Not having the means to purchase a boat, my health also cont

[Illustration: _Daniel Drayton_]

PERSONAL MEMOIR Of DANIEL DRAYTON,

For Four Years And Four Months

A PRISONER (FOR CHARITY'S SAKE) IN WASHINGTON JAIL

Including A Narrative Of The

VOYAGE AND CAPTURE OF THE SCHOONER PEARL.

We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men

are created equal; that they are endowed by their

Creator with certain unalienable rights; that among

these are life, _liberty_, and the pursuit of happiness.

DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE.

1855.

Entered according to Act of Congress, In the year 1853, by

DANIEL DRAYTON,

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of

Massachusetts

ADVERTISEMENT.

Considering the large share of the public attention which the case of

the schooner Pearl attracted at the time of its occurrence, perhaps the

following narrative of its origin, and of its consequences to himself,

by the principal actor in it, may not be without interest. It is proper

to state that a large share of the profits of the sale are secured to

Captain Drayton, the state of whose health incapacitates him from any

laborious employment.

MEMOIR.

I was born in the year 1802, in Cumberland County, Downs Township, in

the State of New Jersey, on the shores of Nantuxet Creek, not far from

Delaware Bay, into which that creek flows. My father was a farmer,--not

a very profitable occupation in that barren part of the country. My

mother was a widow at the time of her marriage with my father, having

three children by a former husband. By my father she had six more, of

whom I was the youngest but one. She was a woman of strong mind and

marked character, a zealous member of the Methodist church; and,

although I had the misfortune to lose her at an early age, her

instructions--though the effect was not apparent at the moment--made a

deep impression on my youthful mind, and no doubt had a very sensible

influence over my future life.

Just previous to, or during the war with Great Britain, my father

removed still nearer to the shore of the bay, and the sight of the

vessels passing up and down inspired me with a desire to follow the life

of a waterman; but it was some years before I was able to gratify this

wish. I well remember the alarm created in our neighborhood by the

incursions of the British vessels up the bay during the war, and that,

at these times, the women of the neighborhood used to collect at our

house, as if looking up to my mother for counsel and guidance.

I was only twelve years old when this good mother died; but, so strong

was the impression which she left upon my memory, that, amid the

struggles and dangers and cares of my subsequent life, I have seldom

closed my eyes to sleep without some thought or image of her.

As my father soon after married another widow, with four small children,

it became necessary to make room in the house for their accommodation;

and, with a younger brother of mine, I was bound out an apprentice in a

cotton and woollen factory at a place called Cedarville. Manufactures

were just then beginning to be introduced into the country, and great

hopes were entertained of them as a profitable business. My

employer,--or bos, as we called him,--had formerly been a schoolmaster,

and he did not wholly neglect our instructions in other things besides

cotton-spinning. Of this I stood greatly in need; for there were no

public schools in the neighborhood in which I was born, and my parents

had too many children to feed and clothe to be able to pay much for

schooling. We were required on Sundays, by our employer, to learn two

lessons, one in the forenoon, the other in the afternoon; after reciting

which we were left at liberty to roam at our pleasure. Winter evenings

we worked in the factory till nine o'clock, after which, and before

going to bed, we were required to recite over one of our lessons These

advantages of education were not great, but even these I soon lost.

Within five months from the time I was bound to him, my employer died.

The factories were then sold out to three partners. The one who carried

on the cotton-spinning took me; but he soon gave up the business, and

went back to farming, which had been his original occupation. I remained

with him for a year and a half, or thereabouts, when my father bound me

out apprentice to a shoe-maker.

My new bos was, in some respects, a remarkable man, but not a very good

sort of one for a boy to be bound apprentice to. He paid very little

attention to his business, which he seemed to think unworthy of his

genius. He was a kind-hearted man, fond of company and frolics, in which

he indulged himself freely, and much given to speeches and harangues, in

which he had a good deal of fluency. In religion he professed to be a

Universalist, holding to doctrines and opinions very different from

those which my mother had instilled into me. He ridiculed those

opinions, and argued against them, but without converting me to his way

of thinking; though, as far as practice went, I was ready enough to

imitate his example. My Sundays were spent principally in taverns,

playing at dominos, which then was, and still is, a favorite game in

that part of the country; and, as the unsuccessful party was expected to

treat, I at times ran up a bill at the bar as high as four or six

dollars,--no small indebtedness for a young apprentice with no more

means than I had.

As I grew older this method of living grew less and less satisfactory

to me; and as I saw that no good of any kind, not even a knowledge of

the trade he had undertaken to teach me, was to be got of my present

bos, I bought my time of him, and went to work with another man to pay

for it. Before I had succeeded in doing that, and while I was not yet

nineteen, I took upon myself the still further responsibility of

marriage. This was a step into which I was led rather by the impulse of

youthful passion than by any thoughtful foresight. Yet it had at least

this advantage, that it obliged me to set diligently to work to provide

for the increasing family which I soon found growing up around me.

