we had been thus seized and bound, without the slightest shadow of
lawful authority, was sufficient to inspire a good deal of alarm. We had
been lying quietly at anchor in a harbor of Maryland; and, although the
owners of the slaves might have had a legal right to pursue and take
them back, what warrant or authority had they for seizing us and our
vessel? They could have brought none from the District of Columbia,
whose officers had no jurisdiction or authority in Cornfield harbor; nor
did they pretend to have any from the State of Maryland. Some of them
showed a good deal of excitement, and evinced a disposition to proceed
to lynch us at once. A man named Houver, who claimed as his property two
of the boys passengers on board the Pearl, put me some questions in a
very insolent tone; to which I replied, that I considered myself a
prisoner, and did not wish to answer any questions; whereupon one of the
bystanders, flourishing a dirk in my face, exclaimed, "If I was in his
place, I'd put this through you!" At Piney Point, one of the company
proposed to hang me up to the yard-arm, and make me confess; but the
more influential of those on board were not ready for any such
violence, though all were exceedingly anxious to get out of me the
history of the expedition, and who my employers were. That I had
employers, and persons of note too, was taken for granted on all hands;
nor did I think it worth my while to contradict it, though I declined
steadily to give any information on that point. Sayres and English very
readily told all that they knew. English, especially, was in a great
state of alarm, and cried most bitterly. I pitied him much, besides
feeling some compunctions at getting him thus into difficulty; and, upon
the representations which I made, that he came to Washington in perfect
ignorance of the object of the expedition, he was finally untied. As
Sayres was obliged to admit that he came to Washington to take away
colored passengers, he was not regarded with so much favor. But it was
evidently me whom they looked upon as the chief culprit, alone
possessing a knowledge of the history and origin of the expedition,
which they were so anxious to unravel. They accordingly went to work
very artfully to worm this secret out of me. I was placed in charge of
one Orme, a police-officer of Georgetown, whose manner towards me was
such as to inspire me with a certain confidence in him; who, as it
afterwards appeared from his testimony on the trial, carefully took
minutes--but, as it proved, very confused and incorrect ones--of all
that I said, hoping thus to secure something that might turn out to my
disadvantage. Another person, with whom I had a good deal of
conversation, and who was afterwards produced as a witness against me,
was William H. Craig, in my opinion a much more conscientious person
than Orme, who seemed to think that it was part of his duty, as a
police-officer, to testify to something, at all hazards, to help on a
conviction. But this is a subject to which I shall have occasion to
return presently.
In one particular, at least, the testimony of both these witnesses was
correct enough. They both testified to my expressing pretty serious
apprehensions of what the result to myself was likely to be. What the
particular provisions were, in the District of Columbia, as to helping
slaves to escape, I did not know; but I had heard that, in some of the
slave-states, they were very severe; in fact, I was assured by Craig
that I had committed the highest crime, next to murder, known in their
laws. Under these circumstances, I made up my mind that the least
penalty I should be apt to escape with was confinement in the
penitentiary for life; and it is quite probable that I endeavored to
console myself, as these witnesses testified, with the idea that, after
all, it might, in a religious point of view, be all for the best, as I
should thus be removed from temptation, and have ample time for
reflection and repentance. But my apprehensions were by no means limited
to what I might suffer under the forms of law. From the temper exhibited
by some of my captors, and from the vindictive fury with which the idea
of enabling the enslaved to regain their liberty was, I knew, generally
regarded at the south, I apprehended more sudden and summary
proceedings; and what happened afterwards at Washington proved that
these apprehensions were not wholly unfounded. The idea of being torn in
pieces by a furious mob was exceedingly disagreeable. Many men, who
might not fear death, might yet not choose to meet it in that shape. I
called to mind the apology of the Methodist minister, who, just after a
declaration of his that he was not afraid to die, ran away from a
furious bull that attacked him,--"that, though not fearing death, he did
not like to be torn in pieces by a mad bull." I related this anecdote to
Craig, and, as he testified on the trial, expressed my preference to be
taken on the deck of the steamer and shot at once, rather than to be
given up to a Washington mob to be baited and murdered. I talked pretty
freely with Orme and Craig about myself, the circumstances under which I
had undertaken this enterprise, my motives to it, my family, my past
misfortunes, and the fate that probably awaited me; but they failed to
extract from me, what they seemed chiefly to desire, any information
which would implicate others. Orme told me, as he afterwards testified,
that what the people in the District wanted was the principals; and
that, if I would give information that would lead to them, the owners of
the slaves would let me go, or sign a petition for my pardon. Craig also
made various inquiries tending to the same point. Though I was firmly
resolved not to yield in this particular, yet I was desirous to do all I
could to soften the feeling against me; and it was doubtless this
desire which led me to make the statements sworn to by Orme and Craig,
that I had no connection with the persons called abolitionists,--which
was true enough; that I had formerly refused large offers made me by
slaves to carry them away; and that, in the present instance, I was
employed by others, and was to be paid for my services.
