But, although I gained considerably by the new-order of things, I soon

found that it had also some annoying consequences. Under the old

marshal, either to make the imprisonment more disagreeable to me, or

from fear lest I should corrupt the other prisoners, I had been kept in

a sort of solitary confinement, no other prisoners being placed in the

same passage. This system was now altered; and, although my privacy was

always so far respected that I was allowed a cell by myself, I often

found myself with fellow-prisoners in the same passage from whose

society it was impossible for me to derive either edification or

pleasure. I suffered a good deal from this cause; but at length

succeeded in obtaining a remedy, or, at least, a partial one. I was

allowed, during the day-time, the range of the debtors' apartments, a

suite of spacious, airy and comfortable rooms, in which there were

seldom more than one or two tenants. I pleaded hard to be removed to

these apartments altogether,--to be allowed to sleep there, as well as

to pass the days there. As it was merely for the non-payment of a sum of

money that I was held, I thought I had a right to be treated as a

debtor. But those apartments were so insecure, that the keepers did not

care to trust me there during the night.

By this change of quarters my condition was a good deal improved. I not

only had ample conveniences for reading, but I improved the opportunity

to learn to write, having only been able to sign my name when T was

committed to the prison.

But a jail, after all, is a jail; and I longed and sighed to obtain my

liberty, and to enjoy again the society of my wife and children. Had it

been wished to impress my mind in the strongest manner with the horrors

of slavery, no better method could have been devised than this

imprisonment in the Washington jail. I felt personally what it was to be

restrained of my liberty; and, as many of the prisoners were runaway

slaves, or slaves committed at the request of their masters, I saw a

good deal of what slaves are exposed to. Of this I shall here give but a

single instance. Wallace, the marshal, as I have already mentioned, had

two female slaves, the last remnants of the large slave-property which

he had inherited from his father. One of these was a young and very

comely mulatto girl, whom Wallace had made his housekeeper, and whom he

sought to make also his concubine. But, as the girl already had a child

by a young white man, to whom she was attached, she steadily repelled

all his advances. Not succeeding by persuasion, this scion of the

aristocracy of the Old Dominion--this Virginian gentleman, and marshal

of the United States for the District of Columbia--shut the girl up in

the jail of the District, in hopes of thus breaking her to his will;

and, as she proved obstinate, he finally sold her. He then turned his

eyes on the other woman,--his property,--Jemima, our cook, already the

mother of three children. But she set him at open defiance. As she

wished to be sold, he had lost the greatest means of controlling her;

and as she openly threatened, before all the keepers, to tear every rag

of clothing off his body if he dared lay his hand upon her, he did not

venture, to brave her fury.

In most of the states, if not in all of them, certainly in all the free

states, there is no such thing as keeping a man in prison for life

merely for the non-payment of a fine which he has no means to pay. The

same spirit of humanity which has abolished the imprisonment of poor

debtors at the caprice of their creditors has provided means for

discharging, after a short imprisonment, persons held in prison for

fines which they have no means of paying. Indeed, what can be more

unequal or unjust than to hold a poor man a prisoner for life for an

offence which a rich man is allowed to expiate by a small part of his

superfluous wealth? But this is one, among many other barbarisms, which

the existence of slavery in the District of Columbia, by preventing any

systematic revision of the laws, has entailed upon the capital of our

model democracy. There was, as I have stated, no means by which Sayres

and myself could be discharged from prison except by paying our fines

(which was totally out of the question), or by obtaining a presidential

pardon, which, for a long time, seemed equally hopeless. There was,

indeed, a peculiarity about our case, such as might afford a plausible

excuse for not extending to us any relief. Under the law of 1796, the

sums imposed upon us as fines were to go one half to the owners of the

slaves, and the other half to the District; and it was alleged, that

although the President might remit the latter half, he could not the

other.