I had never liked the shoe-making business, to which my father had bound

me an apprentice. I had always desired to follow the water. The vessels

which I had seen sailing up and down the Delaware Bay still haunted my

fancy; and I engaged myself as cook on board a sloop, employed in

carrying wood from Maurice river to Philadelphia. Promotion in this line

is sufficiently rapid; for in four months, after commencing as cook, I

rose to be captain. This wood business, in which I remained for two

years, is carried on by vessels of from thirty to sixty tons, known as

_bay-craft_. They are built so as to draw but little water, which is

their chief distinction from the _coasters_, which are fit for the open

sea. They will carry from twenty-five to fifty cords of wood, on which a

profit is expected of a dollar and upwards. They have usually about

three hands, the captain, or skipper, included. The men used to be

hired, when I entered the business, for eight or ten dollars the month,

but they now get nearly or quite twice as much. The captain usually

sails the vessel on shares (unless he is himself owner in whole, or in

part), victualling the vessel and hiring the men, and paying over to the

owner forty dollars out of every hundred. During the winter, from

December to March, the navigation is impeded by ice, and the bay-craft

seldom run. The men commonly spend this long vacation in visiting,

husking-frolics, rabbiting, and too often in taverns, to the exhaustion

of their purses, the impoverishment of their families, and the sacrifice

of their sobriety. Yet the watermen, if many of them are not able always

to resist the temptations held out to them, are in general an honest and

simple-hearted set, though with little education, and sometimes rather

rough in their manners. The extent of my education when I took to the

water--and in this respect I was not, perhaps, much inferior to the

generality of my brother watermen--was to read with no great fluency,

and to sign my name; nor did I ever learn much more than this till my

residence in Washington jail, to be related hereafter.

Having followed the wood business for two years, I aspired to something

a little higher, and obtained the command of a sloop engaged in the

coasting business, from Philadelphia southward and eastward. At this

time a sloop of sixty tons was considered a very respectable coaster.

The business is now mostly carried on by vessels of a larger class;

some of them, especially the regular lines of packets, being very

handsome and expensive. The terms on which these coasters were sailed

were very similar to those already stated in the case of the bay-craft.

The captain victualled the vessel, and paid the hands, and received for

his share half the net profits, after deducting the extra expenses of

loading and unloading. It was in this coasting business that the best

years of my life were spent, during which time I visited most of the

ports and rivers between Savannah southward, and St. John, in the

British province of New Brunswick, eastward;--those two places forming

the extreme limits of my voyagings. As Philadelphia was the port from

and to which I sailed, I presently found it convenient to remove my

family thither, and there they continued to live till after my release

from the Washington prison.

I was so successful in my new business, that, besides supporting my

family, I was able to become half owner of the sloop Superior, at an

expense of over a thousand dollars, most of which I paid down. But this

proved a very unfortunate investment. On her second trip after I had

bought into her, returning from Baltimore to Philadelphia by the way of

the Delaware and Chesapeake canal, while off the mouth of the

Susquehannah, she struck, as I suppose, a sunken tree, brought down by a

heavy freshet in that river. The water flowed fast into the cabin. It

was in vain that I attempted to run her ashore. She sunk in five

minutes. The men saved themselves in the boat, which was on deck, and

which floated as she went down. I stood by the rudder till the last, and

stepped off it into the boat, loath enough to leave my vessel, on which

there was no insurance.