On arriving off Fort Washington, the steamer anchored for the night, as
the captors preferred to make their triumphant entry into the city by
daylight. Sayres and myself were watched during the night by a regular
guard of two men, armed with muskets, who were relieved from time to
time. Before getting under weigh again,--which they did about seven
o'clock in the morning of Tuesday, Feb. 18,--Sayres and myself were tied
together arm-and-arm, and the black people also, two-and-two, with the
other arm bound behind their backs. As we passed Alexandria, we were all
ordered on deck, and exhibited to the mob collected on the wharves to
get a sight of us, who signified their satisfaction by three cheers.
When we landed at the steamboat-wharf in Washington, which is a mile and
more from Pennsylvania Avenue, and in a remote part of the city, but few
people had yet assembled. We were marched up in a long procession,
Sayres and myself being placed at the head of it, guarded by a man on
each side; English following next, and then the negroes. As we went
along, the mob began to increase; and, as we passed Gannon's slave-pen,
that slave-trader, armed with a knife, rushed out, and, with horrid
imprecations, made a pass at me, which was very near finding its way
through my body. Instead of being arrested, as he ought to have been,
this slave-dealer was politely informed that I was in the hands of the
law, to which he replied, "D--n the law!--I have three negroes, and I
will give them all for one thrust at this d--d scoundrel!" and he
followed along, waiting his opportunity to repeat the blow. The crowd,
by this time, was greatly increased. We met an immense mob of several
thousand persons coming down Four-and-a-half street, with the avowed
intention of carrying us up before the capitol, and making an exhibition
of us there. The noise and confusion was very great. It seemed as if the
time for the lynching had come. When almost up to Pennsylvania Avenue, a
rush was made upon us,--"Lynch them! lynch them! the d--n villains!" and
other such cries, resounded on all sides. Those who had us in charge
were greatly alarmed; and, seeing no other way to keep us from the hands
of the mob, they procured a hack, and put Sayres and myself into it. The
hack drove to the jail, the mob continuing to follow, repeating their
shouts and threats. Several thousand people surrounded the jail, filling
up the enclosure about it.
Our captors had become satisfied, from the statements made by Sayres and
myself, and from his own statements and conduct, that the participation
of English in the affair was not of a sort that required any punishment;
and when the mob made the rush upon us, the persons having him in charge
had let him go, with the intention that he should escape. After a while
he had found his way back to the steamboat wharf; but the steamer was
gone. Alone in a strange place, and not knowing what to do, he told his
story to somebody whom he met, who put him in a hack and sent him up to
the jail. It was a pity he lacked the enterprise to take care of himself
when set at liberty, as it cost him four months' imprisonment and his
friends some money. I ought to have mentioned before that, on arriving
within the waters of the District, Sayres and myself had been examined
before a justice of the peace, who was one of the captors; and who had
acted as their leader. He had made out a commitment against us, but none
against English; so that the persons who had him in charge were right
enough in letting him go.
Sayres and myself were at first put into the same cell, but, towards
night, we were separated. A person named Goddard, connected with the
police, came to examine us. He went to Sayres first. He then came to me,
when I told him that, as I supposed he had got the whole story out of
Sayres, and as it was not best that two stories should be told, I would
say nothing. Goddard then took from me my money. One of the keepers
threw me in two thin blankets, and I was left to sleep as I could. The
accommodations were not of the most luxurious kind. The cell had a stone
floor, which, with the help of a blanket, was to serve also for a bed.
