The Underground Railroad
matter of freedom had been in their minds for a long time, they had
frequently counted the cost, and had been laying by trifling sums of
money which had fallen perchance into their hands. Among them all they
had about thirty dollars. As they could not go by water without a boat,
one of their number purchased an old batteau for the small sum of six
dollars. The Delaware Bay lay between them and the Jersey shore, which
they desired to reach. They did not calculate, however, that before
leaving the Delaware shore they would have to contend with the enemy.
That in crossing, they would lose sight of the land they well
understood. They managed to find out the direction of the shore, and
about the length of time that it might take them to reach it. Undaunted
by the perils before them the party repaired to the bay, and at ten
o'clock, P.M. embarked direct for the other shore.
Near Kate's Hammock, on the Delaware shore, they were attacked by five
white men in a small boat. One of them seized the chain of the
fugitives' boat, and peremptorily claimed it. "This is not your boat, we
bought this boat and paid for it," spake one of the brave fugitives. "I
am an officer, and must have it," said the white man, holding on to the
chain. Being armed, the white men threatened to shoot. Manfully did the
black men stand up for their rights, and declare that they did not mean
to give up their boat alive. The parties speedily came to blows. One of
the white men dealt a heavy blow with his oar upon the head of one of
the black men, which knocked him down, and broke the oar at the same
time. The blow was immediately returned by Thomas Sipple, and one of the
white men was laid flat on the bottom of the boat. The white men were
instantly seized with a panic, and retreated; after getting some yards
off they snapped their guns at the fugitives several times, and one load
of small shot was fired into them. John received two shot in the
forehead, but was not dangerously hurt. George received some in the
arms, Hale Burton got one about his temple, and Thomas got a few in one
of his arms; but the shot being light, none of the fugitives were
seriously damaged. Some of the shot will remain in them as long as life
lasts. The conflict lasted for several minutes, but the victorious
bondmen were only made all the more courageous by seeing the foe
retreat. They rowed with a greater will than ever, and landed on a small
island. Where they were, or what to do they could not tell. One whole
night they passed in gloom on this sad spot. Their hearts were greatly
cast down; the next morning they set out on foot to see what they could
see. The young women were very sick, and the men were tried to the last
extremity; however, after walking about one mile, they came across the
captain of an oyster boat. They perceived that he spoke in a friendly
way, and they at once asked directions with regard to Philadelphia. He
gave them the desired information, and even offered to bring them to the
city if they would pay him for his services. They had about twenty-five
dollars in all. This they willingly gave him, and he brought them
according to agreement. When they found the captain they were not far
from Cape May light-house.
Taking into account the fact that it was night when they started, that
their little boat was weak, combined with their lack of knowledge in
relation to the imminent danger surrounding them, any intelligent man
would have been justified in predicting for them a watery grave, long
before the bay was half crossed. But they crossed safely. They greatly
needed food, clothing, rest, and money, which they freely received, and
were afterwards forwarded to John W. Jones, Underground Rail Road agent,
at Elmira. The subjoined letter giving an account of their arrival was
duly received:
ELMIRA, June 6th, 1860.
FRIEND WM. STILL:--All six came safe to this place. The two men
came last night, about twelve o'clock; the man and woman stopped
at the depot, and went east on the next train, about eighteen
miles, and did not get back till to-night, so that the two men
went this morning, and the four went this evening.
O, old master don't cry for me,
For I am going to Canada where colored men are free.
P.S. What is the news in the city? Will you tell me how many you
have sent over to Canada? I would like to know. They all send
their love to you. I have nothing new to tell you. We are all in
good health. I see there is a law passed in Maryland not to set
any slaves free. They had better get the consent of the
Underground Rail Road before they passed such a thing. Good
night from your friend,
JOHN W. JONES.
* * * * *
ARRIVAL FROM DORCHESTER CO., 1860.
HARRIET TUBMAN'S LAST "TRIP" TO MARYLAND.
STEPHEN ENNETS and wife, MARIA, with three children, whose names were as
follows: HARRIET, aged six years; AMANDA, four years, and a babe (in the
arms of its mother), three months old.
The following letter from Thomas Garrett throws light upon this arrival:
WILMINGTON, 12th mo., 1st, 1860.
RESPECTED FRIEND:--WILLIAM STILL:--I write to let thee know that
Harriet Tubman is again in these parts. She arrived last evening
from one of her trips of mercy to God's poor, bringing two men
with her as far as New Castle. I agreed to pay a man last
evening, to pilot them on their way to Chester county; the wife
of one of the men, with two or three children, was left some
thirty miles below, and I gave Harriet ten dollars, to hire a
man with carriage, to take them to Chester county. She said a
man had offered for that sum, to bring them on. I shall be very
uneasy about them, till I hear they are safe. There is now much
more risk on the road, till they arrive here, than there has
been for several months past, as we find that some poor,
worthless wretches are constantly on the look out on two roads,
that they cannot well avoid more especially with carriage, yet,
as it is Harriet who seems to have had a special angel to guard
her on her journey of mercy, I have hope.
