colored
woman rather past middle life and her son, an athletic young man of
about twenty years of age, as they conversed in low tones. The woman had
long been the cook in the family and had lived to see her husband and
all her children except Charley, the youngest, sold for the southern
market, joined in the coffle like so many beasts and driven away.
To alleviate her agony, she had been promised that Charley should ever
remain with her, and resting in this promise she had toiled unrepiningly
on, whilst the growing lad had been kept as a kind of boy-of-all chores
about the house, going occasionally, as a kind of body servant with his
master to Washington, Baltimore and Wheeling, thus being enabled, by
close observation, to pick up a little general knowledge.
Thus things had passed until the morning of the day in question, when
she accidently overheard the sale of the boy, and with an aching heart
communicated the news to him as he came to the kitchen as usual for his
dinner. How earnestly her mother’s heart may have prayed that the Lord
would open up a way of escape for her darling boy no one can tell,
neither does it matter, for no sooner was the fact of the sale
communicated to him than the mental resolve of the youth was taken to
effect an escape.
The frugal dinner was dispatched in silence, the mission to the field
duly executed and a prompt return thereof made, much to the satisfaction
of the master.
II.
Night, sable goddess, had spread her curtain over earth, and the valleys
amid the Alleghenies were sleeping in quiet, when Charley, crawling from
his couch, so stealthily, indeed, as not to disturb the early slumbers
of his mother, crept softly to the stable, saddled his master’s best
steed, noiselessly led it to the public highway beyond the mansion, and,
turning its head toward the realm of freedom, mounted, and giving the
noble beast the rein, was soon moving with such velocity as to place
fifty miles between him and his master and mother by the time the first
gray tinge of morning began to break along the eastern hills. Hiding
deep into a wooded ravine he secured the horse for the day, and then
betook himself to sleep. At evening he unloosed the beast stripping it
of saddle and bridle, and then betook himself to the woods and by-ways,
shunning all towns and subsisting on green corn and such fruits as he
could find for a period of fifteen days, when, weary and forlorn, he
entered Wheeling just before daylight. An utter stranger, and almost
perishing with hunger, he knew not what to do, but seeing a light in the
bar-room of the City Hotel he resolved to enter, hoping to find some
attendant of his own race, to whom he could appeal for food and
assistance across the river. Instead of an attaché, the landlord was
himself already astir. Though residing on sacred soil and in many
respects a typical Virginian, mine host kept only hired servants, and
though in no wise disposed to discuss the merits of the peculiar
institution pro or con, he was often able to make wise suggestions to
the thoughtless or inconsiderate of both sections who might temporarily
be his guests.
Once fairly within and under the scrutinizing gaze of this man, Charley
made bold to ask for bread.
“Bread, you want, do you, you black runaway?” said the landlord rather
roughly.
“I’ze no runa—”
“Yes you are you black rascal. Come go with me and I’ll show you
something.”
Instinctively following the footsteps of the landlord, Charley was led
to the stable where he recognized at once his master’s horse. Then the
man took a paper from his pocket and read a complete description of him,
and closed by saying: “You are this Charley and your master will give
$500 to any man who will return you.”
Seeing he was caught, Charley pleaded, “O Lor,’ Massa, doan gib me up.”
“No, I’ll not; your master is close at hand. Do you see that house
across the lot yonder?”
“Yes, Massa, I sees.”
“Well, you go there quick. Tell them I sent you and that they must take
care of you. Go right in at the back door. Be quick or you’ll be
caught.”
With both heart and feet a-bound, Charley made for the designated place.
He found only a woman, sick upon her bed. Ere he had fairly made his
errand known, there was heard the sound of horses’ feet upon the street,
and looking out, Charley saw his master and another man coming at full
speed, and began to cry.
“Get under the bed, quick, and keep perfectly still,” said the woman; a
command which was obeyed without questioning. Catching up her baby, the
woman gave it a tumble which set it to crying like mad. Just then the
master thrust his head in at the door and inquired, “Have you seen a
young nigger come in here?”
“Hush h-u!” “Wah ka-wa!” “What did!” “Wha-ka wa wa!” “hush there—did you
say?” “Ka-wha wa wah.”