There was neither chair, table, stool, nor any individual piece of
furniture of any kind, except a night-bucket and a water-can. I was
refused my overcoat and valise, and had nothing but my water-can to make
a pillow of. With such a pillow, and the bare stone floor for my bed,
looked upon by all whom I saw with apparent abhorrence and terror,--as
much so, to all appearance, as if I had been a murderer, or taken in
some other desperate crime,--remembering the execrations which the mob
had belched forth against me, and uncertain whether a person would be
found to express the least sympathy for me (which might not, in the
existing state of the public feeling, be safe), it may be imagined that
my slumbers were not very sound.
Meanwhile the rage of the mob had taken, for the moment, another
direction. I had heard it said, while we were coming up in the
steamboat, that the abolition press must be stopped; and the mob
accordingly, as the night came on, gathered about the office of the
_National Era_, with threats to destroy it. Some little mischief was
done; but the property-holders in the city, well aware how dependent
Washington is upon the liberality of Congress, were unwilling that
anything should occur to place the District in bad odor at the north.
Some of them, also, it is but justice to believe, could not entirely
give in to the slave-holding doctrine and practice of suppressing free
discussion by force; and, by their efforts, seconded by a drenching
storm of rain, that came on between nine and ten o'clock, the mob were
persuaded to disperse for the present. The jail was guarded that night
by a strong body of police, serious apprehensions being entertained,
lest the mob, instigated by the violence of many southern members of
Congress, should break in and lynch us. Great apprehension, also, seemed
to be felt at the jail, lest we might be rescued; and we were subject,
during the night, to frequent examinations, to see that all was safe.
Great was the terror, as well as the rage, which the abolitionists
appeared to inspire. They seemed to be thought capable, if not very
narrowly watched, of taking us off through the roof, or the stone floor,
or out of the iron-barred doors; and, from the half-frightened looks
which the keepers gave me from time to time, I could plainly enough read
their thoughts,--that a fellow who had ventured on such an enterprise as
that of the Pearl was desperate and daring enough to attempt anything.
For a poor prisoner like me, so much in the power of his captors, and
without the slightest means, hopes, or even thoughts of escape, it was
some little satisfaction to observe the awe and terror which he
inspired.
Of the prison fare I shall have more to say, by and by. It is sufficient
to state here that it was about on a par with the sleeping
accommodations, and hardly of a sort to give a man in my situation the
necessary physical vigor. However, I thought little of this at that
moment, as I was too sick and excited to feel much disposition to eat.
The Washington prison is a large three-story stone building, the front
part of the lower story of which is occupied by the guard-room, or
jail-office, and by the kitchen and sleeping apartments for the keepers.
The back part, shut off from the front by strong grated doors, has a
winding stone stair-case, ascending in the middle, on each side of
which, on each of the three stories, are passage-ways, also shut off
from the stair-case, by grated iron doors. The back wall of the jail
forms one side of these passages, which are lighted by grated windows.
On the other side are the cells, also with grated iron doors, and
receiving their light and air entirely from the passages. The passages
themselves have no ventilation except through the doors and windows,
which answer that purpose very imperfectly. The front second story, over
the guard-room, contains the cells for the female prisoners. The front
third story is the debtors' apartment.
The usage of the jail always has been--except in cases of
insubordination or attempted escape, when locking up in the cells by
day, as well as by night, has been resorted to as a punishment--to allow
the prisoners, during the day-time, the use of the passages, for the
benefit of light, air and exercise. Indeed, it is hard to conceive a
more cruel punishment than to keep a man locked up all the time in one
of these half-lighted, unventilated cells. On the morning of the second
day of our confinement, we too were let out into the passage. But we
were soon put back again, and not only into separate cells, but into
separate passages, so as to be entirely cut off from any communication
with each other. It was a long time before we were able to regain the
privilege of the passage. But, for the present, I shall pass over the
internal economy and administration of the prison, and my treatment in
it, intending, further on, to give a general sketch of that subject.