By this unfortunate accident I lost everything except the clothes I had

on, and was obliged to commence anew. I accordingly obtained the command

of the new sloop Sarah Henry, of seventy tons burden, and continued to

sail her for several years, on shares. While in her I made a voyage to

Savannah; and while under sail from that city for Charleston, I was

taken with the yellow fever. I lay for a week quite unconscious of

anything that was going on about me and came as near dying as a man

could do and escape. The religious instructions of my mother had from

time to time recurred to my mind, and had occasioned me some anxiety. I

was now greatly alarmed at the idea of dying in my sins, from which I

seemed to have escaped so narrowly. My mind was possessed with this

fear; and, to relieve myself from it, I determined, if it were a

possible thing, to get religion at any rate. The idea of religion in

which I had been educated was that of a sudden, miraculous change, in

which a man felt himself relieved from the burden of his sins, united to

God, and made a new creature. For this experience I diligently sought,

and tried every way to get it. I set up family prayers in my house, went

to meetings, and conversed with experienced members of the church; but,

for nine months or more, all to no purpose. At length I got into an

awful state, beginning to think that I had been so desperate a sinner

that there was no forgiveness for me. While I was in this miserable

condition, I heard of a camp-meeting about to be held on Cape May, and I

immediately resolved to attend it, and to leave no stone unturned to

accomplish the object which I had so much at heart. I went accordingly,

and yielded myself entirely up to the dictation of those who had the

control of the meeting. I did in everything as I was told; went into the

altar, prayed, and let them pray over me. This went on for several days

without any result. One evening, as I approached the altar, and was

looking into it, I met a captain of my acquaintance, and asked him what

he thought of these proceedings; and, as he seemed to approve them, I

invited him to go into the altar with me. We both went in accordingly,

and knelt down. Pretty soon my friend got up and walked away, saying he

had got religion. I did not find it so easily. I remained at the altar,

praying, till after the meeting broke up, and even till one o'clock,--a

few acquaintances and others remaining with me, and praying round me,

and over me, and for me;--till, at last, thinking that I had done

everything I could, I told them pray no more, as evidently there was no

forgiveness for me. So I withdrew to a distance, and sat down upon an

old tree, lamenting my hard case very seriously. I was sure I had

committed the unpardonable sin. A friend, who sat down beside me, and of

whom I inquired what he supposed the unpardonable sin was, endeavored

comfort me by suggesting that, whatever it might be, it would take more

sense and learning than ever I had to commit it. But I would not enter

into his merriment. All the next day, which was Sunday, I passed in a

most miserable state. I went into the woods alone. I did not think

myself worthy or fit to associate with those who had religion, while I

was anxious to avoid the company of those who made light of it.

Sometimes I would sit down, sometimes I would stand up, sometimes I

would walk about. Frequently I prayed, but found no comfort in it.

About sun-set I met a friend, who said to me, "Well, our camp-meeting is

about ended." What a misery those few words struck to my heart! "About

ended!" I said to myself; "about ended, and I not converted!" A little

later, as I was passing along the camp-ground, I saw a woman before me

kneeling and praying. An acquaintance of mine, who was approaching her

in an opposite direction, called out to me, "Daniel, help me pray for

this woman!" I had made up my mind to make one more effort, and I knelt

down and commenced praying; but quite as much for myself as for her.

Others gathered about us and joined in, and the interest and excitement

became so great, that, after a vain effort to call us off, the regular

services of the evening were dispensed with, and the ground was left to

us. Things went on in this way till about nine o'clock, when, as

suddenly as if I had been struck a heavy blow, I felt a remarkable

change come over me. All my fears and terrors seemed to be

instantaneously removed, and my whole soul to be filled with joy and

peace. This was the sort of change which I had been taught to look for

as the consequence of getting that religion for which I had been

struggling so hard. I instantly rose up, and told those about me that I

was a converted man; and from that moment I was able to sing and shout

and pray with the best of them. In the midst of my exultation who should

come up but my old master in the shoe-making trade, of whom I have

already given some account. He had heard that I was on the camp-ground

in pursuit of religion, and had come to find me out. "Daniel," he said,

addressing me by my Christian name, "what are you doing here? Don't make

a fool of yourself." To which I answered, that I had got to be just such

a fool as I had long wanted to be; and I took him by the arm, and

endeavored to prevail upon him to kneel down and allow us to pray over

him, assuring him that I knew his convictions to be much better than his

conduct; that he must get religion, and now was the time. But he drew

back, and escaped from me, with promises to do better, which, however,

he did not keep.

As for myself, considering, and, as I thought, feeling that I was a

converted man, I now enjoyed for some time an extraordinary

satisfaction, a sort of offset to the months of agony and misery which I

had previously endured. But, though regarding myself as now truly

converted, I delayed some time before uniting myself with any particular

church. I did not know which to join. This division into so many

hostile sects seemed to me unaccountable. I thought that all good

Christians should love each other, and be as one family. Yet it seemed

necessary to unite myself with some body of Christians; and, as I had

been educated a Methodist, I concluded to join them.

I have given the account of my religious experience exactly as it seemed

to me at the time, and as I now remember it. It corresponded with the

common course of religious experiences in the Methodist church, except

that with me the struggle was harder than commonly happens. I did not

doubt at the time that it was truly a supernatural change, as much the

work of the Spirit as the sudden conversions recorded in the Acts of the

Apostles. Others can form their own opinion about it. I will only add

that subsequent experience has led me to the belief that the reality of

a man's religion is more to be judged of by what he does than by how he

feels or what he says.

The change which had taken place in me, however it is to be regarded,

was not without a decided influence on my whole future life. I no longer

considered myself as living for myself alone. I regarded myself as bound

to do unto others as I would that they should do unto me; and it was in

attempting to act up to this principle that I became involved in the

difficulties to be hereafter related.

Meanwhile I resumed my voyages in the Sarah Henry, in which I continued

to sail, on shares, for several years, with tolerable success.

