The Underground Railroad
himself boxed up by a near relative and forwarded by the Erricson line
of steamers. He gave the slip to Robert H. Carr, his owner (a grocer and
commission merchant), after this wise, and for the following reasons:
For some time previous his master had been selling off his slaves every
now and then, the same as other groceries, and this admonished William
that he was liable to be in the market any day; consequently, he
preferred the box to the auction-block.
He did not complain of having been treated very badly by Carr, but felt
that no man was safe while owned by another. In fact, he "hated the very
name of slaveholder." The limit of the box not admitting of
straightening himself out he was taken with the cramp on the road,
suffered indescribable misery, and had his faith taxed to the
utmost,--indeed was brought to the very verge of "screaming aloud" ere
relief came. However, he controlled himself, though only for a short
season, for before a great while an excessive faintness came over him.
Here nature became quite exhausted. He thought he must "die;" but his
time had not yet come. After a severe struggle he revived, but only to
encounter a third ordeal no less painful than the one through which he
had just passed. Next a very "cold chill" came over him, which seemed
almost to freeze the very blood in his veins and gave him intense agony,
from which he only found relief on awaking, having actually fallen
asleep in that condition. Finally, however, he arrived at Philadelphia,
on a steamer, Sabbath morning. A devoted friend of his, expecting him,
engaged a carriage and repaired to the wharf for the box. The bill of
lading and the receipt he had with him, and likewise knew where the box
was located on the boat. Although he well knew freight was not usually
delivered on Sunday, yet his deep solicitude for the safety of his
friend determined him to do all that lay in his power to rescue him from
his perilous situation. Handing his bill of lading to the proper officer
of the boat, he asked if he could get the freight that it called for.
The officer looked at the bill and said, "No, we do not deliver freight
on Sunday;" but, noticing the anxiety of the man, he asked him if he
would know it if he were to see it. Slowly--fearing that too much
interest manifested might excite suspicion--he replied: "I think I
should." Deliberately looking around amongst all the "freight," he
discovered the box, and said, "I think that is it there." Said officer
stepped to it, looked at the directions on it, then at the bill of
lading, and said, "That is right, take it along." Here the interest in
these two bosoms was thrilling in the highest degree. But the size of
the box was too large for the carriage, and the driver refused to take
it. Nearly an hour and a half was spent in looking for a furniture car.
Finally one was procured, and again the box was laid hold of by the
occupant's particular friend, when, to his dread alarm, the poor fellow
within gave a sudden cough. At this startling circumstance he dropped
the box; equally as quick, although dreadfully frightened, and, as if
helped by some invisible agency, he commenced singing, "Hush, my babe,
lie still and slumber," with the most apparent indifference, at the same
time slowly making his way from the box. Soon his fears subsided, and it
was presumed that no one was any the wiser on account of the accident,
or coughing. Thus, after summoning courage, he laid hold of the box a
third time, and the Rubicon was passed. The car driver, totally ignorant
of the contents of the box, drove to the number to which he was directed
to take it--left it and went about his business. Now is a moment of
intense interest--now of inexpressible delight. The box is opened, the
straw removed, and the poor fellow is loosed; and is rejoicing, I will
venture to say, as mortal never did rejoice, who had not been in similar
peril. This particular friend was scarcely less overjoyed, however, and
their joy did not abate for several hours; nor was it confined to
themselves, for two invited members of the Vigilance Committee also
partook of a full share. This box man was named Wm. Jones. He was boxed
up in Baltimore by the friend who received him at the wharf, who did not
come in the boat with him, but came in the cars and met him at the
wharf.
The trial in the box lasted just seventeen hours before victory was
achieved. Jones was well cared for by the Vigilance Committee and sent
on his way rejoicing, feeling that Resolution, Underground Rail Road,
and Liberty were invaluable.
On his way to Canada, he stopped at Albany, and the subjoined letter
gives his view of things from that stand-point--
MR. STILL:--I take this opportunity of writing a few lines to
you hoping that tha may find you in good health and femaly. i am
well at present and doing well at present i am now in a store
and getting sixteen dollars a month at the present. i feel very
much o blige to you and your family for your kindnes to me while
i was with you i have got a long without any trub le a tal. i am
now in albany City. give my lov to mrs and mr miller and tel
them i am very much a blige to them for there kind ns. give my
lov to my Brother nore Jones tel him i should like to here from
him very much and he must write. tel him to give my love to all
of my perticnlar frends and tel them i should like to see them
very much. tel him that he must come to see me for i want to see
him for sum thing very perticler. please ansure this letter as
soon as posabul and excuse me for not writting sooner as i don't
write myself. no more at the present.
WILLIAM JONES.
derect to one hundred 125 lydus. stt
His good friend returned to Baltimore the same day the box man started
for the North, and immediately dispatched through the post the following
brief letter, worded in Underground Rail Road parables:
BALTIMO APRIL 16, 1859.