About nine or ten o'clock, Mr. Giddings, the member of Congress from
Ohio, came to see us. There was some disposition, I understood, not to
allow him to enter the jail; but Mr. Giddings is a man not easily
repulsed, and there is nobody of whom the good people at Washington,
especially the office-holders, who make up so large a part of the
population, stand so much in awe as a member of Congress; especially a
member of Mr. Giddings' well-known fearless determination. He was
allowed to come in, bringing another person with him, but was followed
into the jail by a crowd of ruffians, who compelled the turnkey to admit
them into the passage, and who vented their rage in execration and
threats. Mr. Giddings said that he had understood we were here in jail
without counsel or friends, and that he had come to let us know that we
should not want for either; and he introduced the person he had brought
with him as one who was willing to act temporarily as our counsel. Not
long after, Mr. David A. Hall, a lawyer of the District, came to offer
his services to us in the same way. Key, the United States Attorney for
the District, and who, as such, had charge of the proceedings against
us, was there at the same time. He advised Mr. Hall to leave the jail
and go home immediately, as the people outside were furious, and he ran
the risk of his life. To which Mr. Hall replied that things had come to
a pretty pass, if a man's counsel was not to have the privilege of
talking with him. "Poor devils!" said the District Attorney, as he went
out, "I pity them,--they are to be made scape-goats for others!" Yet the
rancor, and virulence, and fierce pertinacity with which this Key
afterwards pursued me, did not look much like pity. No doubt he was a
good deal irritated at his ill success in getting any information out of
me.
The seventy-six passengers found on board the Pearl had been committed
to the jail as runaways, and Mr. Giddings, on going up to the House, by
way of warning, I suppose, to the slave-holders, that they were not to
be allowed to have everything their own way, moved an inquiry into the
circumstances under which seventy-six persons were held prisoners in the
District jail, merely for attempting to vindicate their inalienable
rights. Mr. Hale also, in the Senate, in consequence of the threats held
out to destroy the _Era_ office, and to put a stop to the publication of
that paper, moved a resolution of inquiry into the necessity of
additional laws for the protection of property in the District. The fury
which these movements excited in the minds of the slave-holders found
expression in the editorial columns of the Washington _Union_, in an
article which I have inserted below, as forming a curious contrast to
the exultations of that print, only a week before, and to which I have
had occasion already to refer, over the spread of the principles of
liberty and universal emancipation. The violent attack upon Mr.
Giddings, because he had visited us three poor prisoners in jail, and
offered us the assistance of counsel,--as if the vilest criminals were
not entitled to have counsel to defend them,--is well worthy of notice.
The following is the article referred to.
THE ABOLITION INCENDIARIES.
Those two abolition incendiaries (Giddings and Hale)
threw firebrands yesterday into the two houses of
Congress. The western abolitionist moved a resolution of
inquiry into the transactions now passing in Washington,
which brought on a fierce and fiery debate on the part
of the southern members, in the course of which Mr.
Giddings _was compelled to confess_, on the
cross-questioning of Messrs. Venable and Haskell, _that
he had visited the three piratical kidnappers now
confined in jail, and offered them counsel_. The reply
of Mr. Toombs, of Georgia, was scorching to an intense
degree.
The abolitionist John P. Hale threw a firebrand
resolution into the Senate, calling for additional laws
to compel this city to prevent riots. This also gave
rise to a long and excited debate.
No question was taken, in either house, before they
adjourned. But, in the progress of the discussion in
both houses, some doctrines were uttered which are
calculated to startle the friends of the Union. Giddings
justified the kidnappers, and contended that, though the
act was legally forbidden, it was not morally wrong! Mr.
Toombs brought home the practical consequences of this
doctrine to the member from Ohio in a most impressive
manner.
Hale, of the Senate, whilst he was willing to protect
the abolitionist, expressed himself willing to relax the
laws and weaken the protection which is given to the
slave property in this district! Mr. Davis, of
Massachusetts, held the strange doctrine, that while he
would not disturb the rights of the slave-holders, he
would not cease to discuss those rights! As if Congress
ought to discuss, or to protect a right to discuss, a
domestic institution of the Southern States, with which
they had no right to interfere! Why discuss, when they
cannot act? Why first lay down an abstract principle,
which they intend to violate in practice?
Such fanatics as Giddings and Hale are doing more
mischief than they will be able to atone for. Their
incessant and impertinent intermeddling with the most
delicate question in our social relations is creating
the most indignant feelings in the community. The fiery
discussions they are exciting are calculated to provoke
the very riots which they deprecate. Let these madmen
forbear, if they value the tranquillity of our country,
and the stability of our Union. We conjure them to
forbear their maddened, parricidal hand.