Afterwards I followed the same business in the schooner Protection, in

which I suffered another shipwreck. We sailed from Philadelphia to

Washington, in the District of Columbia, laden with coal, proceeding

down the Delaware, and by the open sea; but, when off the entrance of

the Chesapeake, we encountered a heavy gale, which split the sails,

swept the decks, and drove us off our course as far south as Ocracoke

Inlet, on the coast of North Carolina. I took a pilot, intending to go

in to repair damages; but, owing to the strength of the current, which

defeated his calculations, the pilot ran us on the bar. As soon as the

schooner's bow touched the ground, she swung round broadside to the sea,

which immediately began to break over her in a fearful manner. She

filled immediately,--everything on deck was swept away; and, as our only

chance of safety, we took to the main-rigging. This was about seven

o'clock in the evening. Towards morning, by reason of the continual

thumping, the mainmast began to work through the vessel, and to settle

in the sand, so that it became necessary for us to make our way to the

fore-rigging; which we did, not without danger, as one of the men was

twice washed off.

About a quarter of a mile inside was a small, low island, on which lay

five boats, each manned by five men, who had come down to our

assistance; but the surf was so high that they did not venture to

approach us; so we remained clinging with difficulty to the rigging till

about half-past one, when the schooner went to pieces. The mast to which

we were clinging fell, and we were precipitated into the raging surf,

which swept us onward towards the island already mentioned. The men

there, anticipating what had happened, had prepared for its occurrence;

and the best swimmers, with ropes tied round their waists, the other end

of which was held by those on shore, plunged in to our assistance. One

of our unfortunate company was drowned,--the rest of us came safely to

the shore; but we lost everything except the clothes we stood in. The

fragments saved from the wreck were sold at auction for two hundred

dollars. The people of that neighborhood treated us with great kindness,

and we presently took the packet for Elizabeth city, whence I proceeded

to Norfolk, Baltimore, and so home.

I had made up my mind to go to sea no more; but, after remaining on

shore for three weeks, and not finding anything else to do, as it was

necessary for me to have the means of supporting my increasing family, I

took the command of another vessel, belonging to the same owners, the

sloop Joseph B. While in this vessel, my voyages were to the eastward. I

was engaged in the flour-trade, in conjunction with the owners of the

vessel. We bought flour and grain on a sixty days' credit, which I

carried to the Kennebec, Portsmouth, Boston, New Bedford, and other

eastern ports, calculating upon the returns of the voyage to take up our

notes. I was so successful in this business as finally to become the

owner of the Joseph B., which vessel I exchanged away at Portsmouth for

the Sophronia, a top-sail schooner of one hundred and sixty tons, worth

about fourteen hundred dollars. In this vessel I made two trips to

Boston,--one with coal, and the other with timber. Having unloaded my

timber, I took in a hundred tons of plaster, purchased on my own

account, intending to dispose of it in the Susquehanna. But on the

passage I encountered a heavy storm, which blew the masts out of the

vessel, and drove her ashore on the south side of Long Island. We saved

our lives; but I lost everything except one hundred and sixty dollars,

for which I sold what was left of the vessel and cargo.

Having returned to my family, with but little disposition to try my

fortune again in the coasting-trade, one day, being in the horse-market,

I purchased a horse and wagon; and, taking in my wife and some of the

younger children, I went to pay a visit to the neighborhood in which I

was born. Here I traded for half of a bay-craft, of about sixty tons

burden, in which I engaged in the oyster-trade, and other small

bay-traffic. Having met at Baltimore the owner of the other half, I

bought him out also. The whole craft stood me in about seven hundred

dollars. I then purchased three hundred bushels of potatoes, with which

I sailed for Fredericksburg, in Virginia; but this proved a losing trip,

the potatoes not selling for what they cost me. At Fredericksburg I took

in flour on freight for Norfolk; but my ill-luck still pursued me. In

unloading the vessel, the cargo forward being first taken out, she

settled by the stern and sprang a leak, damaging fifteen barrels of

flour, which were thrown upon my hands. I then sailed for the eastern

shore of Virginia, and at a place called Cherrystone traded off my

damaged flour for a cargo of pears, with which I sailed for New York. I

proceeded safely as far as Barnegat, when I encountered a north-east

storm, which drove me back into the Delaware, obliging me to seek refuge

in the same Maurice river from which I had commenced my sea-faring life

in the wood business. But by this time the pears were spoiled, and I was

obliged to throw them overboard. At Cherrystone I had met the owner of a

pilot-boat, who had seemed disposed to trade with me for my vessel; and

I now returned to that place, and completed the trade; after which I

loaded the pilot-boat with oysters and terrapins, and sailed for

Philadelphia. This boat was an excellent sailer, but too sharp, and not

of burden enough for my business; and I soon exchanged her for half a

little sloop, in which I carried a load of water-melons to Baltimore.