That same Mr. Radcliff whom I have already had occasion to mention

volunteered his services--for a consideration--to get over this

difficulty. In consequence of a handsome fee which he received, he

undertook to obtain the consent of the owners of the slaves to our

discharge. But, having pocketed the money, he made, so far as I could

find, very little progress in the business, not having secured above

five or six signers. In answer to my repeated applications, he at length

proposed that my wife and youngest daughter should come on to

"Washington to do the business which he had undertaken, and for which he

had secured a handsome payment in advance. They came on accordingly,

and, by personal application, succeeded in obtaining, in all, the

signatures of twenty-one out of forty-one, the whole number. The

reception which they met with from different parties was very different,

showing that there is among slave-holders as much variety of character

as among other people. Some signed with alacrity, saying that, as no

slaves had been lost, I had been kept in jail too long already. Others

required much urging. Others positively refused. Some even added

insults. Young Francis Dodge, of Georgetown, would not sign, though my

life had depended upon it. One wanted me hung, and another tarred and

feathered. One pious church-member, lying on his death-bed, as he

supposed, was persuaded to sign; but he afterwards drew back, and

nothing could prevail on him to put his name to the paper. Die or live,

he wholly refused. But the most curious case occurred at Alexandria, to

which place my wife went to obtain the signature of a pious old lady,

who had been the claimant of a youngster found among the passengers of

the Pearl, and who had been sold, in consequence, for the southern

market. The old lady, it appeared, was still the owner of the boy's

mother, who acted as one of her domestics, and, if she was willing, the

old lady professed her readiness to sign. The black woman was

accordingly called in, and the nature of my wife's application stated to

her. But, with much positiveness and indignation, she refused to give

her consent, declaring that my wife could as well do without her husband

as she could do without her boy. So imbruted and stupefied by slavery

was this old woman, that she seemed to think the selling her boy away

from her a perfectly humane, Christian and proper act, while all her

indignation was turned against me, who had merely afforded the boy an

opportunity of securing his freedom! I dare say they had persuaded the

old woman that I had enticed the boy to run away; whereas, as I have

already stated, I had never seen him, nor any other of the passengers,

till I found them on board.

As only twenty-one signers could be obtained, the matter stood very much

as it did before the attempt was made. So long as President Fillmore

remained a candidate for reëlection there was little ground to expect

from him a favorable consideration of my case. I therefore felt

sincerely thankful to the Whig convention when they passed by Mr.

Fillmore, and gave the nomination to General Scott. Mr. Fillmore being

thus placed in a position which enabled him to listen to the dictates of

reason, justice and humanity, my hopes, and those of my friends, were

greatly raised. Mr. Sumner, the Free Democratic senator from

Massachusetts, had visited me in prison shortly after his arrival at

Washington, and had evinced from the beginning a sincere and active

sympathy for me. Some complaints were made against him in some

anti-slavery papers, because he did not present to the senate some

petitions in my behalf, which had been forwarded to his care. But Mr.

Sumner was of opinion, and I entirely agreed with him, that if the

object was to obtain my discharge from prison, that object was to be

accomplished, not by agitating the matter in the senate, but by private

appeals to the equity and the conscience of the President; nor did he

think, nor I either, that my interests ought to be sacrificed for the

opportunity to make an anti-slavery speech. There is reason in

everything; and I thought, and he thought too, that I had been made

enough of a martyr of already.