An article like this in the _Union_ was well calculated, and probably
was intended, to encourage and stimulate the rioters, and accordingly
they assembled that same evening in greater force than before
threatening the destruction of the _Era_ office. The publication office
of the _Era_ was not far from the Patent Office; and the dwelling-house
of Dr. Bailey, the editor, was at no great distance. The mob, taking
upon themselves the character of a meeting of citizens, appointed a
committee to wait upon Dr. Bailey, to require him to remove his press
out of the District of Columbia. Of course, as I was locked up in the
jail, trying to rest my aching head and weary limbs, with a stone floor
for a bed and a water-can for my pillow, I can have no personal
knowledge of what transpired on this occasion. But a correspondent of
the New York _Tribune_, who probably was an eye-witness, gives the
following account of the interview between the committee and Dr. Bailey:
Clearing his throat, the leader of the committee
stretched forth his hand, and thus addressed Dr. Bailey:
_Mr. Radcliff_.--Sir, we have been appointed as a
committee to wait upon you, by the meeting of the
citizens of Washington which has assembled this evening
to take into consideration the circumstances connected
with the late outrage upon _our_ property, and to convey
to you the result of the deliberations of that meeting.
You are aware of the excitement which now prevails. It
has assumed a most threatening aspect. This community is
satisfied that the existence of your press among us is
endangering the public peace, and they are convinced
that the public interests demand its removal. We have
therefore waited upon you for the purpose of inquiring
whether you are prepared to remove your press by ten
o'clock to-morrow morning; and we beseech you, as you
value the peace of this District, to accede to our
request. [Loud shouting heard at the Patent Office.]
_Dr. Bailey_.--Gentlemen: I do not believe you are
actuated by any unkind feelings towards me personally;
but you must be aware that you are demanding of me the
surrender of a great constitutional right,--a right
which I have used, but not abused,--in the preservation
of which you are as deeply interested as I am. How can
you ask me to abandon it, and thus become a party to my
own degradation?
_Mr. Radcliff_.--We subscribe to all that you say. But
you see the popular excitement. The consequences of your
refusal are inevitable. Now, if you can avert these
consequences by submitting to what the people request,
although unreasonable, is it not your duty, as a good
citizen, to submit? It is on account of the community we
come here, obeying the popular feeling which you hear
expressed in the distance, and which cannot be calmed,
and, but for the course we have adopted, would at this
moment be manifested in the destruction of your office.
But they have consented to wait till they hear our
report. We trust, then, that, as a good citizen, you
will respond favorably to the wish of the people.
_Another of the Committee_.--As one of the oldest
citizens, I do assure you that it is in all kindness we
make this request. We come here to tell you that we
cannot arrest violence in any other way than by your
allowing us to say that you yield to the request of the
people. In kindness we tell you that if this thing
commences here we know not where it may end. I am for
mild measures myself. The prisoners were in my hands,
but I would not allow my men to inflict any punishment
on them.
_Dr. Bailey_.--Gentlemen, I appreciate your kindness;
but I ask, is there a man among you who, standing as I
now stand, the representative of a free press, would
accede to this demand, and abandon his rights as an
American citizen?
_One of the Committee_.--We know it is a great sacrifice
that we ask of you; but we ask it to appease popular
excitement.
_Dr. Bailey_.--Let me say to you that I am a peace-man.
I have taken no measures to defend my office, my house
or myself. I appeal to the good sense and intelligence
of the community, and stand upon my rights as an
American citizen, looking to the law alone for
protection.
_Mr. Radcliff_.--We have now discharged our duty. It has
come to this,--the people say it must be done, unless
you agree to go to-morrow. We now ask a categorical
answer,--Will you remove your press?
_Dr. Bailey_.--I answer: I make no resistance, and I
cannot assent to your demand. The press is there--it is
undefended--you can do as you think proper.
_One of the Committee_.--All rests with you. We tell you
what will follow your refusal, and, if you persist, all
the responsibility must fall upon your shoulders. It is
in your power to arrest the arm that is raised to give
the blow. If you refuse to do so by a single expression,
though it might cost you much, on you be all the
consequences.