“I say did”—“ka wha ka wha wa!” “did you see a young nigger come in
here?”
“We wha ke wah wa!” “hush-t-h-e-re!”—“husband is”—“we wa wah!”—“at the
barn!”—“we wa ah!”—“he can tell you!”—“wa we wah ke wha!” and the door
was slammed to by the disgusted Southeron.
Whilst the trio were hastening to the barn, Charley, in obedience to the
woman’s directions, hastily ascended a ladder in the corner of the room,
which he drew up, and placed a board in such a way as to obliterate all
appearance of an opening in the floor.
The conference at the barn was short, and away went the riders up the
road in hot pursuit of a mythical nigger the man at the barn had seen
running in that direction not half an hour before.
In a few minutes the husband returned to the house, milk pail in hand,
but entirely ignorant of what had transpired within. “What about the
boy, wife, those men were enquiring about? I supposed they were in
pursuit of some one, so I sent them up the road after an imaginary man,”
he said.
“Well, I don’t know anything about your imaginary man, but I know about
the boy,” replied the wife.
“Well, where is he?”
“He went from under my bed up the ladder whilst the men were going for
you. Baby helped the matter mightily. Now you must carry the poor fellow
something to eat.”
As soon as it was deemed safe, the ladder was let down, and Charley was
supplied with a hearty breakfast, and then bidden to make himself
comfortable for the day, a thing he was not slow to do, as he had slept
little since his flight began. When evening came, he was called down,
and after a bountiful supper, which was dispatched in silence, he was
taken to the road where three horses were standing. On one of these a
man was already seated; the second Charley was bidden to mount, and into
the saddle of the third his kind host vaulted.
Moving around the town, they came to a road leading northward, Charley’s
feelings alternately ebbing and flowing between fear and hope, for,
notwithstanding the kindness of his host and hostess, he could but fear
that he was to be given up for the $500.
Proceeding some distance up the river, the horses were hitched in some
bushes and the party descended to the river, where a boat was loosened
and Charley was bidden to enter. When all were seated, the little craft
pushed out into the stream, and soon Charley and his host stepped onto
the other shore. Going up the bank into a public highway, the man placed
in his hands some little articles of clothing and some bread, and then,
pointing with the index finger, said: “Yonder is the North Star; you are
now in a free state and may go forward; may God bless you; good-by;” and
before Charley, in his astonishment, could utter a word, he was gone. A
few moments the fugitive stood in a reverie which was broken by the
splash of the oar in the river below, and he awoke to the consciousness
that he was again alone. On the one hand was the beautiful river, whose
outline he could dimly see; on the other were far-reaching fields, with
no habitation looming up in the darkness, and above him was the star
bespangled sky, among whose myriad twinklers he looked in vain for the
one which had so recently been pointed out to him. Alas, the
defectiveness of his education! whilst others of his kind had been
diligent in securing a definite knowledge of this loadstone of the
Heavens, he had been happy in the discharge of the light duties of his
childhood home, never once thinking of flight until the fact of his sale
was broken to him by his mother, and then there was no time for
schooling. The dazed condition in which he now found himself from the
revelations of the past hour caused him to look up to the starry
firmament as into vacancy, finding nothing with which to guide himself.
At length he proceeded a short distance, but becoming bewildered he sat
down and soon fell asleep and dreamed that two men came and were putting
him in jail. His struggles and resistance wakened him, and he set out
and proceeded as best he could in the darkness. Just at daylight he
espied a piece of paper nailed to a fence.
Approaching it he perceived it had upon it the picture of a negro
running, and in every way looked like the one the landlord had shown him
in the barn. Whilst standing thus before the picture, wrapped in thought
as to what to do next, he felt a hand laid upon his shoulder, and
turning saw a man with a very broad-brimmed hat and so peculiarly
clothed as he had never seen one before. He was about to run when the
man said: “Stop, friend, thee need not run. What have we here?” and
reading the bill, he at once remarked: “Why, friend, this means thee,
and thy master is ready to pay any man $500, who will place thee in his
hands. Come with me or somebody may enrich himself at thy expense.”