Thy Friend,
THOMAS GARRETT.
N.B. We hope all will be in Chester county to-morrow.
These slaves from Maryland, were the last that Harriet Tubman piloted
out of the prison-house of bondage, and these "came through great
tribulation."
Stephen, the husband, had been a slave of John Kaiger, who would not
allow him to live with his wife (if there was such a thing as a slave's
owning a wife.) She lived eight miles distant, hired her time,
maintained herself, and took care of her children (until they became of
service to their owner), and paid ten dollars a year for her hire. She
was owned by Algier Pearcy. Both mother and father desired to deliver
their children from his grasp. They had too much intelligence to bear
the heavy burdens thus imposed without feeling the pressure a grievous
one.
Harriet Tubman being well acquainted in their neighborhood, and knowing
of their situation, and having confidence that they would prove true, as
passengers on the Underground Rail Road, engaged to pilot them within
reach of Wilmington, at least to Thomas Garrett's. Thus the father and
mother, with their children and a young man named John, found aid and
comfort on their way, with Harriet for their "Moses." A poor woman
escaping from Baltimore in a delicate state, happened to meet Harriet's
party at the station, and was forwarded on with them. They were cheered
with clothing, food, and material aid, and sped on to Canada. Notes
taken at that time were very brief; it was evidently deemed prudent in
those days, not to keep as full reports as had been the wont of the
secretary, prior to 1859. The capture of John Brown's papers and
letters, with names and plans in full, admonished us that such papers
and correspondence as had been preserved concerning the Underground Rail
Road, might perchance be captured by a pro-slavery mob. For a year or
more after the Harper's Ferry battle, as many will remember, the mob
spirit of the times was very violent in all the principal northern
cities, as well as southern ("to save the Union.") Even in Boston,
Abolition meetings were fiercely assailed by the mob. During this
period, the writer omitted some of the most important particulars in the
escapes and narratives of fugitives. Books and papers were sent away for
a long time, and during this time the records were kept simply on loose
slips of paper.
* * * * *
ARRIVAL FROM MARYLAND, 1860.
JERRY MILLS, AND WIFE, DIANA, SON, CORNELIUS, AND TWO DAUGHTERS,
MARGARET, AND SUSAN.
The father of this family was sixty-five years of age, and his working
days were apparently well nigh completed. The mother was fifty-seven
years of age; son twenty-seven; daughters seventeen and fifteen years of
age.
The old man was smart for his years, but bore evidence that much hard
labor had been wrung out of him by Slavery. Diana said that she had been
the mother of twelve children; five had escaped to Canada, three were in
their graves, and three accompanied her; one was left in Maryland. They
had seen hard times, according to the testimony of the old man and his
companion, especially under David Snively, who, however, had been
"removed by the Lord" a number of years prior to their escape; but the
change proved no advantage to them, as they found Slavery no better
under their mistress, the widow, than under their master. Mistress
Snively was said to be close and stingy, and always unfriendly to the
slave. "She never thought you were doing enough." For her hardness of
heart they were sure she would repent some time, but not while she could
hold slaves. The belief was pretty generally entertained with the slaves
that the slaveholder would have to answer for his evil doings in another
world.
* * * * *
TWELVE MONTHS IN THE WOODS, 1860.
HENRY COTTON.
As a slave, subjected to the whims and passions of his master, Henry
made up his mind that he could not stand it longer. The man who mastered
it over him was called Nathaniel Dixon, and lived in Somerset Co., near
Newtown. This Dixon was not content with his right to flog and abuse
Henry as he saw fit, but he threatened to sell him, as he would sell a
hog.
At this time Henry was about twenty-four years of age, but a man of more
substantial parts physically was rarely to be seen. Courage was one of
his prominent traits. This threat only served to arouse him completely.
He had no friends save such as were in the same condition with himself,
nevertheless he determined not to be sold. How he should escape this
fate did not at first present itself. Every thing looked very gloomy;
Slavery he considered as death to him; and since his master had
threatened him, he looked upon him as his greatest enemy, and rather
than continue a slave he preferred living in the swamps with wild
animals. Just one year prior to the time that he made his way North,
determined not to be a slave any longer, he fled to a swamp and made his
way to the most secluded spot that he could find,--to places that were
almost impenetrable so dense were the trees and undergrowth. This was
all the better for Henry, he wanted to get safety; he did not wish
company. He made known his plans to a dear brother, who engaged to
furnish him occasionally with food. Henry passed twelve months in this
way, beholding no human soul save his brother. His brother faithfully
took him food from time to time. The winter weather of 1859 was very
hard, but it was not so hard to bear as his master Nathaniel Dixon. The