The case having been brought to the notice of the President, he, being

no longer a candidate for reëlection, could not fail to recognize the

claim of Sayres and myself to a discharge. We had already been kept in

jail upwards of four years, for an offence which the laws had intended

to punish by a trifling pecuniary fine Nor was this all. The earlier

part of our confinement had been exceedingly rigorous, and it had only

been by the untiring efforts of our friends, and at a great expense to

them, that we had been saved from falling victims to the conspiracy,

between the District Attorney and Judge Crawford, to send us to the

penitentiary. Although my able and indefatigable counsel, Mr. Mann,

whose arduous labors and efforts in my behalf I shall never forget, and

still less his friendly counsels and kind personal attentions, had

received nothing, except, I believe, the partial reimbursement of his

travelling expenses, and although there was much other service

gratuitously rendered in our cases, yet it had been necessary to pay

pretty roundly for the services of Mr. Carlisle; and, altogether, the

expenditures which had been incurred to shield us from the effects of

the conspiracy above mentioned far exceeded any amount of fine which

might have been reasonably imposed under the indictments upon which we

had been found guilty. Was not the enormous sum which Judge Crawford

sentenced us to pay a gross violation of the provision in the

constitution of the United States against excessive fines? Any fine

utterly beyond a man's ability to pay, and which operates to keep him a

prisoner for life, must be excessive, or else that word has no meaning.

But, though our case was a strong one, there still remained a serious

obstacle in the way, in the idea that, because half the fines was to go

to the owners of the slaves, the President could not remit that half.

Here was a point upon which Mr. Sumner was able to assist us much more

effectually than by making speeches in the senate. It was a point, too,

involved in a good deal of difficulty; for there were some English cases

which denied the power of pardon under such circumstances. Mr. Sumner

found, however, by a laborious examination of the American cases, that a

different view had been taken in this country; and he drew up and

submitted to the President an elaborate legal opinion, in which the

right of the executive to pardon us was very clearly made out.

This opinion the President referred to the Attorney General. A

considerable time elapsed before he found leisure to examine it; but at

last it obtained his sanction, also. Information at length reached

us--the matter having been pending for two months or more--that the

President had signed our pardon. It had yet, however, to pass through

the office of the Secretary for the Interior, and meanwhile we were not

by any means free from anxiety. The reader will perhaps recollect that

among the other things which the District Attorney had held over our

heads had been the threat to surrender us up to the authorities of

Virginia, on a requisition which it was alleged they had made for us.

The story of this requisition had been repeated from time to time, and a

circumstance now occurred which, in seeming to threaten us with

something of the sort, served to revive all our apprehensions. Mr.

Stuart, the Secretary of the Interior, through whose office the pardon

was to pass, sent word to the marshal that such a pardon had been

signed, and, at the same time, requested him, if it came that day into

his hands, not to act upon it till the next. As this Stuart was a

Virginian, out apprehensions were naturally excited of some movement

from that quarter. The pardon arrived about five o'clock that afternoon;

and immediately upon receiving it the marshal told us that he had no

longer any hold upon us,--that we were free men, and at liberty to go

where we chose. As we were preparing to leave the jail, I observed that

a gentleman, a friend of the marshal, whom I had often seen there, and

who had always treated me with great courtesy, hardly returned my

good-day, and looked at me as black as a thunder-cloud. Afterwards, upon

inquiring of the jailer what the reason could be, I learned that this

gentleman, who was a good deal of a politician, was greatly alarmed and

disturbed lest the act of the President in having pardoned us should

result in the defeat of the Whig party--and, though willing enough that

we should be released, he did not like to have it done at the expense of

his party, and his own hopes of obtaining some good office. The Whigs

were defeated, sure enough; but whether because we were pardoned--though

the idea is sufficiently nattering to my vanity--is more than I shall

venture to decide. The black prisoners in the jail, having nothing to

hope or fear from the rise or fall of parties, yielded freely to their

friendly feelings, and greeted our departure with three cheers. We left

the jail as privately as possible, and proceeded in a carriage to the

house of a gentleman of the District, where we were entertained at

supper. Our imprisonment had lasted four years and four months, lacking

seven days. We did not feel safe, however, with that Virginia

requisition hanging over our heads, so long as we remained in the

District, or anywhere on slave-holding ground; and, by the liberality of

our friends, a hack was procured for us, to carry us, that same night,

to Baltimore, there, the next morning, to take the cars for

Philadelphia. The night proved one of the darkest and stormiest which it

had ever been my fate to encounter,--and I have seen some bad weather in

my time. The rain fell in torrents, and the road was only now and then

visible by the flashes of the lightning. But our trusty driver

persevered, and, in spite of all obstacles, brought us to Baltimore by

the early dawn. Sayres proceeded by the direct route to Philadelphia.