By this time I was pretty well sick of the water; and, having hired out

the sloop, I set up a shop, at Philadelphia, for the purchase and sale

of junk, old iron, &c. &c. But, after continuing in this business for

about two years,--my health being bad, and the doctor having advised me

to try the water again,--I bought half of another sloop, and engaged in

trading up and down Chesapeake Bay. Returning home, towards the close of

the season, with the proceeds of the summer's business, I encountered,

in the upper part of Chesapeake Bay, a terrible snow-storm which proved

fatal to many vessels then in the bay. In attempting to make a harbor,

the vessel struck the ground, and knocked off her rudder; and, in order

to get her off, we were obliged to throw over the deck-load. We drifted

about all day, it still blowing and snowing, and at night let go both

anchors. So we lay for a night and a day; but, having neither boat,

rudder nor provisions, I was finally obliged to slip the anchors and run

ashore. I sold my half of her, as she lay, for ninety dollars, which was

all that remained to me of my investment and my summer's work.

Not having the means to purchase a boat, my health also continuing quite

infirm, the next summer I hired one, and continued the same trade up and

down the bay which I had followed the previous summer.

My trading up and down the bay, in the way which I have described, of

course brought me a good deal into contact with the slave population. No

sooner, indeed, does a vessel, known to be from the north, anchor in any

of these waters--and the slaves are pretty adroit in ascertaining from

what state a vessel comes--than she is boarded, if she remains any

length of time, and especially over night, by more or less of them, in

hopes of obtaining a passage in her to a land of freedom. During my

earlier voyagings, several years before, in Chesapeake Bay, I had turned

a deaf ear to all these requests. At that time, according to an idea

still common enough, I had regarded the negroes as only fit to be

slaves, and had not been inclined to pay much attention to the pitiful

tales which they told me of ill-treatment by their masters and

mistresses. But my views upon this subject had undergone a gradual

change. I knew it was asserted in the Declaration of Independence that

all men are born free and equal, and I had read in the Bible that God

had made of one flesh all the nations of the earth. I had found out, by

intercourse with the negroes, that they had the same desires, wishes and

hopes, as myself. I knew very well that I should not like to be a slave

even to the best of masters, and still less to such sort of masters as

the greater part of the slaves seemed to have. The idea of having first

one child and then another taken from me, as fast as they grew large

enough, and handed over to the slave-traders, to be carried I knew not

where, and sold, if they were girls, I knew not for what purposes, would

have been horrible enough; and, from instances which came to my notice,

I perceived that it was not less horrible and distressing to the parties

concerned in the case of black people than of white ones. I had never

read any abolition books, nor heard any abolition lectures. I had

frequented only Methodist meetings, and nothing was heard there about

slavery. But, for the life of me, I could not perceive why the golden

rule of doing to others as you would wish them to do to you did not

apply to this case. Had I been a slave myself,--and it is not a great

while since the Algerines used to make slaves of our sailors, white as

well as black,--I should have thought it very right and proper in

anybody who would have ventured to assist me in escaping out of bondage;

and the more dangerous it might have been to render such assistance,

the more meritorious I should have thought the act to be. Why had not

these black people, so anxious to escape from their masters, as good a

light to their liberty as I had to mine?

I know it is sometimes said, by those who defend slavery or apologize

for it, that the slaves at the south are very happy and contented, if

left to themselves, and that this idea of running away is only put into

their heads by mischievous white people from the north. This will do

very well for those who know nothing of the matter personally, and who

are anxious to listen to any excuse. But there is not a waterman who

ever sailed in Chesapeake Bay who will not tell you that, so far from

the slaves needing any prompting to run away, the difficulty is, when

they ask you to assist them, to make them take no for an answer. I have

known instances where men have lain in the woods for a year or two,

waiting for an opportunity to escape on board some vessel. On one of my

voyages up the Potomac, an application was made to me on behalf of such

a runaway; and I was so much moved by his story, that, had it been

practicable for me at that time, I should certainly have helped him off.

One or two attempts I did make to assist the flight of some of those who

sought my assistance; but none with success, till the summer of 1847,

which is the period to which I have brought down my narrative.

I was employed during that summer, as I have mentioned already in

trading up and down the Chesapeake, in a hired boat, a small black boy

being my only assistant. Among other trips, I went to Washington with a

cargo of oysters. While I was lying there, at the same wharf, as it

happened, from which the Pearl afterwards took her departure, a colored

man came on board, and, observing that I seemed to be from the north, he

said he supposed we were pretty much all abolitionists there. I don't

know where he got this piece of information, but I think it likely from

some southern member of Congress. As I did not check him, but rather

encouraged him to go on, he finally told me that he wanted to get

passage to the north for a woman and five children. The husband of the

woman, and father of the children, was a free colored man; and the

woman, under an agreement with her master, had already more than paid

for her liberty; but, when she had asked him for a settlement, he had

only answered by threatening to sell her. He begged me to see the woman,

which I did; and finally I made an arrangement to take them away. Their

bedding, and other things, were sent down on board the vessel in open

day, and at night the woman came on board with her five children and a

niece. We were ten days in reaching Frenchtown, where the husband was in

waiting for them. He took them under his charge, and I saw them no more;

but, since my release from imprisonment in Washington, I have heard that

the whole family are comfortably established in a free country, and

doing well.