W. STILL:--Dear brother i have taken the opportunity of writing
you these few lines to inform you that i am well an hoping these
few lines may find you enjoying the same good blessing please to
write me word at what time was it when isreal went to Jerico i
am very anxious to hear for thare is a mighty host will pass
over and you and i my brother will sing hally luja i shall
notify you when the great catastrophe shal take place No more at
the present but remain your brother
N.L.J.
* * * * *
WESLEY HARRIS,[A] ALIAS ROBERT JACKSON, AND THE MATTERSON BROTHERS.
[Footnote A: Shot by slave-hunters.]
In setting out for freedom, Wesley was the leader of this party. After
two nights of fatiguing travel at a distance of about sixty miles from
home, the young aspirants for liberty were betrayed, and in an attempt
made to capture them a most bloody conflict ensued. Both fugitives and
pursuers were the recipients of severe wounds from gun shots, and other
weapons used in the contest.
Wesley bravely used his fire arms until almost fatally wounded by one of
the pursuers, who with a heavily loaded gun discharged the contents with
deadly aim in his left arm, which raked the flesh from the bone for a
space of about six inches in length. One of Wesley's companions also
fought heroically and only yielded when badly wounded and quite
overpowered. The two younger (brothers of C. Matterson) it seemed made
no resistance.
In order to recall the adventures of this struggle, and the success of
Wesley Harris, it is only necessary to copy the report as then penned
from the lips of this young hero, while on the Underground Rail Road,
even then in a very critical state. Most fearful indeed was his
condition when he was brought to the Vigilance Committee in this City.
UNDERGROUND RAIL ROAD RECORD.
_November 2d_, 1853.--Arrived: Robert Jackson (shot man), _alias_ Wesley
Harris; age twenty-two years; dark color; medium height, and of slender
stature.
Robert was born in Martinsburg, Va., and was owned by Philip Pendleton.
From a boy he had always been hired out. At the first of this year he
commenced services with Mrs. Carroll, proprietress of the United States
Hotel at Harper's Ferry. Of Mrs. Carroll he speaks in very grateful
terms, saying that she was kind to him and all the servants, and
promised them their freedom at her death. She excused herself for not
giving them their freedom on the ground that her husband died insolvent,
leaving her the responsibility of settling his debts.
But while Mrs. Carroll was very kind to her servants, her manager was
equally as cruel. About a month before Wesley left, the overseer, for
some trifling cause, attempted to flog him, but was resisted, and
himself flogged. This resistance of the slave was regarded by the
overseer as an unpardonable offence; consequently he communicated the
intelligence to his owner, which had the desired effect on his mind as
appeared from his answer to the overseer, which was nothing less than
instructions that if he should again attempt to correct Wesley and he
should repel the wholesome treatment, the overseer was to put him in
prison and sell him. Whether he offended again or not, the following
Christmas he was to be sold without fail.
Wesley's mistress was kind enough to apprise him of the intention of his
owner and the overseer, and told him that if he could help himself he
had better do so. So from that time Wesley began to contemplate how he
should escape the doom which had been planned for him.
"A friend," says he, "by the name of C. Matterson, told me that he was
going off. Then I told him of my master's writing to Mrs. Carroll
concerning selling, etc., and that I was going off too. We then
concluded to go together. There were two others--brothers of
Matterson--who were told of our plan to escape, and readily joined with
us in the undertaking. So one Saturday night, at twelve o'clock, we set
out for the North. After traveling upwards of two days and over sixty
miles, we found ourselves unexpectedly in Terrytown, Md. There we were
informed by a friendly colored man of the danger we were in and of the
bad character of the place towards colored people, especially those who
were escaping to freedom; and he advised us to hide as quickly as we
could. We at once went to the woods and hid. Soon after we had secreted
ourselves a man came near by and commenced splitting wood, or rails,
which alarmed us. We then moved to another hiding-place in a thicket
near a farmer's barn, where we were soon startled again by a dog
approaching and barking at us. The attention of the owner of the dog was
drawn to his barking and to where we were. The owner of the dog was a
farmer. He asked us where we were going. We replied to Gettysburg--to
visit some relatives, etc. He told us that we were running off. He then
offered friendly advice, talked like a Quaker, and urged us to go with
him to his barn for protection. After much persuasion, we consented to
go with him.
"Soon after putting us in his barn, himself and daughter prepared us a
nice breakfast, which cheered our spirits, as we were hungry. For this
kindness we paid him one dollar. He next told us to hide on the mow till
eve, when he would safely direct us on our road to Gettysburg. All, very
much fatigued from traveling, fell asleep, excepting myself; I could not
sleep; I felt as if all was not right.
"About noon men were heard talking around the barn. I woke my companions
up and told them that that man had betrayed us. At first they did not
believe me. In a moment afterwards the barn door was opened, and in came
the men, eight in number. One of the men asked the owner of the barn if
he had any long straw. 'Yes,' was the answer. So up on the mow came