There was something so kind and frank in the manner and words of the man
that Charley followed him to a retreat deep in the woods. Seeing that he
had bread with him, the stranger said: “Keep quiet and I will bring thee
more food to-night,” and immediately left.
As was customary in other cases, hand-bills minutely describing Charley
had been widely distributed, and, of course, read by everybody, and it
being a free country everybody had a right to apply the information
gained as he saw fit. So it was that when Charley’s master crossed into
Ohio twelve hours after his chattel, and proceeded northward, he found
no lack of persons who had seen just such a person that very day. Even
our friend of the early morning described him minutely and had seen him
wending his way into the interior only a few hours before, bearing with
him a little bundle. As the route at this season of the year was
supposed to be towards Sandusky or Detroit, the pursuers were decoyed on
by the way of Carrollton, Allian and Ravenna towards the lake, by the
smooth stories of men who had seen him only a day or two before—but only
on paper. Wearied, however, they at length committed his capture to the
hands of the organized set of biped hounds which infested the whole
south shore from Detroit to Buffalo, and returned homeward.
When Charley’s friend returned to him in the evening, he informed him of
the little interview he had had with his master, and that it would be
necessary for him to remain some time in his charge. He was consequently
taken to a more comfortable hiding place, and after the lapse of some
three weeks was forwarded by way of New Lisbon, Poland, and Indian Run,
to Meadville, and thence by way of Cambridge and Union to the parsonage
at Wattsburg.
III.
The traveler who has been swept along on the Nickle Plate or Lake Shore
Rail Road over the Black Swamp country and onward through Cleveland,
Ashtabula and Erie, seeing little that savors of roughness, except
perchance the gulches about the Forest City, the bluffs at Euclid and
Little Mountain in the distance, would little think as he crosses the
unpretentious bridges spanning Six-Mile-Creek, east of Erie, that just a
little way back it passed through some wild and rugged country; yet such
is the fact. Down through a deep gorge come its crystal waters, whilst
high above them on its precipitate banks the hemlock has cast its somber
shadows for centuries. Into a thin, scarcely accessible portion of this
gorge came years ago John Cass, and took possession of a primitive
“carding works,” where he diligently plied his craft, rearing his sons
and daughters to habits of industry, frugality, virtue, and a love of
their little church, which is situated some two miles away on an
elevated plateau, which, from its largely Celtic population has acquired
the appelation of “Wales.”
The little Celts of this rural community were very much surprised one
winter day to see their old pastor, Parson Rice, who resided at
Wattsburg, go dashing by the school-house with a colored man in his
sleigh. Never before had their unsophisticated eyes seen such a sight,
and what they that day beheld was the all-engrossing theme in the homes
of the Joneses, the Williamses and the Davises that night.
As for Parson Rice, he kept right on down, down, until he reached the
carding works of his worthy parishioner, where the woolly head of
Charley was safely hidden amid fleeces of a far whiter hue.
In this retreat he remained for some time, and was taught his letters by
the young Casses, William, Edward, Jane and the others. When, at length,
it was deemed safe to remove him, he was taken by Mrs. Cass to the
office of the _True American_ in the city. From this, after a little
delay, he was conveyed to the home of Col. Jas. Moorhead, who passed him
on to Parson Nutting, at State Line, by whom he was duly forwarded to
Knowlton Station, Westfield, New York.
Though the temperature was below zero, it was again getting hot for
Charley, for vigilant eyes all along the line were watching for the
young nigger whose return to his master was sure to bring $500, and that
he had reached the lake shore was now a well ascertained fact, and
unusual activity was noticed among the kidnapping crew.
It was a bitter cold day, with the snow flying and drifting, that Mr.
Knowlton’s spanking team of jet blacks, still well remembered by many a
Westfielder, came out of his yard attached to a sleigh, in the bottom of
which was a package evidently of value, as it was carefully covered with
blankets and robe. Under a tight rein the team headed eastward, and with
almost the fleetness of the wind passed Portland, Brocton, and turning
at the old Pemberton stand, in Fredonia, made Pettit Station. Here
Charley was made safe and happy for the night, and the next day was
landed safely in the Queen’s Dominion from Black Rock.