Having accomplished this exploit,--and was it not something of an

exploit to bestow the invaluable gift of liberty upon seven of one's

fellow-creatures--the season being now far advanced, I gave up the boat

to the owner, and returned to my family at Philadelphia. In the course

of the following month of February, I received a note from a person whom

I had never known or heard of before, desiring me to call at a certain

place named in it. I did so, when it appeared that I had been heard of

through the colored family which I had brought off from Washington. A

letter from that city was read to me, relating the case of a family or

two who expected daily and hourly to be sold, and desiring assistance to

get them away. It was proposed to me to undertake this enterprise; but I

declined it at this time, as I had no vessel, and because the season was

too early for navigation through the canal. I saw the same person again

about a fortnight later, and finally arranged to go on to Washington, to

see what could be done. There I agreed to return again so soon as I

could find a vessel fit for the enterprise. I spoke with several persons

of my acquaintance, who had vessels under their control; but they

declined, on account of the danger. They did not appear to have any

other objection, and seemed to wish me success. Passing along the

street, I met Captain Sayres, and knowing that he was sailing a small

bay-craft, called the Pearl, and learning from him that business was

dull with him, I proposed the enterprise to him, offering him one

hundred dollars for the charter of his vessel to Washington and back to

Frenchtown where, according to the arrangement with the friends of the

passengers, they were to be met and carried to Philadelphia. This was

considerably more than the vessel could earn in any ordinary trip of the

like duration, and Sayres closed with the offer. He fully understood the

nature of the enterprise. By our bargain, I was to have, as supercargo,

the control of the vessel so far as related to her freight, and was to

bring away from Washington such passengers as I chose to receive on

board; but the control of the vessel in other respects remained with

him. Captain Sayres engaged in this enterprise merely as a matter of

business. I, too, was to be paid for my time and trouble,--an offer

which the low state of my pecuniary affairs, and the necessity of

supporting my family, did not allow me to decline. But this was not, by

any means, my sole or principal motive. I undertook it out of sympathy

for the enslaved, and from my desire to do something to further the

cause of universal liberty. Such being the different ground upon which

Sayres and myself stood, I did not think it necessary or expedient to

communicate to him the names of the persons with whom the expedition had

originated; and, at my suggestion, those persons abstained from any

direct communication with him, either at Philadelphia or Washington.

Sayres had, as cook and sailor, on board the Pearl, a young man named

Chester English. He was married, and had a child or two, but was himself

as inexperienced as a child, having never been more than thirty miles

from the place where he was born. I remonstrated with Sayres against

taking this young man with us. But English, pleased with the idea of

seeing Washington, desired to go; and Sayres, who had engaged him for

the season, did not like to part with him. He went with us, but was kept

in total ignorance of the real object of the voyage. He had the idea

that we were going to Washington for a load of ship-timber.

We proceeded down the Delaware, and by the canal into the Chesapeake,

making for the mouth of the Potomac. As we ascended that river we

stopped at a place called Machudock, where I purchased, by way of cargo

and cover to the voyage, twenty cords of wood; and with that freight on

board we proceeded to Washington, where we arrived on the evening of

Thursday, the 13th of April, 1848.

As it happened, we found that city in a great state of excitement on the

subject of emancipation, liberty and the rights of man. A grand

torch-light procession was on foot, in honor of the new French

revolution, the expulsion of Louis-Philippe, and the establishment of a

republic in France. Bonfires were blazing in the public squares, and a

great out-door meeting was being held in front of the _Union_ newspaper

office, at which very enthusiastic and exciting speeches were delivered,

principally by southern democratic members of Congress, which body was

at that time in session. A full account of these proceedings, with

reports of the speeches, was given in the _Union_ of the next day.

According to this report, Mr. Foote, the senator from Mississippi,

extolled the French revolution as holding out "to the whole family of

man a bright promise of the universal establishment of civil and

religious liberty." He declared, in the same speech, "that the age of

tyrants and of slavery was rapidly drawing to a close, and that the

happy period to be signalized by the _universal emancipation_ of man

from the fetters of civic oppression, and the recognition in all

countries of the great principles of popular sovereignty, equality and

brotherhood, was at this moment visibly commencing." Mr. Stanton, of

Tennessee, and others, spoke in a strain equally fervid and

philanthropic. I am obliged to refer to the _Union_ newspaper for an

account of these speeches, as I did not hear them myself. I came to

Washington, not to preach, nor to hear preached, emancipation, equality

and brotherhood, but to put them into practice. Sayres and English went

up to see the procession and hear the speeches. I had other things to

attend to.