Having still some apprehensions of pursuit and a requisition, I took the

route by Harrisburg. Great was the satisfaction which I felt as the cars

crossed the line from Maryland into Pennsylvania. It was like escaping

out of Algiers into a free and Christian country.

I shall leave it to the reader to imagine the meeting between myself and

my family. They had received notice of my coming, and were all waiting

to receive me. If a man wishes to realize the agony which our American

slave-trade inflicts in the separation of families, let him personally

feel that separation, as I did; let him pass four years in the

Washington jail.

When committed to the prison, I was by no means well. I had been a good

deal out of health, as appeared from the evidence on the trial, for two

or three years before. Close confinement, or, indeed, confinement of any

sort, does not agree with persons of my temperament; and I came out of

the prison a good deal older, and much more of an invalid, than when I

entered it.

The reader, perhaps, will inquire what good was gained by all these

sufferings of myself and my family--what satisfaction I can have, as it

did not succeed, in looking back to an enterprise attended with so much

risk, and which involved me in so long and tedious an imprisonment?

The satisfaction that I have is this: What I did, and what I attempted

to do, was my protest,--a protest which resounded from one end of the

Union to the other, and which, I hope, by the dissemination of this, my

narrative, to renew and repeat it,--it was my protest against the

infamous and atrocious doctrine that there can be any such thing as

property in man! We can only do according to our power, and the

capacity, gifts and talents, that we have. Others, more fortunate than

I, may record their protest against this wicked doctrine more safely and

comfortably for themselves than I did. They may embody it in burning

words and eloquent speeches; they may write it out in books; they may

preach it in sermons. I could not do that. I have as many thoughts as

another, but, for want of education, I lack the power to express them in

speech or writing. I have not been able to put even this short

narrative on paper without obtaining the assistance of a friend. I could

not talk, I could not write; but I could act. The humblest, the most

uneducated man can do that. I did act; and, by my actions, I protested

that I did not believe that there was, or could be, any such thing as a

right of property in human beings.

Nobody in this country will admit, for a moment, that there can be any

such thing as property in a white man. The institution of slavery could

not last for a day, if the slaves were all white. But I do not see that

because their complexions are different they are any the less men on

that account. The doctrine I hold to, and which I desired to preach in a

practical way, is the doctrine of Jefferson and Madison, that there

cannot be property in man,--no, not even in black men. And the rage

exerted against me on the part of the slave-holders grew entirely out of

my preaching that doctrine. Actions, as everybody knows, speak louder

than words. By virtue of my actions proclaiming my opinion on that

subject, I became at once, powerless as I otherwise was, elevated, in

the minds of the slave-holders, to the same high level with Mr. Giddings

and Mr. Hale, who they could not help believing must have been my secret

confederates.

If I had believed, as the slave-holders do, that men can be owned; if I

had really attempted, as they falsely and meanly charged me with doing,

to steal; had I actually sought to appropriate men as property to my own

use; had that been all, does anybody imagine that I should ever have

been pursued with such persevering enmity and personal virulence? Do

they get up a debate in Congress, and a riot in the city of Washington,

every time a theft is committed or attempted in the District? It was

purely because I was not a thief; because, in helping men, women and

children, claimed as chattels, to escape, I bore my testimony against

robbing human beings of their liberty; this was the very thing that

excited the slave-holders against me, just as a strong anti-slavery

speech excites them against Mr. Hale, or Mr. Giddings, or Mr. Mann, or

Mr. Stunner. Those gentlemen have words at command; they can speak, and

can do good service by doing so. As for me, it was impossible that I

should ever be able to make myself heard in Congress, or by the nation

at large, except in the way of action. The opportunity occurring, I did

not hesitate to improve it; nor have I ever yet seen occasion to regret

having done so.

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 7 / 7 段