The news of my arrival soon spread among those who had been expecting

it, though I neither saw nor had any direct communication with any of

those who were to be my passengers. I had some difficulty in disposing

of my wood, which was not a very first-rate article, but finally sold

it, taking in payment the purchaser's note on sixty days, which I

changed off for half cash and half provisions. As the trader to whom I

passed the note had no hard bread, Sayres and myself went in the steamer

to Alexandria to purchase a barrel,--a circumstance of which it was

afterwards attempted to take advantage against us.

It was arranged that the passengers should come on board after dark on

Saturday evening, and that we should sail about midnight. I had

understood that the expedition, had principally originated in the desire

to help off a certain family, consisting of a woman, nine children and

two grand-children, who were believed to be legally entitled to their

liberty. Their case had been in litigation for some time; but, although

they had a very good case,--the lawyer whom they employed (Mr. Bradley,

one of the most distinguished members of the bar of the district)

testified, in the course of one of my trials, that he believed them to

be legally free,--yet, as their money was nearly exhausted, and as there

seemed to be no end to the law's delay and the pertinacity of the woman

who claimed them, it was deemed best by their friends that they should

get away if they could, lest she might seize them unawares, and sell

them to some trader. In speaking of this case, the person with whom I

communicated at Washington informed me that there were also quite a

number of others who wished to avail themselves of this opportunity of

escaping, and that the number of passengers was likely to be larger than

had at first been calculated upon. To which I replied, that I did not

stand about the number; that all who were on board before eleven o'clock

I should take,--the others would have to remain behind.

Saturday evening, at supper, I let English a little into the secret of

what I intended. I told him that the sort of ship-timber we were going

to take would prove very easy to load and unload; that a number of

colored people wished to take passage with us down the bay, and that, as

Sayres and myself would be away the greater part of the evening, all he

had to do was, as fast as they came on board, to lift up the hatch and

let them pass into the hold, shutting the hatch down upon them. The

vessel, which we had moved down the river since unloading the wood, lay

at a rather lonely place, called White-house Wharf, from a

whitish-colored building which stood upon it. The high bank of the

river, under which a road passed, afforded a cover to the wharf, and

there were only a few scattered buildings in the vicinity. Towards the

town there stretched a wide extent of open fields. Anxious, as might

naturally be expected, as to the result, I kept in the vicinity to watch

the progress of events. There was another small vessel that lay across

the head of the same wharf, but her crew were all black; and, going on

board her just at dusk, I informed the skipper of my business,

intimating to him, at the same time, that it would be a dangerous thing

for him to betray me. He assured me that I need have no fears of

him--that the other men would soon leave the vessel, not to return again

till Monday, and that, for himself, he should go below and to sleep, so

as neither to hear nor to see anything.

Shortly after dark the expected passengers began to arrive, coming

stealthily across the fields, and gliding silently on board the vessel.

I observed a man near a neighboring brick-kiln, who seemed to be

watching them. I went towards him, and found him to be black. He told

me that he understood what was going on, but that I need have no

apprehension of him. Two white men, who walked along the road past the

vessel, and who presently returned back the same way, occasioned me some

alarm; but they seemed to have no suspicions of what was on foot, as I

saw no more of them. I went on board the vessel several times in the

course of the evening, and learned from English that the hold was fast

filling up. I had promised him, in consideration of the unusual nature

of the business we were engaged in, ten dollars as a gratuity, in

addition to his wages.

Something past ten o'clock, I went on board, and directed English to

cast off the fastenings and to get ready to make sail. Pretty soon

Sayres came on board. It was a dead calm, and we were obliged to get the

boat out to get the vessel's head round. After dropping down a half a

mile or so, we encountered the tide making up the river; and, as there

was still no wind, we were obliged to anchor. Here we lay in a dead calm

till about daylight. The wind then began to breeze up lightly from the

northward, when we got up the anchor and made sail. As the sun rose, we

passed Alexandria. I then went into the hold for the first time, and

there found my passengers pretty thickly stowed. I distributed bread

among them, and knocked down the bulkhead between the hold and the

cabin, in order that they might get into the cabin to cook. They

consisted of men and women, in pretty equal proportions, with a number

of boys and girls, and two small children. The wind kept increasing and

hauling to the westward. Off Fort Washington we had to make two

stretches, but the rest of the way we run before the wind.

Shortly after dinner, we passed the steamer from Baltimore for

Washington, bound up. I thought the passengers on board took particular

notice of us; but the number of vessels met with in a passage up the

Potomac at that season is so few, as to make one, at least for the idle

passengers of a steamboat, an object of some curiosity. Just before

sunset, we passed a schooner loaded with plaster, bound up. As we

approached the mouth of the Potomac, the wind hauled to the north, and

blew with such stiffness as would make it impossible for us to go up the

bay, according to our original plan. Under these circumstances,

apprehending a pursuit from Washington, I urged Sayres to go to sea,

with the intention of reaching the Delaware by the outside passage. But

he objected that the vessel was not fit to go outside (which was true

enough), and that the bargain was to go to Frenchtown. Having reached

Point Lookout, at the mouth of the river, and not being able to persuade

Sayres to go to sea, and the wind being dead in our teeth, and too

strong to allow any attempt to ascend the bay, we came to anchor in

Cornfield harbor, just under Point Lookout, a shelter usually sought by

bay-craft encountering contrary winds when in that neighborhood.

We were all sleepy with being up all the night before, and, soon after

dropping anchor, we all turned in. I knew nothing more till, waking

suddenly, I heard the noise of a steamer blowing off steam alongside of

us. I knew at once that we were taken. The black men came to the cabin,

and asked if they should fight. I told them no; we had no arms, nor was

there the least possibility of a successful resistance. The loud shouts

and trampling of many feet overhead proved that our assailants were

numerous. One of them lifted the hatch a little, and cried out,

"Niggers, by G--d!" an exclamation to which the others responded with

three cheers, and by banging the buts of their muskets against the deck.

A lantern was called for, to read the name of the vessel; and it being

ascertained to be the Pearl, a number of men came to the cabin-door, and

called for Captain Drayton. I was in no great hurry to stir; but at

length rose from my berth, saying that I considered myself their

prisoner, and that I expected to be treated as such. While I was

dressing, rather too slowly for the impatience of those outside, a

sentinel, who had been stationed at the cabin-door, followed every

motion of mine with his gun, which he kept pointed at me, in great

apprehension, apparently, lest I should suddenly seize some dangerous

weapon and make at him. As I came out of the cabin-door, two of them

seized me, took me on board the steamer and tied me; and they did the

same with Sayres and English, who were brought on board, one after the

other. The black people were left on board the Pearl, which the steamer

took in tow, and then proceeded up the river.

To explain this sudden change in our situation, it is necessary to go

back to Washington. Great was the consternation in several families of

that city, on Sunday morning, to find no breakfast, and, what was worse,

their servants missing. Nor was this disaster confined to Washington

only. Georgetown came in for a considerable share of it, and even

Alexandria, on the opposite side of the river, had not entirely escaped.

The persons who had taken passage on board the Pearl had been held in

bondage by no less than forty-one different persons. Great was the

wonder at the sudden and simultaneous disappearance of so many "prime

hands," roughly estimated, though probably with considerable

exaggeration, as worth in the market not less than a hundred thousand

dollars,--and all at "one fell swoop" too, as the District Attorney

afterwards, in arguing the case against me, pathetically expressed it!

There were a great many guesses and conjectures as to where these people

had gone, and how they had gone; but it is very doubtful whether the

losers would have got upon the right track, had it not been for the

treachery of a colored hackman, who had been employed to carry down to

the vessel two passengers who had been in hiding for some weeks

previous, and who could not safely walk down, lest they might be met and

recognized. Emulating the example of that large, and, in their own

opinion at least, highly moral, religious and respectable class of white

people, known as "dough-faces," this hackman thought it a fine

opportunity to feather his nest by playing cat's-paw to the

slave-holders. Seeing how much the information was in demand, and

anticipating, no doubt, a large reward, he turned informer, and

described the Pearl as the conveyance which the fugitives had taken;

and, it being ascertained that the Pearl had actually sailed between

Saturday night and Sunday morning, preparations were soon made to pursue

her. A Mr. Dodge, of Georgetown, a wealthy old gentleman, originally

from New England, missed three or four slaves from his family, and a

small steamboat, of which he was the proprietor, was readily obtained.

Thirty-five men, including a son or two of old Dodge, and several of

those whose slaves were missing, volunteered to man her; and they set

out about Sunday noon, armed to the teeth with guns, pistols,

bowie-knives, &c., and well provided with brandy and other liquors. They

heard of us on the passage down, from the Baltimore steamer and the

vessel loaded with plaster. They reached the mouth of the river, and,

not having found the Pearl, were about to return, as the steamer could

not proceed into the bay without forfeiting her insurance. As a last

chance, they looked into Cornfield harbor, where they found us, as I

have related. This was about two o'clock in the morning. The Pearl had

come to anchor about nine o'clock the previous evening. It is a hundred

and forty miles from Washington to Cornfield harbor.

The steamer, with the Pearl in tow, crossed over from Point Lookout to

Piney Point, on the south shore of the Potomac, and here the Pearl was

left at anchor, a part of the steamer's company remaining to guard her,

while the steamer, having myself and the other white prisoners on board,

proceeded up Coan river for a supply of wood, having obtained which, she

again, about noon of Monday, took the Pearl in tow and started for

Washington.

Personal Memoir of Daniel Drayton, for Four Years and Four Months a Prisoner (for Charity's Sake) in Washington Jail Including a Narrative of the Voyage and Capture of the Schooner Pearl · 第 1 / 7 段